For months after Joshua died, I could only feel the deepest sorrow I had ever felt. I tried to smile when others were happy or shared good news. I didn’t feel it on the inside. It was all fake, a facade, like the commercial where the people carry around the happy face on the popsicle stick.
I still remember the first time I laughed. Someone said something funny. I don’t remember what it was, I just remember laughing and then feeling the most intense guilt. I shouldn’t be happy. I shouldn’t laugh.
As time passed, I found myself beginning to smile again, genuinely this time. And then, slowly, it seemed okay to laugh a little. It was still hard, I still felt some guilt. Until one day, I realized that Joshua isn’t sad. I don’t really want to go into the theology of whether he is in Heaven, Paradise, or asleep waiting for Christ to return. My momma heart needs to believe that he is sitting at the feet of Jesus, in awe of the glory that awaits the rest of us when our time on this earth ends. What joy he must be experiencing!
The day that hit me is the day that I realized I want to be happy too. I may have a long life left on this earth, and I don’t want to spend it miserable and bitter. Joshua isn’t sad, why should I be? He isn’t mourning. He already knows what’s coming. He is experiencing an eternal reward for a life well-lived.
That’s when the internal struggle began. One of the challenges that grief brought was learning to deal with opposing emotions at the same time. I had never felt sadness and happiness together, simultaneously. It was like I was wrestling with myself.
Once I was able to acknowledge both emotions and could name them, I could separate them and allow both of them to exist at the same time without the inner conflict. Then, came the next challenge.
The “but.”
I caught myself saying that I felt happy but sad. Saying “but” after expressing the first emotion was like erasing that part of the sentence. It implied that I didn’t really mean what I had just said. And that wasn’t true, I could literally feel both emotions playing tug-of-war with my insides.
Let me give you an example. Our daughter just got married. People would often ask us how we were doing; how we were feeling. I couldn’t say that I was happy, but I was also sad. It felt wrong. Like I was erasing the happiness. I really did feel happy. Happy that she had found the one whom her soul loves. Happy that she was happy. Happy to hear the joy in her voice and see her smile reach all the way to her eyes again.
And I was sad. Sad that her biggest cheerleader, her best friend wouldn’t be here to celebrate with us. Sad that our new son-in-love wouldn’t get to know him. Sad for what the future was supposed to hold. I deeply felt both emotions.
Pictures could cause a similar reaction. I could look at a picture and remember a happy time that would immediately make me smile. Then, it would hit me that there would be no more memories made, and I would cry. Emotions are overwhelming.
For me, it’s important that I feel the joy with the sorrow. That sorrow is the price we pay for the deep love that we feel for someone. I never want to forget that sweet boy of ours! The joy is a reminder of the hope that we have of spending eternity together.
Grief is complicated. My prayer for you today is that you will find some joy in the midst of your sadness and not feel guilty!
With Eyes on the Cross 