Those Who Mourn

by Allison Brown

I am 43 this year, and looking back, I can honestly say that I have carried much grief throughout my life. It was always apparent, but it usually showed up in either my mental health or my physical health.

We are never really taught how to grieve or that grief is a natural reaction, but most of us, if not all of us, have experienced it. I suspect a lot of people, like myself, have buried their grief down deep, not confronting it or allowing themselves to go through the natural emotions.

Grief is a personal journey that can often feel lonely when it appears the rest of the world has moved on. Watching life continue without pausing for the sudden loss that we have just experienced can be quite confronting. I remember at specific points in my life wanting to scream, “Stop!” – wanting everything to pause while I took in and tried to process the pain I was going through.

Throughout my life, grief likes to occasionally pop in to remind me just how fragile life is, and that I am not in control. This realisation, I believe, is a shared experience among those who have grieved.

I remember at specific points in my life wanting to scream, “Stop!” – wanting everything to pause while I took in and tried to process the pain I was going through.

The first time that reality hit me was in my teens. I had become chronically ill just before my 13th birthday. I had to quickly learn to let go of any plans as day-to-day living was filled with much struggle and uncertainty. Over my teen years, a sense of grief and helplessness took over that amplified in my 20s. I didn’t recognise the grief I was carrying. I did, though, recognise a feeling of significant loss. I wasn’t the person I used to be and could not be who I hoped to be.

When I was 16, my uncle, who was also my godfather, was killed in a bicycle accident. I remember pushing down the overwhelming feelings of grief that threatened to surface. I watched the adults around me all react differently. Some openly cried, others took control, and some were quiet.

In my early 20s, my husband and I were married, and we started our family immediately. It was when our firstborn was 6 months old that we discovered that I was pregnant again, completely unaware that the joy we felt was going to be short-lived. Nor did we have any reason to believe that this would be the first of many miscarriages between full-term pregnancies. By my third miscarriage, I avoided the grief by turning my emotions off, essentially numbing myself. But when I experienced my fourth miscarriage, the grief came tumbling out and hit me like a ton of bricks. It was profound, and I struggled with the lack of acknowledgement that we had lost a life and the general stigma of pregnancy loss in society.

Over the years, I felt a sense of grief and sadness for my children, who have various diagnoses. I grieved over the difficulties that they would face at such a young age and the struggles that they deal with every day. I have grieved not being able to be the mum I dreamt of being for my children because of my chronic health problems. I have grieved over how the severity of my mental health in the past has led to the loss of memory or how my health struggles, in general, have taken me away from my husband and children with multiple hospital admissions.

Currently, grief is on my radar and has been bubbling to the surface as I grieve my fifth miscarriage and the loss of our twins last July. At the same time, I am working hard in trauma therapy slowly, peeling back the layers upon layers of grief, recognising and acknowledging that it is there, and pinpointing the root cause of it and how it shows up in my body.

I recognise that some of the situations I grieved the most were those in which I felt I had completely lost control. In those situations, I tried to control God by bargaining or praying particular prayers in the hopes He would take notice. Other times, like when I lost my twins, I screamed and cried out to Him with anger and hurt. When it comes to death through a miscarriage, we are harshly reminded that, ultimately, God is the one who is in control of the situation.

The breakthrough I made in my grieving was when, through gentle guidance from the Lord, He showed me what was a healthy and emotional response. The Lord showed me how to acknowledge my emotions and then let them go, surrendering the present moment to Him. This revelation of faith has been a significant turning point in my healing journey.

In the past, my emotions would take over, and I would struggle to see anything beyond what was causing me so much pain. Lately, however, the Lord has allowed me to experience a healthy, emotional response, let go of whatever was causing the pain, and focus on the present moment and the people with me. This experience has helped me through difficult moments of grief. Rather than clinging to my pain like a life raft, I let go and allowed the Lord to do what He wills, trusting in His plan for my healing and salvation.

The Lord has used my grief as a catalyst for healing and growth, demonstrating the glory of His love for me. He has taught me that even though I may feel pain and loss, I can surrender it all through His grace and remain present in the moment.

My tears continue to flow, and my heart still aches with grief. However, this sorrow is not consuming me. The Lord has used my grief as a catalyst for healing and growth, demonstrating the glory of His love for me. He has taught me that even though I may feel pain and loss, I can surrender it all through His grace and remain present in the moment.

As I continue to navigate these waters of grief, I find strength in knowing that I am loved. I find comfort in knowing the Lord has used this grief for my personal growth and continued healing to draw me closer to Him. During this grieving period, I have discovered a newfound peace and a new sense of freedom. My emotions no longer control me. This freedom has me standing in confidence, knowing I am loved by many. I am discovering peace in remaining in the present moment and detaching from any outcomes, trusting and allowing the Lord to take over. Jesus knows what I need at that moment and will surely provide it. I am loved beyond measure, and I stand confidently in His truth.

Photo by Philipp Torres on Unsplash

As I reflect on all of this and how far the Lord has brought me, I acknowledge that I am not the same person I was 6 months ago. Surrendering this all to the Lord and letting go has lifted huge burdens off my shoulders. The surrendering has allowed the Lord to move and work more freely. Instead of clinging to my ideals and bargaining with Him to change what is, I am choosing to take a step towards Him, towards healing, towards the path of salvation. When I make this choice, grief is no longer a huge boulder in my life but a stepping stone in my journey towards heaven.

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