Anger - The Loneliest Side of Grief

Anger towards everything. Anger towards everyone. Anger towards any inanimate object in your way or that won't work. Anger towards God. Anger towards self help grief books. Anger towards the one you lost. Anger towards yourself. Anger at the loneliness you feel.

One of the many phases of grief is anger. But not just any anger - more like rage. In my opinion, this is and has been the hardest phase or part of grief. There are many theories behind it, such as when the death of your loved one occurred you had no control, but by being angry you feel in control. Maybe? I think the anger stems from the frustration of missing someone. For me it feels that way at least. I get so frustrated to think about the whole situation and therefore I become angry out of sheer frustration. I am learning to work out my anger in many various ways. I work out by either doing a sport or just walking on a treadmill until I cannot go a minute longer. And sometimes by just good old fashion crying or writing in my journal until I get a hand cramp. Or screaming into my pillow until I have a sore throat. I also think anger hurts so much and is so frustrating because it is such a lonely emotion when you don't know exactly who or what to even be angry at.

The most important thing I have learned is that you cannot internalize it. It will eat away at your very core. If you ever want life to get back to good, then you have to work through the anger. You cannot ignore it - it will surface. And anger is a natural part of grief. And one that cannot be avoided.

The second most important thing I have learned is that it is okay to be angry at God. He can handle it. I look at anger towards God as a whole new level of love in fact. You have friends and family that sometimes you are angry with and you work that anger out with them and voila you become much more closer than before. Same instance with God. Anger is just part of most of our relationships. That anger towards Him will only bring you closer to Him if you work through it.

"God didn't promise days without pain, laughter without sorrow, sun without rain, but he did promise strength for the day, comfort for the tears and light for the way."

The Closer You Are to God

I truly believe that the closer you are to God, the smaller everything else seems.

God is everywhere, all the time. He is so massive that standing against anything and everything He overpowers them is size and stature.

As you grow closer to God, you realize that your fears, worries, obstacles and tragedies seem smaller because His presence, love, hope and grace overshadows those things.

If you cling to Him through the good and the bad of life - the good will be great and the bad will get better.

I often tell me people of a mental analogy I had when Addison died. In my head I would have this image of me drowning in this hurricane like sea of huge, crashing waves. An image of a raging sea of grief. But I also would see Jesus standing tall in that storm and holding me up out of the water. So I would see myself clinging to His arm. Now, I don't know why I kept seeing this in my mind, but I do know that it brought me more comfort than anything.

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.
Isaiah 41:10 (NIV)

These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.
John 16:33 (KJV)

Mistakes - Only One Doesn't Make Them

We all have said, "Wait, this must be some sort of mistake." I know I have and I know that this past year I have screamed it towards the sky at the top of my lungs. When you lose someone you truly love, the first two things you think are why and this must be a mistake. After months of soul searching and pondering it hit me one day like a ton of bricks - Addison's death was no mistake because God does not make mistakes.

When I realized this, I did feel more comforted, although I still asked why and sometimes still do. But when I came to the affirmative conclusion that God does not make mistakes I felt a sense of relief and it helped lift some of the resentment that I had been holding against God. The fact that He doesn't make mistakes sometimes can seem to be a hard pill to swallow, when we have so much disaster, worldly and personally, happening around us. But there are two things I know for certain, 1) we are not meant to understand everything in God's plans and 2) He does not make mistakes.

We are not in control of this world or this life and I am certain that He is and with that control He does not make mistakes. I found great words the other day written by William Cowper, "Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, but trust Him for His grace; behind a frowning providence, He hides a smiling face."

The Tide

Probably the best book that I have read during my grief process is a book called All Things Are Possible Through Prayer by Charles Allen. Chapter 8 is called "The Tide Will Come In". I have read this particular chapter many times since Addison's death and have found great comfort in it.

A month after Addison's death, my family decided to take our annual trip to Destin, Florida. We needed the get away as a family and the normalcy of it. Most of that week I spent sitting on the beach gazing at the ocean. The ocean and all its mass. My grief was so new at that time and I found comfort by looking at something so enormous and something so much larger than my grief. The idea that you get while gazing at it is that God is larger than that ocean. He made that ocean and He can command it. When you are staring at something so large it is almost overwhelming to think about. But in my experience it was comforting.

Months after our beach trip, I found the book referenced above. In reading Chapter 8 of it I found much comfort and still do. It parallels low and high tides with times in our lives. When the tide is low we, like a large boat, cannot move forward nor back with ease. The low tide blocks us from moving on, like a boat stuck on a sandbar.

My very lowest tide has been grief. Grief makes you feel stuck because the tide is so low there is nowhere you can go. But what Allen writes is "If the tide is low, there are times when all we can do is wait for the tide to come in." I found that statement brilliant. Grief is eased by time, it is a healer, albeit a slow one. But if you watch the ocean you see that the tide always comes in. At our lowest points in life, whether it is death, job loss, or any situation you have to remember the high tide will eventually come in and your boat will have enough water to move off of that sandbar. We have to learn to wait with patience. Wait for the high tide to come in. And as Allen sums up Chapter 8, "But in the waiting, we are certain the tide will rise, and because of that certainty we have faith and hope."

Wait for the tide to come in. God will bring it. Time and God will bring the tide and you will be able to move forward and sail your ship wherever He points it. Psalm 55:22 Cast your cares on the Lord.

And I would like to add to verse 22 and wait for the tide.

The Valley of the Shadow of Death

At some point in our lives it is inevitable that we will have to walk through the valley of the shadow of death. It is a long journey through a valley that can overwhelm anyone with various emotions. What is important and what I have learned on my journey is that you have to walk. Although you have an extreme urge to run through it as fast as you can, you have to walk. If you run through it you will find that you have to start from the beginning over and over again. Sort of like a hamster wheel. If you walk and allow the grief process to be slow and run its course you will hopefully make your peace with God and grief and come out of the valley a new person who has learned to live life again. It won't be the same life ever again as before the journey, but it will be one that can be good again.

There is one thing I tell myself everyday about my walk through the valley of the shadow of death. It is just a shadow, a partial and temporary darkness. And the best thing about shadows - they move.