This blog post was written two years ago shortly after my sweet uncle passed quietly with his daughter and sisters in the room. I wrote this while untangling the grief I felt mingled with the sorrow of a difficult year. And then left it to collect electrical cobwebs. In trying to write my next blog (small teaser, it is no less easy to read let alone write and no less a sorrowful year), I was meandering through my un-shared words and found this . Dusted off, polished up, and presented for you, my dear friend. Though dark, though hard, it is dripping with hope and grace.

We do not bear the burdens of this life alone.

I watched my uncle’s life escape his body. I watched as his daughter cried and his sisters sighed at the loss of someone they love deeply. His last breath came and was gone. His heart stilled along with his relationships with his children, his sisters, his friends. The pallor of death took over his body as the blood took the path of least resistance and pooled to the lowest point. His body didn’t move, but he was gone.

Though the grief was heavy on my family, we did not bear it alone. Yet, we each felt it alone.

The grief over his last days culminated in the tears of the living surrounding the dead. The unexpected trips to say goodbye, the harried-ness of the time to have one last moment with him, the change of plans and purpose to see him once more puts life in perspective.

That the end of all living is death. Man is like the flowers that fade when the breath of God is upon them.

In that space looking at the dead, we felt this deeply.

My heart has been heavy through these years. Sorrow has been a common thread in my relationships. The loss of something is sometimes hard to put in words. The loss of time, or of space, or of life, or of innocence, or of understanding, or of forgiveness, or of mercy, or of kindness is more felt than understood. Grief from all this loss has been a constant companion, a familiar presence.

Perhaps you, likewise, have experienced grief in the loss of relationship, in the regret of an action or word, in the evils felt in this world, in the sorrow of life unexplained. In this heaviness, the body desires nothing more than to hide from all people and responsibilities, the mind escapes pain and suffering pushing away tears and stuffing down feelings deep into the heart. And the soul throws prayers at this God whose character is HESED. Who promises peace, joy, and lovingkindness.

Though the grief is heavy on the soul, we do not bear it alone. Yet, it is lonely felt.

I found myself saying prayers. No, that isn’t true. I was screaming prayers trying to alleviate this grief from my heavy heart to His haunting home. My prayers were not words said, they were words felt, words crashing against my soul reverberating through the space where I uttered them. In the aftermath, there was only silence. Utter silence.

Nothing shatters the soul more than the silence of God.

I sent my words, send my words, continually to the Word. My words are temporal and temperamental, His are eternal and steadfast. And maybe, just maybe, some of my words tie into His through this world – this space and time I occupy. And maybe, just maybe, I mingle with the eternal. And my prayers are heard in the strident and the silence. And He bottles all my tears and knows their number.

In the aftermath of my explosive sorrow before the LORD of HESED, I still feel the grief from sorrows my voice no longer can utter, my heart no longer can carry. I can’t help but wonder if this year was meant for me to feel this deeply:

For he shall grow up before him as a tender plant, and as a root out of a dry ground: he hath no form nor comeliness; and when we shall see him, [there is] no beauty that we should desire him. He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were [our] faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. Isaiah 53:2-4 (kjv)

Though my grief is heavy on my soul, I do not bear it alone. Yet, I endure it because He already carries it with me, for me.

But he [was] wounded for our transgressions, [he was] bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace [was] upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the LORD hath laid on him the iniquity of us all. Isaiah 53:5-6 (kjv)

If I’m utterly honest, the grief I feel includes my own regret at my own actions and words that have caused harm to others, even those silent hurts others feel that I am unaware of. And equally as honest, the grief I feel is my own imagination run wild with what ifs and how comes even though these add not one moment to my life. Again, if I am completely honest, the grief I feel comes from the sins of my own friends and family that are done against me openly and behind my back, because even this bites hard.

I can sense what you are thinking: “Oh, spiritofmemories, how can you write something so melancholy during this joyous of seasons?” And you are right. Christmastime is a reflection of the wonderful creative and redemptive process of a God whose character is HESED. Who brings joy and comfort. But creation and redemption mean nothing if we ignore this condition that we exist in. The sorrow we bear over our own guilt, the grief we experience over the loss of relationships, the pain we feel over hurts and harms done, the hopelessness we find ourselves in when we focus on the sins of this world do weigh heavy on our fragile hearts.

He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth: he is brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he openeth not his mouth. He was taken from prison and from judgment: and who shall declare his generation? for he was cut off out of the land of the living: for the transgression of my people was he stricken. And he made his grave with the wicked, and with the rich in his death; because he had done no violence, neither [was any] deceit in his mouth. Isaiah 53:7-9 (kjv)

Crazy how at this time, near the year’s end, when inventory is taken on the past and minds meander this cacophony of joy screamed and hope longed for. How the season’s light is short and the night is long reflecting what is felt. No matter how hard I try to escape the burdens I carry: the silence of God is strongly felt, the bearing of grief alone strongly felt, the heaviness of heart strongly felt. And I wish everyone a Merry this or Happy that while tears threaten to fall with every step.

Though my burdens bear arduously, I am not alone. He calls me to cast my cares on Him, because His burden is light this LORD of HESED. Who settles my heart with Him who carries my afflictions.

A friend visited me the other day. Friends are the oxygen in a polluted world. I hope you have friends like this. She reminded me to look to the God whose character is HESED, even in His silence, in the quiet. He knows, He carries, He hears, He sees, He feels because He walked this road I am on years ago and today.

Yet it pleased the LORD to bruise him; he hath put [him] to grief: when thou shalt make his soul an offering for sin, he shall see [his] seed, he shall prolong [his] days, and the pleasure of the LORD shall prosper in his hand. He shall see of the travail of his soul, [and] shall be satisfied: by his knowledge shall my righteous servant justify many; for he shall bear their iniquities. Isaiah 53:10-11 (kjv)

Though my grief aches deeply, the God whose character is HESED quietly takes up my burdens. Nailed to the cross forever. And the Man of sorrows buried in a rich man’s cave breathes deep.

His breath brings life to this flower that fades.

This is my hope when I must carry grief, because He carries me. In the silence, He holds me.