When I was a newly bereaved parent I went along to a grief support group. Every month a few mothers would gather and we’d share our stories and our pain. Every month we talked about the same things. We went round and round in circles, going over the same ground and we never seemed to progress a step towards healing.
And although I appreciated the time the volunteers gave to the group to help mothers like me, eventually I had enough. I didn’t want to sit still any longer, wallowing in my misery. I wanted to move forward. I wanted once again to know joy and to smile. To do this, I had to find some meaning in my son’s death. I pondered: Did he live and die for nothing? And so was my pain worthless? Or could I make some sense of the whole situation?
In my search for an answer I found myself thinking about God’s plan for my life, acceptance and trust, the cross and the value of suffering. My baby died and I was suffering. Was this suffering of value? Could I accept it? Could I trust God was looking after me? And would God eventually lead me to healing?
Does anyone else feel the need to move forward towards healing? Are you pondering such questions as mine?