Learning to Grieve Intentionally

by Amber Goodloe, LPC

Sorrow took up permanent residence in my soul and enlarged it ~ Jerry Sittser

I first came across this quote from “A Grace Disguised” by Jerry Sittser a couple years ago while on my own journey of grief and simultaneously finding myself being surrounded by clients dealing with grief and looking for resources.  His story and insights were incredibly powerful and healing, and I actually did a painting of this quote because he followed it by saying, “once enlarged the soul is also capable of experiencing greater joy, strength, peace, and love,” which I experienced to be true. What I didn’t know at the time was that, about 6 months later, I would lose my mom unexpectedly and begin to hate that quote.  I thought (and truthfully sometimes still think) “I’ll keep my tiny soul if it means I get my mom back!!”

In life, we all experience grief – sometimes huge, earth-shattering grief that leaves us gasping for air, and other times smaller yet still painful moments of grief.  This can be from the loss of someone dear to us, a loss of a place we loved due to evacuation or a move, a child moving out, or even “just” the loss of our favorite restaurant or park in our city.  Our staff team is currently experiencing immense waves of grief as we are transitioning out of one location we love, and into the unknown of a new city.  We are grieving the loss of the turquoise sea, the snow-capped mountains, and the memories of all God has done in our offices (and so much more!). 

No matter what it is, grief hurts, and it is often more frequent and intensified when living cross-culturally.  Maybe the restaurant that closed was the only place that served food you liked, or the park was the only patch of green in your city, or the country you just left is where all your kids were born and learned to walk; in other contexts these would still hurt, but there is a uniqueness and amplifier to the pain when they happen overseas.  As expats we also experience a plethora of “hidden losses” such as loss of identity, career path, family connections, and stability. 

Whatever the situation may be, our grief needs care and attention – but often we struggle to know how to do this well.  Maybe you couldn’t attend the funeral because you couldn’t get tickets in time and you feel stuck and unable to find closure, or maybe you spent a week with family grieving together but now you’re back in your host country and feel isolated and alone in your grief, or you were evacuated from your home and had to leave most of your possessions behind.  Or maybe it seems insignificant in comparison to “real loss,” so you don’t allow yourself to name and process the pain and sadness. However, these little losses add up and can become more destructive if left unprocessed than one catastrophic loss; it reminds me of the phrase “death by a thousand paper cuts.”  Whatever the situation, our hearts and souls need time and space to heal as we “learn to live and mourn simultaneously” (Sittser).

We’ve all heard of the “5 stages of grief” (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance) and historically we wanted to believe that we smoothly and orderly moved through these steps and then were “done grieving.”  While these feelings are usually all present, anyone who’s been through loss knows there is nothing neat and orderly about the healing process.  It’s more like this “tangled ball of grief” in which it’s all intertwined and connected and we can’t address one without discovering something else and likely going in circles as we work through the knots. 

As humans, and sometimes more so as believers, we are tempted to avoid this messy process and try to bypass the grieving process and skip straight to acceptance, or even feel like this is what others expect or want us to do. We do this by denying or minimizing the pain or loss (it’s not that big of a deal, I’ll get over it), sometimes by over-spiritualizing the experience (well God’s in control so it’s ok, or believing that allowing ourselves to grieve means we don’t trust God), or maybe we resort to excessive drinking/spending/working to drown out our pain. None of this is helpful, and it all ends up increasing the effects of loss as they stay unprocessed.

And it makes sense that sometimes this is our reaction – facing the reality of what we’ve lost can sometimes be terrifying and overwhelming. We fear if we allow ourselves to feel any of the loss it will swallow us whole.  While it’s true that our souls have the ability to grow and expand through loss, Sittser also says, “a willingness to face the loss and to enter into the darkness is the first step we must take.  Like all first steps, it is probably the most difficult and takes the most time.” He expounds on this, saying that “catastrophic loss is like undergoing an amputation of our identity,” and C.S. Lewis similarly refers to loss as an amputation and the healing process as learning how to live without a limb (A Grief Observed).  Therefore, rightfully so, facing our grief can feel intimidating, maybe impossible, and so we find ways to avoid.

However, one of the most encouraging things I remember hearing about grief was in a workshop on “Good Mourning” (link included), in which the presenter talks about how we can learn to control when and how we grieve and we don’t have to simply be at the whim of these feelings whenever grief shows up. We can intentionally set aside times to grieve, and choose activities to help this process, so that slowly we can begin to heal.  She talks about choosing to look at pictures, bring up memories, and engage our senses to help us connect with our grief.  The goal is not to “get over” the pain, we will never stop missing what we lost, but rather to absorb the truth of what happened and find a way to create a life around it.  This can include journaling, praying, art, walking, and many other activities that create space for us to give our attention to our emotions.  We also need to be intentional about helping kids and teens learn how to do this, to normalize grief and create space for them to process their emotions.  So often the temptation can be to try to “make it all better” because it’s hard to see them (or anyone!) sad, but what they actually need is for us as parents, friends, and mentors to allow them to “feel their feels” and let it out, and be a safe, judgment free place for them to do that. In her book The Grief Tower, Lauren Wells talks about intentionally helping TCKs name and proactively process their grief so that their ‘grief tower’ doesn’t just tumble over unexpectedly, and it is full of very practical tools to help you do this.

As I was seeking ways to process the grief around my mom, I discovered that although all the recommendations said to journal your feelings, and normally I would love this, it was too painful.  Seeing the words in writing was too overwhelming, it made it all too real.  But what I also knew was that I had to find an outlet for my emotions, or they would begin to destroy me.  So I turned to art.  I would hide in my art room and just paint my emotions (which as much I love to paint this has never been my habit).  I began to find quotes that I really resonated with and would paint a picture to go with them.  It was a safe way to let my emotions out when words were too much.  I also started an album on my phone of quotes I found that put my feelings into words. 

(the above images are personal reflections, please do not use or replicate)

Now this might not be your go-to method.  Maybe you are a journaler; maybe you need to go for walks and cry; maybe you need to shred paper to process how angry you are (I found myself chopping ice on my dad’s ranch); whatever it is that you are feeling, there is goodness in finding a safe way to bring your attention to it, name what it’s coming from, and release it from your system. And again – this applies to any loss, no matter the size. This can be especially true with kids as we might see their losses as “small,” but if they are “big” to them then they are worth grieving well. 

As I write these suggestions, you’ll notice that I don’t focus only on prayer, worship music, or reading the Bible.  I’m in no way saying you shouldn’t do these things – if they bring comfort and peace to your soul then by all means, do it!  Remembering the truth of who God is in the midst of pain can be a lifeline for many, and hopefully in time, all.  However, it is important to note that struggling spiritually after a loss is completely normal (along with memory loss, brain fog, inability to focus, changes in appetite, and sleep disruptions), and in the early months you might not be ready to seek God’s comfort. It might feel like this means you’re a horrible Christian, and an even worse cross-cultural worker, if you aren’t “just at peace with God” in the midst of grief – but that is a lie! In C.S. Lewis’s A Grief Observe” he says, “Talk to me about the truth of religion and I’ll listen gladly.  Talk to me about the duty of religion and I’ll listen submissively.  But don’t come talking to me about the consolations of religion or I shall suspect that you don’t understand.” Sometimes we, or well-meaning friends, are trying to help us feel better and we minimize our emotions because we see them as a lack of faith, but the Bible clearly creates space for us to mourn and grieve and wail and lament.  The Psalms are full of verses like “my tears have been my food day and night” (42:3), “Be merciful to me, Lord, for I am in distress; my eyes grow weak with sorrow, my soul and body with grief” (31:9); “I am worn out from my groaning. All night long I flood my bed with weeping and drench my couch with tears” (6:6). Of course, these verses are always followed with reminders of God’s goodness, faithfulness, and love – but I so appreciate how much space is allowed for the lament process first.

So wherever you are in your grief journey, and whatever it is you’re feeling the loss of, may you find space and ways to grieve well and allow your soul to be enlarged so you can find greater strength and peace (and if that makes you want to scream at me, or others who say similar “encouragements,” that’s ok too). May God meet you where you are and say to you, “I can handle whatever you have to throw at me – I am big enough for all of it.” 

Grief is something we must process individually, and on grief’s timeline in many ways.  You may wish the pain would subside faster or be frustrated that a year or two later you’re still struggling with feelings of sadness or low capacity – this is normal. But, if you find yourself stuck and unable to keep processing, or don’t know how, or feel yourself spiraling down, please reach out to a friend or counselor. And when we are settled in our new location, we, I, would be honored to come alongside you to help you grieve and find a path to healing.

Resources: 

There are endless resources available for grief, but here are a few of my favorites to start with

Webinar on “Good Mourning” by Connie Befus

Books:

A Grace Disguised by Jerry Sittser

Everything Happens For A Reason (And Other Lied I’ve Loved) by Kate Bowler

A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis

It’s Ok That You’re Not Ok by Megan Devine (*Disclaimer: this not a Christian book and has some swear words, but is full of great practical resources for intense grief)

The Grief Tower: A Practical Guide to Processing Grief with Third Culture Kids by Lauren Wells

Websites: