Monday, September 09, 2019

Closure: Part 3

A few weeks later, I was feeling teary about saying goodbye to Colorado and having some closure to this beautiful place and hard season. The end of September will bring an opportunity for me to go and attempt closure or securing of the unraveling.

I've realized that the last words my Dad ever said specifically to me were about going to one of my favorite places in Colorado and how he thought I should go. Being that it was winter and we suddenly had funeral arrangements to make, Christmas to treasure and closure to what sometimes seemed it would never end, I didn't make it that time. I feel a pull to go there and sit quietly with the Lord allowing my heart to start to heal.

Unraveled vs secured - this stands out to me as key in this process. Also, realizing it is not an event, but a process. It will require surrendering something I love, a willingness to not be stuck looking backward but willing to look forward.

Philippians 3:13-14, "But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus."

Of course this doesn't mean forgetting a loved one, but I think there can be a wishing for the past or the way things used to be, etc. I don't want to get stuck in that - but rather make new life-giving memories that keep my heart soft and pliable before the Lord.

Isaiah 43:19, "Behold, I am doing a new thing, now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert."

In some ways grief is a desert, it is dry and draining and tiring and wearying. Yet can't we experience hope when we process these things and grow through them rather than setting up house amidst them?

As I've written through all of this, the idea of unraveling comes again - a yarn unraveled is wispy, weak and almost worthless threads but when secured together they are useful for creating, attaching and serving.

I want these unraveled ends in my heart to not only be secured for strength and usefulness but so I can more completely tether myself to Him. This is the pressing on - unraveling comes, life throws things at us. The choice is not to stay there but again to grow through it. Not to forget the loved one or loved place but to rejoice in God's goodness and embrace that we are still alive and choosing how to spend our days and live our lives.

The unraveling isn't wrong - but with willingness, can emerge to embrace to be secured and to be whole in Christ.

I'd love to hear your thoughts about walking through closure with beauty and grace!


*carrie* said...

Grateful for these heartfelt reflections. And for you!!

Ginger said...

My parents are (nearly) 92 and 88, respectively. When they are gone, I will have to walk through closure to sell the house they have had since 1964 and lived in since 1967 when Dad retired from the Air Force. My goal is to then move to the mountains of NC or the foothills in SC. That will close the door on the only life I have ever known. I have lived in the SC Lowcountry since September of 1967. I want to move; I am even eager to do so, but that does not mean it will be easy. In the last few years, I have found myself reminiscing quite a bit about the "good old days" when I was a kid in the 70s. Perhaps I think about that time too much to the detriment of my future life.

Rachel said...

Monica, it is good to read these reflections of grief, closure, and tethering yourself to Christ. We are in the midst of letting go of a loved one who lives far away. It is so hard to be so far away as her cancer is far progressed though recently discovered. We are processing this new reality, praying for her salvation and sending my husband as often as we can to share as many moments as possible, all while attending to the many needs and rhythms of our life here in CO. There is nothing easy about it, but we rest in the assurance that God sees our broken hearts and is a ready comfort and guide for whatever lies ahead.
Your words were an encouragement tonight.