Permission to Grieve

by Emmoe Doniz

The summer of 2011 was somewhat of a dream.

I spent that June working at my father’s Mexican restaurant located in the northern part of Washington. Imagine eating enchiladas everyday. Breathing in the Pacific NorthWest air every morning. June was a good dream.  

That July, my brother and his wife visited for a week and for the first time in a long time, our family was in the same city. Each day spent together was something special and we all kind of knew it.

By mid July, my brother and sister in law had returned home. My summer in Washington was coming to a close. The last thing to do before my senior year of college was to spend a couple weeks at my brother’s place. But on my last Sunday in Washington, my dad received a call around 7pm. My brother had been hit by a drunk driver. 

Three hours later, my brother died. 

Have you ever seen your parents fall apart? Drop to their knees and crumble into each other’s arms? Beg at the top of their lungs for God to do the impossible?

I think it traumatized me. It lives in my memory. And without meaning to, I reacted to it by pushing my grief aside to comfort my parents. And then I did it again when we went to see my brother’s body for the first time. And then again when we went to the funeral.

I told myself, maybe after everyone is gone I’ll finally have permission to grieve. But I had a senior year to complete. And after that, a job to look for and after that getting settled in a new city and after that…

Life kept going and I felt left behind. I felt like I had no permission to come undone.  Every city I moved to felt less like home. Every new person I met made me feel farther away from my brother. Every new job I landed became an obsession. I became so distant from my grief that I didn’t know how to weep in front of God anymore.

Truth is, Jesus is no stranger to grief. When Mary loses her brother Lazarus in John 11, it says that Jesus sees Mary weeping and weeps with her (33-35). Jesus understood and empathized with her confusion. Mary tells Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died (32).” How many of us have been too scared to talk to God about our experiences like this? How many of us feel ashamed for wanting God to come clean with the “why” and the “what for” to our pain?

Jesus didn’t quiet Mary’s grief, He joined her in it. Though Jesus resurrects Mary’s brother, the promise of resurrection is ours too.

If you’ve been waiting for permission to grieve, this is it. 

Ask God the hard questions and weep in His presence. He understands it all and grieves with you. If you’ve recently lost your job, you have permission to grieve. If home no longer looks the same, you have permission to grieve. If you’ve had to let go of a friendship, you have permission to grieve. If you’ve recently needed to set a boundary, you have permission to grieve. 

10000 MINUTES Practice:

Take a moment today. Whether it’s on your way to work, during your toddler’s nap or on the phone with someone you trust and get in touch with your grief. Bring it to Jesus and let Him grieve with you and comfort you today. 

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The Last Sane Moments Of The Year