On Grief and Hope

I had never witnessed my grandfather shed a single tear before the morning my grandmother died. Living the closest, I was first to arrive at her hospital room while she was taking her final breaths. I remember grabbing her hand and my Bible that I had left there the evening prior and reading Psalm 23 aloud. Seconds later, my grandfather entered the room.

I will never forget what transpired next. His expression was half-crazed. He looked at me and my tears. I could only shake my head ever so slightly. He looked at my grandmother, his sweetheart since the eighth grade, and then let out the most gut-wrenching sounds of sheer and utter grief. His grief pierced through my own. This man who helped raise me. This man who sacrificed for his family. This man with the quirky sense of humor and big heart. To see him so grief-stricken, it left me undone.

And that's the thing about grief. It doesn't matter if you were expecting it or not, the response is the same. When it comes to loss, there's not really a way in which to adequately prepare. Losing someone you love is devastating. I don't fully agree with the old adage that "time heals all wounds." I think with time, there is a lessening of the severity. There is an acceptance. Life continues in its fluidity. It doesn't, even if we wanted it to, remain stagnant, stationary.

I attended a funeral last week. I appreciated how the pastor talked about hope. Hope in the midst of grief. Hope from a life well-lived. A life rooted in Grace.

I have been pondering his words. Especially at Christmastime. A world full of hurting people. People without hope. Hopeless. And sometimes, even those who know, forget and need to be reminded. I know I have experienced times like that myself.

Because there is a difference. There is still grief. There is still loss. There is still hurting here in this place. But there is a Hope that audaciously stands firm in the midst of life's storms. There is a Hope for what's beyond the here and now. Beyond the struggles. Beyond this life. There is a Hope Eternal.

And that hope came down at Christmastime. For us.

"So let us sing Redemption Song,
Let us worship Christ the Holy one,
We were lost, but we were found,
When Hope Came Down,
When Hope Came Down." – Kari Jobe 

And so, I want to share that Hope with the hopeless. To pause. Look around. See the hurting, and in some small way, intervene.

And it doesn't have to be something extraordinary. A small act of service. A kind word. A smile.

You can never underestimate how even the smallest, seemingly inconsequential act will impact others and spark hope in their hearts.