Attending worship service was one of the most healing things for me when I was grieving deeply.
Phil and I made it a tradition to take our boys to church every Sunday throughout our marriage. Even after burying our eldest son, we continued to attend church services regularly. Some weeks, I had the energy to dress up nicely for the occasion, while others, I had to settle for grabbing my cleanest dirty work clothes from the closet floor and wearing them to church.
I requested a substitute for my 4th to 6th-grade Sunday School class for two consecutive Sundays as I felt I would need that much time to grieve. I was clueless. I had no energy to prepare and teach the class of children whom I had grown to love for the next seven months.
In the aftermath of Joseph’s passing, I was consumed by a sense of profound emotional and spiritual exhaustion. The weight of my grief was so heavy that I found myself unable to engage in the activities that had once brought me joy and comfort. I couldn’t muster the energy to pray, and even the simple act of singing felt like an insurmountable task. My heart was heavy, and my soul was weary.
The church showed up and supported me while I adjusted to my new reality.
When I stood stoically, unable to pray, they prayed. When I was incapable of singing praises to God, they sang. The body of Christ stepped in and did for me what I could not. They worshipped.
After shifting the focus off myself, I saw friends who had also endured great trials now worshipping with exuberance.
I wanted to worship like they did despite my grief.
Over time, other broken and scarred people came to church. Finally, it dawned on me – those people need me to sing and pray for them.
As more broken individuals enter my life, I find myself worshipping more. And I take a few more steps along my unwanted journey.
I am grateful.
A personal note …
Friend,
Are you in the throes of deep grief? Go to church. You don’t have to worship if you are not up to it. Allow the church to do it for you. It may take some time, but eventually, you will begin to join in, and your grief will slowly but surely lighten.
Shelley