
I am not one for window seats. As much as I love to travel, my Achilles heal has always been motion sickness. Let’s just say I always know the location of the nearest barf bag. Sitting near the window doesn’t usually help with that affliction.
But there I was, peering out the airplane window with such delight. I could not help but pause in wonder of the sapphire sky and the feathery clouds below us. My hubby squeezed my hand. You would have thought I was a kid on a ride at Disneyland.
Our destination was even better: the Big Island of Hawaii.
Shawn knows my heart for travel. He surprised me with a 5-day trip using airline miles to celebrate our first anniversary in Kona. This was a big deal for me. We had contemplated going to Hawaii for our honeymoon but it was the place I enjoyed my first honeymoon with my late husband Ericlee. A year before I wasn’t quite ready to lean into the joy and the pain of that place. I needed a new and different kind of adventure.
Now I felt eager to make new memories with Shawn. I was one year stronger. That blue sky outside the window beckoned me. The promise of ocean waves and time for rest with my love allured me.
Near the end of that flight, the tray table in front of me began to shake. Passengers grabbed for their plastic cups with jiggling ice cubes and devices sliding into their laps. The captain quickly came on over the speaker and warned us we were flying through clouds and there was a long spell of turbulence ahead. My heart sunk. My stomach dropped. I closed my eyes and tried to relax.
Those clouds that appear so beautiful when you are flying above them or looking up from the ground actually cause turbulence when you get too close. I have discovered this is the way it is with grief as well. Turbulence, you see, is normal on flights in the same way grief is an integral part of the flight of our lives.
Grief does not interrupt life. Grief is life.
At some point, in some way, we will experience loss. This month we have traversed many stories of grief through my friends who have contributed to this series on “Navigating Grief As Life Moves Forward.” I have learned from these stories that every journey is unique but also holds threads of familiarity to my own story of loss. Whether losing a spouse, a grandparent, a child or a mother, there is turbulence. Even in moving away from a place or a ministry we love, there is uncertainty. There is longing for something we can never quite recover here on earth.
I have survived three Aprils now – the hardest month of my year – brimming with his birthday, our wedding anniversary, and Track and Field season full of memories of coaching together through the years. April is also a month of anticipation. I remember the uncertainty we felt three years ago. I remember the stage four cancer diagnosis that came in May.
Grief creates layers of depth, compassion and grit in us. Grief forever colors the way we see the world. Grief knows the contrast of suffering and grace. Grief can also give us a special lens to see God’s glory in a more vibrant and nuanced way.
From a distance, I can see the beauty in the storm. I can trace God’s glory lighting the edges of the clouds of my life. And certainly, my plane can dip and dive through the clouds but I choose to soar higher.
I love the example of the eagle. This unique and powerful bird flies higher than most birds. The eagle uses a soaring method of flying. She spreads her long, rectangular wings for hours and only beats those wings occasionally, letting the thermals of hot air carry her to great heights. Eagles actually lean into storms and high winds to soar higher and farther.
If you are navigating grief today, I want you to know you are designed to soar. This does not mean avoiding turbulence or running from the pain of grief. Those are important parts of the journey. It does mean choosing to fly higher. It means focusing our eyes on Heaven and the Glory to come. It means renewing our hope daily in the One who strengthens us and gives us wings.
Isaiah 40:31. “…those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”
Don’t miss the other articles in this “Navigating Grief as Life Moves Forward” series. Feel free to SHARE with a friend who might need these words of encouragement.
The Garden – an introduction to the series
Grieving Together – an article on grieving with children
Choosing Joy – a guest post about a spouse choosing joy even on a long cancer journey
When a Grandparent Dies – a guest post about how one mom is navigating her own grief and grief with her kids
Facing Triggers and Trauma – an article about steering through grief when triggers and trauma color the journey
When You are the Caregiver – an article about navigating grief and feelings of guilt when you have a front-row seat to a loved one’s decline
When You Have to Say Goodbye to the Place Your Heart Calls Home – a guest post exploring the idea of “good grief” we experience when we are uprooted from a place or home we love
When You’ve Experienced Pregnancy Loss – a guest post sharing a first-hand experience with miscarriage and stillbirth.
Navigating Grief When Someone You Love Dies Suddenly – a guest post sharing about the sudden death of her mother.
I’m passionate about meeting people in their grief and sharing a message of hope and glory. Let’s connect through my weekly Glorygram!
“Grief creates layers of depth, compassion and grit in us. Grief forever colors the way we see the world. Grief knows the contrast of suffering and grace. Grief can also give us a special lens to see God’s glory in a more vibrant and nuanced way.”
I totally agree with this, Dorina. And I wonder… could the same thing be said of suffering in general? Walking with a loved one through chronic illness has me looking for redemption and I think I see it here. Other kinds of suffering create similar layers of depth, compassion, grit, and perspective – in how we see others, the world, and God. I’m encouraged to remember that.
Thank you for hosting this series.
Absolutely and this is what my Glory Chaser book explores… 😉
There is that anticipatory grief that comes in walking someone through chronic illness as well. There’s so much loss along the way. I’m grateful for your participation in the series and feedback here. Love you, Friend!
Sharing this with a friend who lost his wife a year ago–thank you, Dorina!