I went kicking, I went screaming, Thrown into the deep Filled with fear and not believing There'd be help for me
Grief... it's not something that most people run towards. Rather, as a culture we've made a big deal of ways to avoid and not deal with grief.
Seemed the world I knew was gone
Sorrow had become my home
I sort of feel like as a culture we only know how to get stuck in grief or how to avoid it. But not how to enter into it in a healthy way. How to walk with people. How to hold onto the good and the bad at the same time.
In the depths of my own darkness
I felt saving hands
People who would brave the water
Get me back to land
Now I'm only trying to be
The same thing that they were to me
I don't have any real desire to walk into the house of grief. It's a painful place. But friends - when we're there, we're there and what we need more than anything is someone to wade out into the water with us, to brave getting wet to help bring us back to dry land. We don't need someone to say "There's a reason for your loss," or "I know how much it costs" - we don't know, we can't know, and frankly we waste time trying to find reasons that only God can understand. The amazing thing about walking into the house of grief with someone is that it doesn't take any special skills - just the ability to sit and listen. To be with.
One thing I discovered
is that in this house of grieving
There's communion in the suffering
You are not alone
You are not alone. Hear that again - if you are finding yourself in the house of grief you are not alone. And when you aren't dwelling in the house of grief, what a gift you have that you can walk in, and sit with someone. Feel with them, hold them close. Show them that love has the final word.
I'm a terrible hiker. I tend to spend all of my time looking at my feet trying to make sure I don't fall, slip, trip. And legitimately the beauty of the hike is rarely on the ground.
I'm the strong one, I'm not nervous
I'm as tough as the crust of the earth is
I move mountains, I move churches
And I glow 'cause I know what my worth is
After work today I went for a "hike" - I didn't go far, Seaquest State Park is just up the road, and provides some beautiful trails in and around their campsites and yurts. In between the trees covered in moss there are paths that lead you in circles, in through around and over the base-ish area of Mt St Helen's. And I was struck with how much of life is like that: a path that you maybe don't quite know where it's leading. I'm pretty good with a map (maybe I'm not a complete loss as a hiker) but was struck by how "not to scale" the map posted on the trails is. Some parts that look short are long and some parts that look long are short. But then, how much of the path of life is like that: deceptive... A trial may feel deceptively long, a peaceful time may feel deceptively short. Uphill hiking for however long it is can feel like it's been your entire walk, like you'll never make it to the top.
I don't ask how hard the work is
Got a rough indestructible surface
Diamonds and platinum, I find 'em, I flatten 'em
I take what I'm handed, I break what's demanding
And then there are the puddles. Because I'm hiking in Western Washington in March I knew what I was in for - I actually didn't get rained on in the two hours I spent outside, which is nothing short of a miracle in and of itself. But I found evidence of this morning's rain, in the form of a small "creek" flowing down the path. My first reaction was "uhh... this is the walking path... what is the water doing here?" After a few moments my brain kicked in and reminded me that water will always flow down the path of least resistance, and of course the path is easier than flowing through the trees. While this made all kinds of possibly heretical connections in my brain, I do wonder this, and think maybe it is sound theology: when we ask God to flow through us like living water, are we prepared for the destruction that He may need to bring about as it creates a path of least resistance? There is definitely beauty in the flowing of the water... but what about the process that it took to make that walking path that became the creek bed.
Under the surface
I feel berserk as a tightrope walker in a three-ring circus
Under the surface
Was Hercules ever like "Yo, I don't wanna fight Cerberus"?
Under the surface
I'm pretty sure I'm worthless if I can't be of service
A flaw or a crack
The straw in the stack
That breaks the camel's back
What breaks the camel's back
I keep walking. A tree has fallen, blocking the path. My downward turned eyes catch the tree across the path, I adjust and step over it and the crisis of a possible tripping hazard is avoided (I'm remarkably not as muddy at this point as I expected, despite multiple times of steps slipping out from under me, I have stayed upright and on my feet). However, I think about what it takes for this tree to fall over. Note in the left of the above picture, you can see where the roots have been literally pulled up out of the ground. I realize that small inconveniences to me (a log I need to step over) have been violent events in the life of the forest around me. God says "look up" what do you see - take stock of those around you, not just the pressures you are facing. In the forest of life it is not just about you, but your relationship with everything around you.
Pressure like a grip, grip, grip and it won't let go, whoa
Pressure like a tick, tick, tick 'til it's ready to blow, whoa
Give it to your sister and never wonder
If the same pressure would've pulled you under
Who am I if I don't have what it takes?
No cracks, no breaks
No mistakes, no pressure
This picture is the underside of a tree that has fallen. It's not the same tree, because I wasn't feeling quite that off-trail adventurous today. But the scarring in the ground and to the tree is the same. Roots facing above ground are never a good sign.
Where are you facing pressure that just won't stop? Where is there violence crashing in around you, destruction? Where are you looking? This song does not end hopefully. It's not a worship song, it doesn't point back to Jesus. But the song is fitting for me today, because I have spent the last several months fighting with feeling like I should be able to shoulder all the pressure on my own.
Under the surface
I hide my nerves, and it worsens, I worry something is gonna hurt us
Under the surface
The ship doesn't swerve as it heard how big the iceberg is
Under the surface
I think about my purpose, can I somehow preserve this?
My purpose is not to preserve my own image. My purpose is to point people to Jesus. To look up from my path, to see the trees around me, the lives around me, and to say "nope - I can't do this on my own... I'm not strong enough." I'm terrible at letting others in under the surface. It is not my happy place. But if I keep that under the surface I live in continual worry that something is going to hurt me.
So. My goal this week is to find the right people that I can let glimpse under the surface, as I work to hand the pressure to God. Because I do not need to worry if HE can handle it. And, this is me admitting that I, personally, can not.
Praise God that He will meet me on that path, in the midst of the water and the trees, the violence of a past storm and the calm of today to remind me that He is there, that He is good, and that He will not falter under the pressure, even when I do.
I'm the strong one, I'm not nervous
I'm as tough as the crust of the earth is
I move mountains, I move churches
And I glow 'cause I know what my worth is
I don't ask how hard the work is
Got a rough indestructible surface
Diamonds and platinum, I find 'em, I flatten 'em
I take what I'm handed, I break what's demanding
But
Under the surface
I feel berserk as a tightrope walker in a three-ring circus
Under the surface
Was Hercules ever like "Yo, I don't wanna fight Cerberus"?
Under the surface
I'm pretty sure I'm worthless if I can't be of service
A flaw or a crack
The straw in the stack
That breaks the camel's back
What breaks the camel's back it's
Pressure like a drip, drip, drip that'll never stop, whoa
Pressure that'll tip, tip, tip 'till you just go pop, whoa
Give it to your sister, your sister's older
Give her all the heavy things we can't shoulder
Who am I if I can't run with the ball?
If I fall to
Pressure like a grip, grip, grip and it won't let go, whoa
Pressure like a tick, tick, tick 'til it's ready to blow, whoa
Give it to your sister, your sister's stronger
See if she can hang on a little longer
Who am I if I can't carry it all?
If I falter
Under the surface
I hide my nerves, and it worsens, I worry something is gonna hurt us
Under the surface
The ship doesn't swerve as it heard how big the iceberg is
Under the surface
I think about my purpose, can I somehow preserve this?
Line up the dominoes
A light wind blows
You try to stop it tumbling
But on and on it goes
But wait
If I could shake the crushing weight of expectations
Would that free some room up for joy
Or relaxation, or simple pleasure?
Instead we measure this growing pressure
Keeps growing, keep going
'Cause all we know is
Pressure like a drip, drip, drip that'll never stop, whoa
Pressure that'll tip, tip, tip 'til you just go pop, whoa-oh-oh
Give it to your sister, it doesn't hurt
And see if she can handle every family burden
Watch as she buckles and bends but never breaks
No mistakes just
Pressure like a grip, grip, grip and it won't let go, whoa
Pressure like a tick, tick, tick 'til it's ready to blow, whoa
