When Peace Like a River

Much of my life these past few months has felt like I have been walking upstream in chest deep water. With spring coming, I had thought that the pain of the loss of my dad would have lessened by now. Instead, I find the sadness welling up again at unexpected times. I catch my breath as a sharp stab to my heart reminds me that my dad is gone.

There are supposed to be five stages of grief and I guess I am somewhere along that journey right now. I'm not angry or in denial. I just know that I still miss my dad. I've reached the point where I can actually talk about memories of him and not always want to cry. I have resorted to indulging on some of my hardest days (mainly on coffee, chocolate, and granola bars, but not usually all at once). I don't want to numb myself to the pain.  I lost my Dad-his memory should be grieved.

I try to remind myself that there are others on similar journeys, for the river of grief is rarely walked completely alone.

My children have suffered the loss of their birth parents and birth culture, at an age where they will not have the comfort of loving memories. Other's in my life have suffered the loss of children before they ever had a chance to meet them. Some are grieving the loss of a dream, a future that will never be their's or the diagnosis of an illness.

It's good to remember that struggle is happening in the lives of others, even in the midst of our own pain. As hard as it is to do, I believe if we reach out to others we could help each other as we work through it.

Sorrow is an experience that is touches all of us. It rarely makes sense. While never welcomed, it brings a certain complexity and tenderness to our lives if we allow it.  Instead of our lives having the simplicity of the song 'Chopsticks' it becomes more like a piece by Tchaikovsky.

Oswald Chambers once said, "If through a broken heart God can bring His purposes to pass in the world, then thank Him for breaking your heart." So as I walk through this period of brokenness, I pray that His purposes are brought to pass through this struggle knowing that God will carry me through.

This old hymn really says it all.

It is Well With My Soul by Horatio G. Spafford

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Refrain

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

Refrain

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

Refrain

For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
If Jordan above me shall roll,
No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.

Refrain

But, Lord, ‘tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
Oh trump of the angel! Oh voice of the Lord!
Blessèd hope, blessèd rest of my soul!

Refrain

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.

Refrain

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