Letting Go Of Your Grief - The One Year Book of Hope

Letting Go Of Your Grief

There is a time for everything, a season for every activity under heaven. A time to cry and a time to laugh. A time to grieve and a time to dance. –Ecclesiastes 3:1, 4

There is a tyranny in grief. We realize at some point that we have to figure out how to keep on living, how to incorporate the loss into our lives. We want to feel normal again, to feel joy again. But the energy and emotion of grief keep us feeling close to the one we love or connected to what we’ve lost. Letting go of our grief feels like letting go of the one we love, leaving him or her behind and moving on. The very idea of it is unbearable.

I suppose we have a choice. We can hold on to the pain, accepting the misery it brings if it means we won’t have to move forward with the emptiness. Or we can release it, process it, talk about it, cry over it, let it wash over us, and then let it wash away with our tears. We can make the painful choice to let it go—not all at once, but a little every day. We begin to find that we have the choice of whether or not we will let ourselves sink to that place of unbearable pain when the flashes of memories and reminders of loss pierce our hearts. And we can begin to make that hard choice. We can begin to let go of our grief so we can grab hold of life and those who are living. But I think the only way we can do that is by telling ourselves the truth—that if we choose to let go of the pain, or at least let it become manageable, it does not mean we love the one we’ve lost any less. And it doesn’t mean that person’s life was any less significant or meaningful, or that we will forget.

A couple of Sundays ago, a friend who had recently lost her husband stopped me after church to talk. “I cry at the office, cry all the way home, and then cry all evening,” she told me . . . while crying. And I cried with her.

“Wasn’t your husband worthy of a great sorrow?” I asked her. When you love something or someone, the process of letting go is a painful one that takes some time, and it need not be rushed. Nor should it be avoided altogether. We feel the pain, mourn the loss, shed our tears, and with time we can begin to let go of the grief that has had such a hold on us. Perhaps it’s not so much that we let go of our grief, but more that we give our grief permission to lessen its grip on us.

Jesus, I know you don’t want to rush me through my grief, but neither do you want me to be burdened and limited by it any longer than is needed for my healing. Will you meet me and walk with me as I begin to let go?

DIGGING DEEPER