From a Word from Becky, my monthly newsletter to my readers
Dear friends,
I write this on the eve of All Saints Day! Each month, I ask God what to share with you for my monthly reflection. This month, I feel drawn to share a beautiful image my grief counselor offered me that I hope helps all of you as we prepare for All Saints Day and All Souls Day.
For the last two years, I have met every other week with a grief counselor. The last few times we met, she invited me to hold an image of a garden to help me process the grief journey. Her invitation to me was: Imagine a garden with a big, beautiful tree as an integral part of the landscape. Imagine the fullness of the garden that surrounds the tree. Imagine the other plants and flowers in the garden.
She then compared a death or a loss to the tree suddenly dying. The landscape of the garden suddenly changed. The stump of the tree that once was there remains. She said in early stages of grief, we focus all our energy on the missing tree. We see the empty stump. There are days and moments that is all we can see. Our energy is on survival and taking the next step without the person or the missing part of our lives.
As she shared the image with me, I started beating myself up as to how often I felt that the only thing I could see was what was lost and was no more. She firmly and gently reminded me that’s the early work of our mourning. To acknowledge the loss and the pain. To beg God to come into it and to help us through the painful loss.
Her invitation to me about this garden continued. She said as our journey with grief continues our vision shifts to see that while the stump of the tree is still there that somehow the garden continued to grow around it. There are still flowers and plants. There is life. There is even somehow new life. Maybe new plants coming from seeds planted that we could not see because we were so focused on the stump of the missing tree.
She keeps gently inviting me to not only name and honor the loss, but also to meet God in the widening of my vision to name what is also there. What is growing around this stump of loss? What new seeds were planted? What signs of new life?
She even had the audacity to ask me “Becky, what have you and your family gained?” (I’ll be honest I did not love that question. However, I also know it is the exact right question God is trying to turn my vision towards even if I am wrestling with answering it.)
I am writing this today because I hope this image might help you or someone you are walking with who is grieving. I know we all have loss in our lives, whether it is a person we love who died or a change in our life. These last weeks it has profoundly helped my prayer, and I thought maybe it might help you also.
While I can name what we have lost these past years, I am not fully ready to have God show me what we have gained. Some days it is just too painful. But I do know that God is with me no matter where I can focus my attention. On the days it’s only the stump, God is there with me looking at it. On the newer moments of widened vision, I do know God is there showing me new life at the pace I am ready for.
God is with you, too, whether you can see only the stump of loss in your garden of life or see both the loss and the new life or whether you are in a season of savoring the harvest.
Tomorrow, as we celebrate All Saints, ask your favorite Saints to pray for you and with you. Invite them to pray for the people in your life who are grieving. As we come to All Souls Day on Saturday, ask those Saints you love to pray for you as you remember your loved ones. Invite your loved one to pray for you and with you.
As for me, I will be asking my heavenly club of Saints and loved ones to help me say “yes” to God’s invitation to widen my vision and notice not only what was lost, but what has been gained. I pray this for you, and I pray this for the people you are walking with who are grieving too!
May we all honor the stumps and celebrate the garden of life that continues to grow!
Peace,
Becky
Photo by Jacob Biewer on Unsplash