The first thing I saw on the front cover of the church bulletin was a huge ad that said, “Blessed are those who mourn for they will be comforted”. The naked abruptness of that statement seemed to look right through me. I needed to hear that this morning.
Instead of vague phrases to tell me that it will be okay or that it was meant to be, the preacher praised mourning, redefining it: ‘Mourning is a grief that moves us to action, rooted in a deep loss, knowing that there is a better way God intended things to be.”
Instead of being passively engulfed by depression or sadness, mourning a loss (whether it be a person or a thing or a relationship) has a purpose. It is an ACTION.
And by taking that action–mourning something fully and well, naming it and crying over it—we are blessed. God uses that story, that weakness, that connection, that suffering, we just don’t know how he will use it.
This morning, I sat there thinking of all the things I mourn—my miscarried babies, infertility, poor health, failed/strained relationships, a dead friend, lost jobs, misguided energies, stolen innocence, lack of approval. I wonder if I fully mourned all of these things and I know in my heart I haven’t. I fell into that American myth of “I’m fine”, “I’m strong”, “I can deal with this on my own”. And it didn’t work. I still need to mourn.
I left church this morning with tears still in my eyes wondering how these sufferings will be redeemed. I can’t pretend to fathom what will happen, I just know I want to listen.