This past Saturday I got out my old yearbooks from my high school days. I hadn't looked at them in years. However, I needed at least one of them for an object lesson in Sunday School, so I wanted to look through them to see which one had the fondest memories for me, as memories were what we were to discuss. I realized that my sophomore yearbook was my favorite and used it. Why? Halfway through my sophomore year we moved to a different school district. I formed new friendships there, but they lasted only through 2 1/2 years. When I looked at the yearbook that had friendships that had formed over a ten or more year period, I realized that these memories went deeper and brought more fondness. One of the main reasons is it contains a message from a young woman who had become my friend when I was only two and she three years old. We remained fast friends up until a couple of days after Michael and I married. That was when she died in a car accident. Her death brought me much grief and I didn't handle it well.
The first three months of my marriage are a blur. I can remember our honeymoon, because I wasn't informed of her death until it was over, which was the day after her funeral. From the moment I was told everything started to blur. Life was mechanical. Get up, get dressed, make lunch for my husband, try to read and comprehend my Bible, cry...at least I assume that is the way things went, I honestly don't remember. I simply know things got done that needed doing.
One night I went to bed and prayed for the grief to be over. I felt I couldn't handle it anymore. The goodness of God overwhelms me at times, and this was one of those times. I fell asleep quite soundly and dreamed. It was one of those extremely vivid dreams that is so real you can almost reach out and touch it. There were brighter colors than I had ever seen nor have ever seen since. A feeling of whimsy and excitement mixed with grief flowed through me. Then a marvelous thing happened that set me free. My friend's face got right into mine the way a child does when they want to make certain they have your attention. She looked into my eyes and said (and I will never forget this, I don't think), "Would you please stop this! I am HAPPY!!" Then I woke up. I realized at that moment how selfish my grief was. A very heavy burden was lifted from my shoulders that day. I have never felt depressing grief since. Oh, I have grieved. When my daddy passed away last year I cried and still cry at times for my loss, the loss for my siblings and especially for the loss my momma must be feeling. They were married for over sixty years after all. However, knowing that Daddy is with his Savior and King also made my heart sing for him and, if I am completely honest, I felt a little jealousy.
It is difficult to explain how you can feel grief and joy at the same time. It should be impossible, but nothing is impossible with God. So while I indeed feel sadness, there is a deeper joy that goes with it, knowing that my loved ones are in the safest hands possible and I will be with them one day soon.
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