"For everything there is a season, a time for every activity under heaven...A time to cry and a time to laugh. A time to grieve and a time to dance."
~ Ecclesiastes 3:1,4
"Grief is itself a medicine."
Is there any experience on earth as gut-wrenching as grieving over a loss? The pain cuts so deeply. Life gets turned upside down. The trivial stuff that once seemed so important loses its significance. The hurt can be all-consuming.
I know. I have grieved a lot. And when I am in the midst of it, I HATE it. I intensely dislike my tears and how they seem to have a will of their own. I cannot stand the sick, gnawing feeling in my stomach that makes it difficult to eat. I hate the congestion and the headaches that follow every weeping session. I despise how weak and unmotivated I feel, and how my emotions seem to paralyze me. I loathe how embarrassed I feel about it, and how I withdraw into my protective shell as I go through the grieving process. I cannot stand how hard it is to sleep when that's all I want to do.
When I grieve, I feel as if I am locked inside a cocoon. But as I grieve, the layers engulfing me begin to peel away. It's a slow process. But it's my only way out. I wrestle through one layer, only to find another one awaiting me. Some layers fall away more easily than others.
I know from experience that the best thing to do is to press through the grief. I may hate everything about it, but I know it's my only healthy option. If I refuse to give in to the grief, I will remain imprisoned by my loss. There's only one way out ~ one layer at a time, one day at a time ~ until I get to the point where I no longer feel the need to cry. My trail of tears that I despised become my path to freedom.
"The sorrow which has no vent in tears may make other organs weep."