Tragedy is always with us. It lies dormant until we’re lulled into complacency. Then, when we’re comfortably certain of sunshine, our certainty is blown away by an inexplicably savage storm. What! How can this happen? I don’t deserve this. I didn’t do anything wrong.
Now blackness seems normal; sunshine seems a dirty lie.
Both are illusions. Normality changes with the wind. There are happy days, terrible days, and days uneventful. People stricken by tragedy know all this, but sudden loss drives all rationality from the mind. How can you be reasonable when your heart has exploded?
Grief overpowers all else. How can it be otherwise.
It shouldn’t be otherwise. The madness of grief is testimony to the importance of what was taken away. Grief honors what was taken unfairly. Grief is not something to be fixed. It’s something to be respected.
For most of human history grief was respected. In modern times grief is thought a sad condition in need of correction. This is a childish thought. Mommy cannot kiss it better. Tragedy leaves a hole in the heart that remains for life.
Those who attempt to comfort those who grieve offer empty assurances, “Take heart. It will pass. You’ll heal in time”. It’s all well-meant, but it only rubs salt in the wound. Souls howling in grief cannot be comforted. You can’t tell them you understand.
They know you cannot. Grief is personal.
Standing aside, head bowed and sorrowful, is the only respectful thing to be done.
Despite that, an army of professional grief-counselors stand ready to leap into action.
So much action to so little effect takes years of training.
The secular religion of psychology has worked tirelessly to replace compassion with technique. Psychology has no technique that can fix a broken heart. Broken hearts cannot be fixed, only endured.
Endurance is noble. That thought means nothing to the grief-stricken. It should mean something to those around them. The nobility of suffering should not be disrespected by those who imagine suffering an aberration to be cured. Suffering may be the only condition guaranteed in this life.
God’s children know this deep down. That’s why they sorrow for those who sorrow. It’s the most that can be done, it’s the least that can be done - it’s all that can be done.
This is a world of sorrows strangely mixed with intermittent happiness. It’s seen as often through a veil of tears as it’s seen through smiles. If you don’t know that now, you will.
Those who grieve have a lot of company. It’s a reality that will console none of them. It shouldn’t.
Grief cannot be consoled, only endured.
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I wrote this essay as tribute to the grief of my dear cousin Karen who recently lost her son to incurable disease. I wish I could do more. I cannot, except for the advice I give myself: Enjoy what you can. Abide the rest. Nothing else can be done.
Christ sacrificed his life for ours. Because of Christ’s sacrifice, those who grieve in this life are assured peace in Heaven. That’s a blessing for all who suffer.
Let it be, let it be.