What Grief Feels Like: Wave Pool

For those of you who are not my Facebook friends, here's a piece of news for you: I bought a house! It's a quaint little 1900 house in my favorite Michigan hometown. It's hard to believe I signed almost two weeks ago - and will be fully moved in less than a week.

The day of the signing, I posted on Facebook that I was feeling very overwhelmed. People kept asking me if I was excited, and honestly, I felt anything but excitement. I felt mostly overwhelmed. Like you've taken me to the edge of the sand, shown me the ocean, told me that something exciting is just beyond that horizon...but, I don't believe you because all I see are the waves.

My Facebook memory that day had pulled up a quote a friend had shared from 1 Peter: May the grace and peace of our Lord Jesus abound as you grasp more and more the hope of our call. Two years ago, while we were going through Dan's treatment - I saw those words as a prayer we should pray for all those when we are tempted to say trite, worthless lies like: God doesn't give you more than you can handle. Stop saying that - and start saying, "I will pray for you that even in this overwhelming circumstance that the grace and peace of our Lord Jesus will abound for you that you will come to know with more assurance the hope of our call, of his firm love for us and our security in that love" - because that is the only thing worth meaning.

I digress. I posted that asking for my friends to pray for me as I prepared to sign for my house. ...and all the stress I had felt gripping me for the previous two days melted away - and I felt overwhelming peace before, during, and after the signing. SUCH PEACE. Amen. God is good.


So, now it is crunch time. It is get the shit in the boxes time. Moving starts at 1:30 pm on Sunday (if you're looking for a fun time for a couple hours. I promise I'll make it worth your while).

...and tonight, while I started packing the bathroom closet, I got bowled over by this:

Those are beach towels - which for any of our Tucson friends might look familiar. For those new to our story, our Tucson home had a pool. (which was impossibly to keep blue. IM.possible.) We loved hosting our friends and family when they visited in the pool - and kept towels on hand for those in need. 

I pulled seven beach towels from the top shelf and placed them in the box...thinking about Tucson. ...and then thought, "when will I ever need this many beach towels in Michigan?" ...and that thought began a spiral into the what was, and what will not ever be wave pool. 

Wave Pool. If you've been to a water park, you've ventured into the wave pool. It's tolerable - a little constant motion of the waves moving you back and forth...and then, as you get a little deeper, it gathers force pushing you back and pulling you deeper, water breaking against your body.

I mentioned via text to my friend Leslie that I felt a little weepy. I tried to explain why...and then the tears came. Once they started, it became a sob. ...and then gasping sobs, holding onto the door frame while your whole body grieves for what has been lost - both what was, and what will not be. 

I hadn't experienced that level of grieving for a while. ...not since returning from Ireland - so (exactly) three months ago. 

Beach towels.

and curtains. 

"They" say that you don't know what will trigger you...and I guess that's true. ...and there's no need to try to figure it out. What is needed is that you let yourself enter into and endure the wave pool. Because you know what happens in the wave pool? It subsides. It stills. It is not constant. It is not forever. ...but, you have to let yourself feel it or you will not reach the stillness of healing.

Yesterday's Gospel reading (Luke 12:13-21) is the parable of a man with an abundant harvest who decides that he will build bins and storehouses, as a way to ensure that he will never be in want - and will never have to rely on God again - because he has provided for himself and ensured his provision for years to come. The warning to him comes: "You fool, don't you know that this very night your life will be demanded of you, and the things you have prepared - to whom will they belong? So it will be for all who store up treasures for themselves, but are not rich in what matters to God."  

That reading, especially that line sat with me. As my grief wave began to still, I remembered, "for one's life does not consist in possessions." ...I don't need 7 beach towels. I don't. There are people who do; these are nice towels. They should be shared - and used - and not stored in boxes growing musty and dusty. 

One's life does not consist in possessions. 

Use your possessions to make memories with people. People. 

Be rich in what matters to God: people. 

My people, may grace and peace abound to you through our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.