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When It’s Divine to Mourn

For everything there is a season

 

{Originally posted October 2, 2014}

If you ran into me in town lately and I told you I was fine, I was sort of lying. Please don’t take it personally; I was lying to myself too. I see now that I’ve been in a bit of a funk. As usual, I didn’t recognize it until it was half-way into the rearview mirror.

Something happens every fall. Grief sneaks up on me silently, like bare feet on a soft forest path. I pride myself on my Annoying Perkiness (seriously, I’ve been told that I have AP), so I turn the music up, raise my chin a little higher, and say I’m doing fine until it’s clear I’m deceiving myself.

This time of year, I identify with words like taciturn and melancholy. I lose track of time scrolling through old photos, text my adult children more often, and take longer naps. I’m not depressed. I’m just a bit mournful. That’s okay, right?

Gratefully, I’ve never dealt with clinical depression. Just this old, familiar ennui that slips its arms around me from time to time. Especially at this time of year. I’ve learned not to fight it. Those arms are not going to crush me. It’s more than okay to give in, to mourn things lost, to wait for the cleansing tears.

It’s like a deep longing for something beyond my grasp.

If I allow myself to put a face to it, I see my dad smiling at me with squinty, mischievous eyes, cigarette-stained teeth, and gray cheek-stubble. I see my petite mom wearing her mint-green smock, looking up at me in that familiar way. The way that says “You are so indescribably special to me.” I wish so hard that today I could reach out and touch her on the shoulder, pull her into an embrace.

I see my kids when they were young. Sean has colored up his face with my berry lipstick. Marissa is picking out a song by ear on the piano.

It’s clear to me now that grieving a loss is never a once-and-for-all process. It’s a slow shedding of leaves you had hoped to wear forever. Every time the breeze carries a few more away, you feel a little more uncovered and vulnerable. We say we’re learning to let go, but do we really have a choice? You can do this the hard way, or you can do this the easy way.

Each day, more speckled  leaves coat our lawn and driveway. They’re lovely, reminding me that death and loss and change can be hauntingly beautiful. And the rotating seasons affirm that it’s not an end. Just another new beginning.

Solomon wrote in Ecclesiastes that there are divinely appointed times for mourning. I’m okay with my divine funk. Laughter will follow soon enough.

Hallelujah!

Clear Lake_Fall

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18 Responses to When It’s Divine to Mourn

  1. rebekah 11/14/2016 at 7:03 pm #

    Hello Kit,
    I am at the other end with my children all young…#5 at 5wks old. But i know this time will come. Right now i pray i can be the mom they need. I remember when we lived next door in that yellow townhouse to you. Your youngest was 5 at the time. Some days i’m buried in the parenting, homeschooling, and breaking up fights. I would welcome even half a day to myself! Thank you for posting these thoughts. Say hi to garth for us!

    • Kit 11/16/2016 at 3:57 pm #

      Hi Rebekah! #5, wow! Congratulations to you and Tim. You are certainly in the thick of it. Probably just feels like surviving much of the time. Sometimes the precious and the hard things are one and the same. Praying for your sweet family, especially grace for the moment. And then the next, ha! Much love.

  2. Julie Klinsky 11/13/2016 at 9:45 am #

    My friend Kathy just asked me why she is missing her mom so much lately …. NOW I have something to tell her. Thanks Kit!

    • Kit 11/13/2016 at 10:22 am #

      Hi Julie!
      I’ve come to believe that we each have our own emotional rhythms. We haven’t done anything wrong, and it’s not a faith crisis. As always, our heavenly Father saw it coming and desires to walk through it with us. Big love to Kathy <3

  3. Ngobesing Romanus 10/14/2014 at 12:53 pm #

    Great site. Congrats.

    • Kit 10/14/2014 at 12:58 pm #

      Thanks so much for stopping by, Ngobesing. Bless you today!

  4. Brett 10/13/2014 at 10:02 am #

    “I’m okay with my divine funk. Laughter will follow soon enough.” – Great line! And I agree. And I, for some reason, think the fact that you’re names are Kit and Garth is awesome. They’re just cool names that go well together. I know that’s completely off topic.

    Beautiful thoughts in your piece here. I get nostalgic a bit around now and am trying hard to allow that nostalgia to drive me to small bits of relational action, around my parents, my kids, and my spouse.

    thank you for writing!

    • Kit 10/13/2014 at 10:48 am #

      Appreciate your comments, Brett! Garth thanks you too. 🙂

  5. Tahlia Meredith 10/13/2014 at 12:08 am #

    Beautiful words Kit, thank you for sharing them with us x

    • Kit 10/13/2014 at 9:02 am #

      Thank you, Tahlia!

  6. BETH BRANCH 10/12/2014 at 5:00 pm #

    Kit, it’s my first time to your blog. The pictures are so inviting and I could tell I had a connection with you at once. We have the same Father, you see. I also have heard the same thing about grief, not only that it will creep up on you, but that there is often a pattern to it. My mother died this past February, my father and I by her side. The flashbacks have lessened. But I anticipate this regular pattern of grieving. I admit the thought that I’ll be the one person that will grieve and “do it all wrong” has crossed my mind. Not sure where that comes from. Hmmm, maybe a blog post is brewing! LOL! Anyway, I really like your blog and the beauty it displays, from the beauty of His creation to the beauty of His Word. Thank you!

    • Kit 10/13/2014 at 9:02 am #

      Thanks for the encouragement, Beth! I appreciate that you focus on grief on your blog. My mom died five years ago in December, but a couple months prior to that (in the fall) we had to move her into a care home. I’m sure that series of events is the deepest emotional trigger for my seasonal funk. But the Lord is a great comforter, and this longing I carry is one way she stays present with me. It’s a glorious discomfort 🙂

  7. Denise 10/02/2014 at 10:27 pm #

    Oh my gosh! I can relate to this feeling completely! Thank you for helping me realize it’s ok to feel this way… Your words are so eloquently written. Thank you for sharing your beautiful words.

    • Kit 10/02/2014 at 10:36 pm #

      Thanks, Denise! I guess we all feel this way sometimes, and it’s probably healthy to acknowledge that we will feel this way again. XXOO

  8. Toots Lindblad 10/02/2014 at 3:43 pm #

    Oh my…….too beautiful for words.

    • Carol Bracy 10/02/2014 at 10:17 pm #

      I get it…and it helps me to identify some of my own feelings. Thanks, very nice.

      • Kit 10/02/2014 at 10:34 pm #

        Hi Carol, glad to hear from you. Hugs!

    • Kit 10/02/2014 at 10:32 pm #

      Thank you, Toots. XXOO

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