A Grief Observed

I never realised I held so much grief and disappointment until recently. And I've been thinking, if I talk start talking about it, it could be a way of coming to terms with my sadness. So I'm writing this now.

Probably it was God prompting me so strongly to attend cell group last Sat, if not I would have gone for a workshop on counselling for youths conducted by the centre that I volunteer with. I shared my all at cell group on Sat and it was the first time I ever told anyone - not to mention such a large group - how I really felt about the deaths of the people close to me. Not even Leo knows the extent of my sadness, I think.

I think for the longest time, I've never admitted to anyone that I was disappointed with God. That I had to lose three loved ones to death. I always told myself I'm happy that two of them have gone to heaven, which was very evident to me. My dad on the night before he died, said he saw angels on chariots receiving him to heaven. It was a very touching experience for me then, cos I knew he was ready to meet his maker. When you hear a dying man say something like that, you can't deny that he has had a deep spiritual experience through his sickness.

My aunt turned back to God and found true peace with him before she left us. Although it was all so clear to me that she was a changed woman - for the better - before she died, I still couldn't come to terms with the fact that God didn't heal her. Like how Elder Freddy said, you still have to pray for healing with faith, no matter what. I'm still grappling with this have faith and not have faith thing.

What probably cemented my grief was when my grandpa jumped to his death from his apartment. I remember being in shock about it, though I knew he was going to do it anytime. He even said bye to me a few days before. It was that sense of helplessness I couldn't deal with. That here was a proud old man so bent on dying, and yet there was nothing anyone could do to change his mind. It really opened my eyes to suicide and how stubborn old people can be. For weeks I didn't dare visit the apartment because it made me so sad to picture him squeezing himself through the tiny window, which now has a metal bar fixed across it by the residential management - to prevent any suicides in future.

Why didn't God change his mind, I often asked. Yet deep down inside, I knew everyone had a choice as to how to live their lives. No one can dictate that. Yes, sure, God can work miracles, but if ultimately you really wanna kill yourself, who can stop you?

I once asked Elder Freddy how to praise God in such grief. And he said: "Praise God for who He is." I'm still learning to praise Him for who he is. God help me.

Gonna pick up this book called A Grief Observed by C.S Lewis, recommended by a friend. He said it would help. I hope so.