u2areloved

Photo Credit:  http://christykrobinson.blogspot.com/2011/04/she-loved-much.html

A song to help you in your despair:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zvDCcCUL0E0

Some of the hardest tears I ever cried were the ones that were on what I call the killing floor.   Down, down, down you go.  Out pour the tears.  I once had someone tell me if you are sobbing uncontrollably, you should suck your thumb because it will make you stop.  Maybe you’ll start laughing and it will diminish some of the pain.  Yet I find, if and when you are in that place, not much of anything helps.  It’s like the Hoover Dam just burst and no amount of “it’s going to be okays” and hugs will put you back together again.    Time doesn’t heal all wounds; it only seeks to buffer the memory.

I’ve always wondered if men cry this deeply.  I would imagine some do.  I haven’t met one; well not that I know of.  Intuitively, I am pretty sure they exist, but like a tall tower, the perceived risk of collapse and all ensuing aftermath seems so much more catastrophic were they to risk their vulnerability.  We women, well that is part our beauty, our tenderness, our hearts that can shatter like glass.  It’s from the same well of tenderness, that allows us to love passionately.  One of my favorite U2 songs Kite reminds us “you need some protection, the thinner the skin.”  Indeed.

Pain of the deepest magnitude is the twisting and wrenching of one’s soul.  It’s the fear that the depth of this intensity may possibly not end.  It’s knowing that whatever caused this flood is irreversible.  The only thing that can be undone now is you.

Hopefully a family member or friend is there.  But often, in the depths of despair, there isn’t one to be found.  Perhaps a loved one is the cause of this; or worse, perhaps it’s you because of the choices you made.  Abandonment by someone you loved deeply, the death of someone you loved deeply or a dream you held so dear, or the revealed truth of who you truly are is often the bedrock of our grief.  The truth is revealed, in all its ugliness and finality and you already know no amount of tears will change it.  No do-over, no going back in time, there is only now and going forward.

So you cry.   Christians call it the “come to Jesus” moment.  It’s the place you go when there is absolutely nowhere else to go.  The depth of your loss and the pain of you feeling lost is more than you can bear.

       I can’t believe he just left me and the kids; we had everything.

       I lied.  I am so very sorry.

      We regret to inform you that your son was killed in the line of duty.

      I am an addict; and I can’t stop.

     The cancer is growing fast.  If we’re lucky, we’re looking at three months.

      Sweetie, about your mom—she’s not coming back. 

This moment, this is the one that not one of us gets immunity forever from.  Down come the knees; and so we fall.  We all fall; we’re “Falling at Your Feet.”  Pain is hell, but with grace, comes the promise of healing that can start now.  This will be the moment that changes everything from this point forward for you.  It’s the hour of decision and the line you have to draw in the sand.  You must decide, once you rise, who you will be now.

Here’s what I need to let you know.  Cry.  Even Jesus wept.  Cry for your loss.  Cry for the unfairness of it all.  Cry because it’s all true.

Although the next step is the hardest, it will be the best one you’ll ever take: the decision to rise.  Get off that killing floor.  Open the door.  Step out and face the brutality of your reality.  And know this also, you don’t have to do this alone.    For when all is said and done, you will look back and you will just KNOW—this was the moment you decided not only to survive; but to live.   Choose life.

For men are not cast off by the Lord forever.  Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love.   For he does not willingly bring affliction or grief to the children of men.  Lamentations 3:31-33