Tag: dealing with grief

Downhill Uphill

“He went downhill fast.” That’s the kind of thing we say when someone gets terminally ill and doesn’t recover. It is a difficult thing to watch people go downhill. This is one of the reasons that I dread visiting nursing homes.

I was thinking about this phrase this morning as I was going down a steep hill on my bicycle. It really doesn’t take much effort at all to go downhill. Everyone can go fast downhill. You just keep it in the road, if that is the course that is set before you. But it takes real work to go uphill. And to go uphill fast demands an extraordinary amount of energy.

Do you ever get caught in this situation? You are riding shotgun and the driver answers the phone and the phone call plays through the vehicles sound system. You become an involuntary, nonspeaking party to the phone call. It is not that you are intruding by listening, but you would be intruding by talking. You go through something similar in real life watching people make decisions. I guess that is some how wrapped up in minding your own business. Anyway, It is hard for me to not pay attention to a conversation. By the way, do you ever quit listening to someone that is talking to you because you overhear a more interesting conversation off to the side? That is something that I struggle with. I won’t go into the finer details of what the conversation was about but this line stood out to me.

Things are going well but its all uphill.

I guess that means that they are putting in the effort. It sure sounded like it. And that is the point I am trying to make: making progress is really just a gentler way of saying that you are doing a lot of hard work and it is paying off. And you know, work is fun to watch. Especially if someone else is doing it.

I remember when we added an education wing to the church in Winchester. Cecil and I met every morning just down the hill from the church before we started our mowing rounds. I was not the early riser that I am today and Cecil always beat me to work. I’d pull in and start getting the truck and mowers in order before I almost had to drag him away from the construction site. He would be up there talking to the workers, pointing at things, telling them God knows what. Checking on that construction site really made him grin. Old men and little boys can watch bulldozers all day. I think we all like to watch work because it is inspiring.

I catch myself doing it now. Man they didn’t waste any time getting that house built! (Is this how you talk to yourself?) Progress is exciting. My community is patiently waiting for our Chick Fil A to be rebuilt. We are all emotionally invested in the progress of that building. We celebrate at each milestone. They got the sign on the wall!

When you are actually working on the construction site, or really any kind of project it can be difficult to appreciate your progress because you are constantly seeing it. Watching children grow up is a similar phenomenon. You hardly notice it when you see them every day, but the folks that just see them at Thanksgiving are shocked by their growth. If you are working on something that matters, it is good to remind yourself every once that your labor is not in vain.

Galatian 6:9 And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.

The Valley of the Shadow of Death

It is the waiting room to eternity and time doesn’t always behave properly because it must yield to a higher authority.

One of the most difficult and strangest places to be emotionally is while you are waiting for a loved one to pass on. The 23rd Psalm calls this place the valley of the shadow of death. It is not an easy place to walk through alone. You’ll need a shepherd. Perhaps you have been there. It is when the doctors do not give you any hope. And the hope that God offers doesn’t always make sense. Nothing really makes sense. On one hand you would never wish for someone to die, but on the other hand there is a realization that death is imminent and you don’t want to see someone suffering. It is the waiting room to eternity and time doesn’t always behave properly because it must yield to a higher authority. Day to day schedules no longer take precedent and you begin to wonder if the clock is accurate because you seem to float in time, suspended in the memories with your loved one. One minute you are bawling your eyes out and the next minute you are crying from laughter. You are not sure how you are supposed to feel. And that is ok.

I think you truly enter into this valley when you know that your loved one is no longer aware of your presence. It hurts.

People pop in and out of the waiting room like characters from another universe. They make you feel better. They bring food and memories. They mourn with you.

A good name is better than precious ointment; and the day of death than the day of one’s birth. It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to go to the house of feasting: for that is the end of all men; and the living will lay it to his heart. Sorrow is better than laughter: for by sadness of the countenance the heart is made better. The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning; but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth. Ecclesiastes 7:1-4

As a younger man I found this a difficult passage of scripture to reconcile with my limited understanding and narrow perception of death. And also life. After a little more hands on experience with loss I now find great comfort in the words of The Preacher in Ecclesiastes.

It is good to mourn. Everyone mourns differently. I tend to write.