Grace for the Grieving

We enjoyed a guest speaker for our weekend group yesterday.  Kurt Sauder and his wife Kristen launched Further Still Ministries before her death a few years ago.  Kurt has since remarried.

He shared with us his, almost two decades running, wilderness days.  Kurt now leads retreats for wilderness days, and while I would love to jump in, my work schedule makes that impossible for now.

What I took away from the time with Kurt was his closing statement.  He shared that just prior to her death, Kristen told him that if God did not heal her, it would be incredibly hard for their tight-knit family.  She told Kurt and their children to give each other grace in the difficult days.  "Give the children grace. Give your Daddy grace."

Her wisdom came from years of time spent with God.  I could not help but think about how we fail at this.  Grief is ugly and often stressful, and we can really tend to lash out at those closest to us in that difficult period, but with the help of God we can extend grace.

It reminds me of how gracious Ekatereena Gordeeva was in the book she wrote about losing her husband.  Gordeeva's in-laws blamed her for his death.  She did not feed him right, did not take good enough care of him.  Though that statement was untrue and came with quite a bite, she stated that it was okay that they all said horrible things in the face of their unbearable grief.

I am reminded too of the undeserved grace I received right after losing Dad.  In a pinch to get to work, I watched helplessly as Zach's car rolled backwards into our neighbor's tree.  I had left it in gear after moving it out of the way of my vehicle so that I could leave for work. Nobody ripped me apart over it.

I then locked both my phone and keys in my car on my way out of town to pick Savannah up from school for her winter break.  It had been a busy, rough day for Andy, and I was making the trip to help him out.  However, he pulled into that gas station to unlock my car and then sent me home.  He insisted that we could park my car, and he would drive us all to get Savannah, or I could go home.  Andy recognized that I needed rest, and while he needed it too, I was clearly coming apart.

I am also reminded of times I failed to offer grace.  I hope to do better in the future.  I also hope for a very long time before grief comes knocking around here again.