“He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul.” Psalm 23:2-3
I find myself yearning for quiet places. Some say I am hiding. Some say I am grieving. Some say I am hibernating during this dark season. Some say I am antisocial. Some say I am different. I don’t know who is right. Perhaps they all are correct. The quiet places have become my refuge–my safe space.
I wanted these quiet spaces after I lost Ella. I took them for the first few weeks after I lost her. I needed them just as I needed air to breathe. Quickly I began to feel pushed back into “normal” life. I struggled with what “normal” life looked like when I felt anything but “normal” anymore.
Finding your path while grieving is tricky. There is a lot of advice and preconceptions out there about what your grief should look like. I struggled with my own preconceptions, let alone trying to balance the “shoulds” of others.
There were many ways I tried to do grief the “right way.” After doing that grieving thing for several weeks, I started to completely break down. Emotionally, mentally, and physically, I was losing control.
Blake and I were driving in the car when the song “Just Be Held” came on by Casting Crowns. I sat there for a few moments and said, “That song is what I am trying to say.” He waited, giving me time to digest and process, or maybe he was trying to just choose his words carefully. We were on shaky ground. He could see me falling apart. And I could see the fear and hopelessness in his eyes because he knew that he couldn’t fix it. He finally said, “Tell me what you heard in that song.”
That song was my AH-HA moment, maybe the most important AH-HA moment of my life. It took me back to the mission field the first week we arrived. We were at a retreat. We were listening to a series on Law and Gospel. I remembered an important distinction that was made about Law and Gospel: Law is what we do, and Gospel is what God does. Our presenter went on to say that in every moment when you encounter someone, you have to carefully discern whether to give that person Law or Gospel. Is this a moment where they need to do something, or do they need to hear what God has done, is doing, and will continue to do?
I realized while listening to the lyrics:
“You’re not alone, stop holding on and just be held… I’m on the throne, stop holding on and just be held.”
People kept giving me Law (including myself) and what I needed was Gospel. My broken heart could not be fixed by anything that I could do. This was the time to turn everything to God. It was time for Him to work. It was time for me to be still. I needed to be held.
I have come to understand that most people (my former self included) do not know what to say to broken, hurting people. Even the really good sounding things to say end up being wrong, and a lot of people don’t say anything at all. Week after week I heard great advice like: “Trust in Jesus,” “Cling to His Word,” “Remember the gifts He has given you.” The list went on. I struggled with this advice. It was hard to hear, and it took me a really long time to understand why. I came to realize that when other people would usher in a response of “encouraging words,” it made me feel as if they were uncomfortable sitting with me in my grief– like they were trying to rush me through the moment. I treasured the friends who would sit with me and just be sad in the moment, often times without words at all. I also realized that while I was given a great list of Biblical advice, It was all law. It was all a list of what I should do–all verbs requiring my action.
These action verbs were so hard to hear because I knew that I was totally and completely inadequate to heal my broken self. There was no amount of trust, clinging, or prayer that could come out of my heart to put myself back together. When I tried to do any of those actions, they didn’t heal me; they left me more broken. I was at the point of collapse…until I heard the words, “just be held.”
I wasn’t supposed to do anything at all. I needed to stop trying. I needed to let it all go. I needed to be held, and I needed to hide in His arms. I stopped feeling guilty for finding alone time. I stopped trying to DO grieving. I hid in His Word. I sat with my Bible open alone. Sometimes I would read. Sometimes I would just sit. Sometimes I would letter out verses or lyrics. Sometimes I would find peace and understanding. Sometimes I would process through emotions. I began to notice that when a few days would pass without me intentionally hiding in His Word, I would start to fall apart.
Not long after I lost Ella, I scribbled a verse on the cover of my Bible, “You are my hiding place” Psalm 32:7. Funny how I didn’t truly understand that this was the path I should have taken right away in my grieving. Maybe I needed to stare at it time and time again until it finally sank in.
There was a verse I remember learning as a child that I never understood. It was also a popular worship song from the 80s that would likely get stuck in your head. This verse used to drive me crazy… Oh how grief opens your eyes… Often when I read passages now they take on a completely new meaning.
“Where shall I go from Your Spirit?
Or where shall I flee from Your presence?
If I ascend to heaven, You are there!
If I make my bed in Sheol, You are there!
If I take the wings of the morning
and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
even there Your hand shall lead me,
and Your right hand shall hold me.
If I say, surely the darkness shall cover me,
and the light about me be night,”
even the darkness is not dark to You;
the night is bright as the day
for darkness is as light with You.”
Psalm 139:7-12
My former self did not understand. The author isn’t trying to run from God. The “where shall I go from your Spirit?” isn’t looking for a place away from God, it’s a reminder that God will be with you when you want or need to hide from the world. When your life comes crashing down and when you find it hard to breathe, God is there. When you have nowhere to go and need to find a safe place, God will lead you there. When your world is dark and you are walking through the valley of the shadow of death… God sees light in your darkness. He sees the hope in your future even when you can’t. This was written by someone who needed comfort, who needed to escape the trials of this broken world, who needed to find a safe space, who needed to hide. The author isn’t trying to run from God but reminding himself that God will be there always when he runs from the weight of the sinful and broken world.
Right now I need to take the wings of the morning to hide from the broken world. Oh the irony. It is beautiful the way God writes our stories. As I sit here reading these verses, I know it is by His poetic design that I live on an island in the Caribbean Sea. He knew I would be needing to take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea. Never before in my life did dwelling in the uttermost parts of the sea sound so comforting. But it does now, and I am already here. God led me here because He knew this is what I would need.
I need to run. But I need to know that no matter how far I run, it won’t be too far for God. He will be there. He will not only find me, but He will lead me to my hiding place. I need to hide, and His right hand will hold me as I hide. This is where I believe He will heal me. And I need to believe that He sees the light in my darkness. He sees the hope when I cannot. He sees past the broken me. He knows the plans that He has for me. He sees the future. I do not. I don’t need to. I just need to be held. Because I know that He will restore my soul–in the middle of the sea–in the safety of His right hand.
