“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” (Matthew 5:4 NIV)
This morning I am reading a devotional from Levi Lusko and in it, he shares deeply about how grief has enhanced his spiritual senses. He writes, “Being so near to eternity causes you to almost taste it.” I know I nod silently in agreement. I recall my mother’s passing vividly, and my father’s nearly as clearly. On each awful day, I was in the room where it happened: a spectator but not a participant. My parents passed on into eternity, but my soul was still mired in flesh. The longing for a homeland I’ve never set so much as a toe in became palpable and truly hasn’t lessened since.
Levi goes on to say “God’s whisper was amplified in the deafening roar of death and loss.” He proposes that this is the mystery that Jesus spoke of in the Beatitudes when He blessed the mourning that day. I read his words a few times over and a question I’ve contemplated for years finally feels answered.
I can remember traipsing up the Mount of the Beatitudes. It is a peaceful place; lush and green with an array of flowers in every color. It feels like a garden; a carefully manicured splayed out around a church with a wide veranda. It was one of the very few places where our guide gave us time to wander and pray. I remember walking by the beatitude plaques, wanting to hurry past the one on mourning as if grief could be rushed. I couldn’t bring myself to do it, though. The engraved stone held my attention for several moments and then I found a space to sit on the cool stone slab up under the porch to consider it further. I contemplated the words of Jesus and wondered when my own mourning might make way for blessing. Loss had been such a loud bell in my life for several years at that point, I was struggling to see any benefit. But God’s word never fails. If it feels like failure, we haven’t walked with Him quite far enough.
Today, Levi reminds me of a truth I have already experienced. The grieving are especially sensitive to God’s voice. There is a divine nearness in loss that I can’t hardly describe and somehow the Spirit of God makes mourning more survivable. Furthermore, the reality of heaven is awakened by bereavement. As much as lament hurts, our newfound appreciation for eternity impacts the trajectory of our future earthly engagements. We learn to live in light of heaven. This is a very good thing.
“Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice. No one will take away your joy.” (John 16:22 NIV)
Lord, thank You for the gift of grief. Loos puts us in a powerful position to hear from You. The death of a loved on rips away the trivial from today and arouses us to the reality of eternity. Grief gets us out of superficial mode and forces us to focus on forever. Somehow You take the worst moments and transform them into something Kingdom-oriented and soul-altering. Please grant us courage to cooperate with your Spirit in the crucible of sorrow. May we emerge somehow more like You. Amen.