Learning Through Loss
“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted” ~Psalm 34:18
Grief has a way of stretching time and compressing it all at once. It changes ordinary days and reminds us how fragile and precious life is.
My dear friend Rachel Dahlhausen wrote the reflection below after walking through the illness and homegoing of her father. What I appreciate most is her honesty. She does not rush sorrow, and she does not try to control it. She simply tells the truth — grief is exhausting, and yet God’s grace is greater.
Scripture reminds us that the Lord is near to the brokenhearted (Psalm 34:18). He does not stand at a distance from our pain. He strengthens, sustains, and holds fast.
If you are walking through loss, I pray these words steady you and remind you that God’s love meets us even here.
By His Grace,
Tracy
Rachel writes…
Yesterday marked the nine-month anniversary of dad’s homegoing.
Nine months.
Three quarters of a year.
One school year.
The length of time it takes to grow a child in the womb.
How quickly and slowly nine months can move.
Many of you have said goodbye to someone dear to you.
Some of you have lost many.
All of us will, in the course of our lifetime, lose people we love.
But as my friend said recently,
“I didn’t LOSE them. They aren’t lost. They knew where they were going. I know where they are! It is heaven, their truest of homes.”
I love that.
For the one who has put their trust in Christ, this is absolutely true.
For the one who has not, “lost” is a haunting word — because lost is the reality of their condition.
Over the next few weeks I want to share a few things that were helpful to me during my dad’s grueling eight-month illness and since his death, as well as some observations I’ve made thus far as I walk this road.
Things That Were Helpful
First, the one thing that has been supremely evident to me throughout the last year and a half is God’s GRACE.
Overflowing.
Drenching.
Abundant.
Tangible grace.
God does strengthen in sorrow.
God does hold you fast.
Grief can be terrible, but it cannot strongarm God’s grace.
Grace is greater.
Grace is beautiful.
Secondly, good music was tremendously helpful.
I had my Spotify playlists, and there were songs I would play over and over again:
“Like A Child With Its Mother” by Caroline Cobb
“Praise You In This Storm” by Natalie Grant
“When Christ Our Life Appears” by Coffey Ministries
“Flowers” by Samantha Ebert
“No One Ever Cared for Me like Jesus” by Steffany Gretzinger
And the Scripture Lullaby series.
They were some of my daily meditations for months.
They are still my almost daily meditations.
Observations
Grief is exhausting.
Emotional pain is far more tiring than physical exertion.
Be kind to yourself.
Make room for rest.
Recognize that grief cannot be “controlled” by a five-step action plan.
Grief is.
And that’s ok.
God says that grief is. He teaches us about it in the Psalms and other places.
And He says one day there won’t be any more grief.
But here on earth, it can be crushing.
So make room for things that refresh.
For me, physical exercise was a specific gift from God to help me deal with the emotional and mental toll.
Think now of the things you would want to say to someone you love if they were dying.
Then say them.
Say them now.
Tell them how much you care about them.
Tell them what you appreciate about them.
Work hard to be the kind of person, by God’s Grace, that doesn’t have regrets.
Make right the things that you do regret.
It is a precious thing to have a relationship that is sweet and trusting and open — and to be able to say goodbye in that state
Recommendation
Record the voices of the ones you love.
Save a funny voicemail they leave.
Take videos of them in everyday moments.
I don’t mean to do this excessively or obsessively, but it’s something I hadn’t considered till near the end — and wish I had more of.
I have five voicemails from my dad that I never deleted from over the past five years.
I’m so glad I was bad about cleaning out my voicemail.
Four of his messages are super short and practical, but I love them.
I love them because I hear dad’s voice — and because he says “love you” at the end of two of them. It was often his ending to his messages.
The fifth message is one he left me after I’d called mom upset about something.
He called to give me “dad advice.”
He made a cute joke at the beginning.
He encouraged me with truth. He said, “if you think it’s a good idea,” as he made an application — trusting my judgment and leaving me free to take his advice or not.
And he ended it with, “period.”
Because he forgot that he wasn’t voice texting — he was leaving a voice message.
That message makes me cry every time.
But in the good way.
