A Letter to Grief: Comfort Can Come from Writing through Tough Emotions
Guest post by Kate Motaung.
Dear Grief,
I shudder to refer to you as “dear.” Yet you have been with me for so long that you have become a part of me, which I suppose entitles you to this term of affection, though my heart grants it unwillingly.
You are an enigmatic and elusive creature, a chameleon, changing color with habitat and season. Some say you pass with time, like grains of sand sifting through my fingers, no longer resting in the safety of my palm. Others say you are a process, as if by accomplishing twelve prescribed steps I could graduate from your possession and be free of you. But you are not a process. You do not pass, at least not in this lifetime.
You invoke both fits of rage and resigned surrender. You produce burning tears and melancholy, hollow stares. You grip, cripple, and choke, squeezing life out of lungs. You suffocate. Then you relent, and make your bed in the well of empty hearts. You pull up the covers, and you lie down for a while.
You are my rising star, my setting sun, and everything in between. You dwell with me—in me—but you are not my master. You roam on a leash, tethered by the One who owns you. You haven’t always been here, and one day you’ll disappear, for there’s only one Alpha and Omega. One beginning and one end, and you are neither.
You will not win, nor overcome. You’ve already been subdued and defeated, for “death has been swallowed up by victory” (1 Corinthians 15:54). A day is coming soon when you’ll be deemed redundant and your crown obsolete, for there shall be “no more death, or mourning, or crying or pain” (Revelation 21:4).
On that day, O Grief, you will no longer be called “dear” . . . nor even a distant memory.
Kate Motaung
Kate Motaung is the author of several books including Letters to Grief: Finding Healing and Comfort in Your Loss, 101 Prayers for Comfort in Difficult Times, A Place to Land: A Story of Longing and Belonging, and Share Your Story: The Transforming Power of Telling Others What God Has Done. She and her husband have three young adult children and currently live in West Michigan. Find Kate at katemotaung.com or fiveminutefriday.com.
Preorder one of her latest books on grief by Feb. 28, 2024, and receive some lovely bonuses here.
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