Saturday, January 24, 2009

The shattering process

I am posting this duplicate post from our family blog as I realize we have different readers. But I thought this post fit her as well.

Over the past months and years, I have watch those close to me walk the path of grieving. I myself have also walked this road. Whatever the circumstance; the loss of a child or a family member, the ending of a marriage, financial hardship, the illness of a family member or any other thing that has rocked the stable foundation of life, grief is always part of that process.

It always interests me the things we find ourselves talking about with people. Over the past two weeks, I have had the same conversation with three women; it feels like there is a theme in life right now. The idea that dealing with grief is a journey and in order to get to the other side of it, you must come to grips with the shattered dreams that lay so obviously at our feet.

I have used this same example many times. From the moment a women find out she is going to have a child, she makes plans, she dreams, she envisions what her life will look like from the second the sunrises on the day of her due date. She pictures the first Christmas, the first birthday, graduation, family vacations and many other momentous occasions that will happen throughout life. The same thing happens when you become engaged, start a new job etc. Whatever the life altering event may be you plan and think about what it will look like.

Then as life will be, there are things that happen along the way that may sever that event or alter it slightly or even more severely. The loss of a child, a divorce, being fired from a job, not being able to conceive etc.; all those things are harsh blows to the way it should have been and leaving you in a place of real grieving. And although it is just ‘part of life’, it still is something we walk through. Yes, we can all say it is a character building experience, but truly when it all has been stripped away and if we were to be completely honest, it feels unfair, harsh and unjust.

As I have been thinking about my own journey and really pondering what process I have been walking through, I have realized that there were some really pivotal things that I had to walk through. The first; everyone grieves differently. Some do it quickly and logically, some take a lot of time and methodically work through every possible emotion. Some grieve publicly, some privately; some share with many and some with just a few. You may be a combination of some of these you may not grieve at all like this. Whatever the case, the way you grieve is right for you. There is no right or wrong way because grief is based on emotion.
Secondly, you need to come to place of acceptance to be able to move forward. In saying that, I in no way mean you forget about it or pretend it did not happen. You just come to place where you are no longer numb by the pure thought of it. That you can say “this happened and although I do not like it, I can accept it and choose to move forward from it”

Thirdly, and for me one of the most important in my journey, has been to deal with the shattered dreams. To take all those ‘the way it should have been’ thoughts and all the ideas about ‘if this would not have happened then...’ and be able to set them aside accepting the fact that they never will be as I may have thought or hoped. It sounds harsh in a way, but I can honestly say it has been really healing and freeing for me. I am no longer living in the past but rather, now I was giving myself the opportunity to build new dreams in my heart; new hopes, new things to believe for and live for. By accepting my reality, it doesn’t mean I no longer stand firm in my belief for a miracle. I am just giving myself a chance to live in the present and be thankful rather than in the past and be disappointed.
I read something really beautiful about a year ago, something that really changed me. It was the journey of a mom who had lost her child three days after she was born. She had known the child was ill and was told that she we not live or take a breath. The family believed for a miracle and they received three of the most precious days with their little girl before she joined Jesus in heaven.
I continued to follow her journey of grief after burying her daughter. This woman was well grounded in the Lord, she was well supported by family and friends but that did not make her personal grieve any less. At a counselling session, her counsellor told her to buy or find a piece of pottery that well represented her and to smash it. After smashing it, she was to then put the pieces back together.
The woman chose a colourful water vase and one day while she had some alone time, she took it outside and smashed it. She then took the pieces and glued them back together. A few hours later, and not without cut or gluey fingers, there before her stood the ‘new’ water vase. Although it resembled the same shape as before, there were lines and cracks that were visible to the eye, there were pieces missing however; there were also pieces that remained unscathed, they were not chipped or broken in the shattering process.

The women took her vase to her counsellor the next time and showed her masterpiece-of-sorts, still not really sure what the full meaning of it was. Although it felt great to put it back together, she did not fully understand why she was told to do this. The counsellor told her that the vase represented her journey. Before the loss of her daughter, her life was like the unbroken vase, colourful and well put together. Then she lost her daughter and life fell apart – thus the smashing of the vase. The gluing together of the pieces was the process of grieving. And the finished product, although it looked the same, was still different. There were pieces that were missing – like her daughter from her life. There were cracks and lines, which represented the journey to put it all together. There were pieces that remained stable – like her family relationships, her relationship with the Lord etc. It was not to say that her life way all back together and it was over, there was still a journey, but what a powerful thing to have to remind her. The vase sits on her dining room table with flowers in it as a daily reminder.
That story really impacted me. I realized that as I continue to put the pieces together, part of me remains constant, other parts look different and some parts are missing. All those pieces add up to make a whole new person; one that ‘The Potter’ our Heavenly Father is pleased with and a person that I am pleased with too. I have not arrived nor have I finished the refining process, but my faithful Father has hovered near me this whole time, acting as my glue, gently helping me to piece it all together. “He is near to the broken hearted and He comforts those who mourn” - paraphrase - Psalm 147:3

4 comments:

Jason and Kristin said...

Beautiful...thanks. Love you

Estelle said...

Welcome to Holland Poem

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this......

When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.

After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."

"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."

But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.

The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.

So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.

It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."

And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.

But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.

by Emily Perl Kingsley

Anonymous said...

My heart has been deeply touched by your post, Charlene. I identified with everything you said. Thank you for sharing your journey and your thoughts with us. God bless your day.

Ruth

Anonymous said...

Charlene,

I just stumbled across your blog through a link. I can identify with what you wrote so eloquently. For the most part, I'm on the other side of the grief, but there are those times it comes back...I'm so thankful we have our Lord Jesus to walk with us through it!