"I have such mixed feelings going into this new year because Dad isn't in it," I wrote on New Year's Eve, December 31, 2020.
I continued, "He's in 2020. There are memories of him in most of the year. But he's not in 2021. I feel like I'm moving forward without him. And I so desperately want to hold on to him. Jesus, help me to release this year into your hands. Help me to release each of those that I loss this year to you."
The following day my phone was flooded with New Year's greetings and messages - texts, emails facebook messages and posts. Many expressed relief that 2020 finally came to a close and looked for a fresh start in 2021. But I couldn't process them - I could barely read them. Instead, I text my sister, "I've realized this past week that I've been dreading the turn of the new year. Everyone has been posting things about being so glad 2020 is over and looking forward to 2021 but I don't feel that way. Dad isn't in 2021. So I don't want to go there. It feels like another layer of loss from him." She agreed. At least I wasn't alone...
2020 holds so much loss, so many unexpected twists and turns, maybe even upheavals. Canceled events, missed graduations, celebrations, conferences, awards ceremonies, lost jobs, closed businesses, moving without being able to fully say good-bye as we might want, and death...lots of death. In my own world, I unexpectedly lost 4 family and friends very dear to me, all unrelated circumstances. And while I understand why so many would be glad to 'put 2020 behind us', there's another part of me that cherishes memories and people that I lost last year, as well as the new lessons and relationships I gained.
First, my dear friend Allison was unexpectedly ushered home to meet Jesus on March 6th a couple weeks following a traumatic brain injury. Allison was one of my first of many friends when I moved to Indianapolis over 15 years ago. She is deeply loved and so incredibly missed.
As we suddenly found ourselves in a pandemic quarantine that month, we also soon learned my Dad was diagnosed with a rare cancer in the lining of his lungs and would need intensive surgery to remove it. The last week of May my Dad laid in a hospital bed an hour away following surgery while we were limited to just phone calls to his nurse and to him to check in on him. That week, May 31st, his only brother, my uncle Roger, passed away. A few days later, while bringing my Dad home from the hospital, we finally let him know about his older brother.
Just a couple months later, while recovering from surgery and regaining strength and energy, seemingly beating the cancer in his body, my own Dad suffered a major stroke in the night. The following day, August 14th, he too left this life and entered into Jesus' presence. To say that we were shock would be an understatement. We were to celebrate my parents' 60th wedding anniversary and my Dad's 85th birthday in October. We still celebrated here, knowing that he celebrated in heaven much more than we could imagine.
As I try to begin to process everything from last year, I have found myself telling the Lord, "It's too much. I feel overwhelmed by loss, by change, by grief. I can't even begin to process it all. I don't even know where to start..."
I'm still sad and miss each one of them in different ways, but obviously losing my Dad has been the most overwhelming, especially after living with my parents for the previous year. It's the first time I have lost someone who lived in my home, and there's no escaping the gap they leave at every turn. Every morning I walk down the steps and flip on the kitchen and hallway lights, looking back to the bed where he slept the last 3 years, the bed where I found him the morning of his stroke.
Sometimes I'm still angry and frustrated with the Lord for taking him, feeling like it was too soon, feeling as though I got stripped of something I rightfully deserved. At times I feel like a 3-year old kicking and screaming, pounding her fists on the floor, pleading that what was taken from me would be given back, even though I know in my head it's not possible. But we always want more time, right? As my sister said to me, "A girl is never ready to lose her Daddy."
So as many others are posting their 2020 reading lists and books for next year, or their 2021 goals and visions (which are all very good things), I took time to grieve these dear friends and family that I lost last year.
I thought and prayed through the following 'grief questions' given to me by a dear friend several years ago:
- What do I miss? (What am I sad about?)
- What am I angry about? (It's okay to be angry!)
- What am I learning? (About myself, about the Lord, about grief?)
- What do I need now? (What does it look like to move forward?)
With each one, I asked the Lord, "Help me to release them into Your hands."
Then I spent time thanking Jesus for each of these people in my life and the roles they played. I thanked Him, more than anything, that I know that each of them knew Him and are joyously with Him today. That alone gives me so much comfort and hope! I thanked Him that the reason I miss them so deeply is because I loved them so deeply. I thanked Him for the ways He was present to me throughout the losses of this year - the ways He heard my cries, the ways He ministered to me through creation and through others in my life, the ways He spoke to me through His Word over and over again. Despite my losses last year, He is GOOD - He hears us, He sees us, He takes care of us, He draws near to us. It's in His nature to do so!
As I come into this new year, I'm asking the Lord to help me HOPE, TRUST and WAIT on Him. And in the meantime I am asking Him to do something NEW in my life - to bring new hope and life to my heart and to my soul. Today I wrote, "Lord, help me to hope and trust and wait on you as you do your work behind the scenes in creating new things and new life."
And again, God reminded me through His Word how He is in the business of creating new things and new life. "...Abraham believed in the God who brings the dead back to life and who creates new things out of nothing. Even when there was no reason for hope, Abraham kept hoping..." (Romans 4:17b-18a).
I'm still grieving, and I will continue to do so. I'm still sad. I still miss each of them, especially my Dad. Sometimes I'm still angry or frustrated. Sometimes I have regrets - things I wish I would have done or said. But while I'm grieving, I'm also HOPING, TRUSTING and WAITING on Jesus to do a NEW thing in my heart and in my life. I don't know what that new thing will be or look like, but I can be expectant because I know that He gives good gifts to His children, because He's a good Father and He loves us. In fact, He delights in us and rejoices over us with singing! (Zephaniah 3:17)
Friend, no matter what your losses this past year - events, celebrations, job, community, church, health, or a death - of a parent, grandparent, spouse, child, friend - regardless, know that YOU ARE NOT ALONE! Whatever you are feeling today (sadness, frustration, anger, numbness, whatever), it's ok. And even if you don't see or hear or feel God, know that He sees you. He hears you. He is near to you.
God's Word is full to the brim of promises of His care for us in times of grief. The Lord is near to the brokenhearted (Psalm 34:18). He even keeps track of your sorrows and collects all your tears in a bottle (Psalm 56:8).
Even if you can't hope today for the new year, much less tomorrow, I and others will hope for you. I don't hope in the New Year itself, in 2021 - there's nothing magical about a new year, or about turning a page on the calendar. But I hope in the God who promises to do new things, the God who has the power to defeat death. I hope in the God who turns our mourning into joyful dancing (Psalm 30:11). I hope in the God who brings the dead back to life and who can create a new thing that has yet to be.
And so I will hope, I will trust, I will wait on Him to do a new thing.
What new thing do you want to ask God to do for you this year, or this day?
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