Why Won’t My Grief Go Away?

9 years ago today I closed the door to my lower level Haitian Hotel room, kicked off my sneakers and watched 30 years of my life flash before my eyes. That sounds dramatic, but it is true. As the earth fell out from under me in the 7.4 Earthquake of 2010, pictures of my girls, my husband, a sense of all that I held dear was so strong in my minds’ eye I could have nearly reached out and touched it. Except that I could barely keep my footing as the earth swayed and cracked and split and fell away.

Several days later we were evacuated out of the country to safety, to our homes and our loves. As the days turned into weeks and then months, shock turned to numbness, numbness to crushing grief, grief to regular activities, activities led to denial and denial to horribly ill-timed, suffocating moments of heartache.

But 10 years have passed, and this morning I took the time and allowed myself to soak in a hot bath and remember. Then I poured myself a steaming cup of coffee, settled in and read the account I wrote, just a week after I returned home from the earthquake.

I relived the anxiety of my near death experience, the fear of never seeing my people again, the frustration of being so helpless, the heartache of watching children die and their parents grieve, my failed attempts at bravery and courage, but this year I heard something new too, my 29-year-old voice.

Tears slip down my cheeks for her too. She was young and didn’t realize it, a fresh Mom of two baby girls, still feeling slightly immortal, desperate to make a difference, anxious for adventure. In a moment she faced her mortality, her own limitations, her fear, and then her grief.

I wish I could go to her now, scoop her up in my arms, push her head down on my shoulder and tell her “you don’t need to fight it all so hard. It’s ok to be afraid. God created you for this fullness of life, yes, even this is fullness of life.” Courage and bravery don’t come from denying fear and heartache; grief doesn’t go away. Let the snotty tears, the wailing cries, the confusion, and the anger have their places, they aren’t weaknesses, they are the birthing grounds for strength. If you let them.

10 years into the rearview mirror, I can see that grief doesn’t go away, but over time more life fills out around it. I also see the growth around it, as I was forced to bend, and change, alter and heal. Why won’t my grief go away? Because He intends to use even it, for my good. Will I trust Him with that?

Ephesians 3:16-19 New Living Translation (NLT)

¹⁶ I pray that from his glorious, unlimited resources he will empower you with inner strength through his Spirit. ¹⁷ Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God’s love and keep you strong. ¹⁸ And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is. ¹⁹ May you experience the love of Christ, though it is too great to understand fully. Then you will be made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God.