In the last few weeks, I’ve had the pleasure of spending time with radiant people in their final days on this earth, each battling their own terminal illnesses. There seems to be a clarity that comes with the approaching hour of death—as their footsteps move closer from this life into the next.
I can’t help but ask some of life’s big questions and then sit back and hear their clear voice in response. There is a melody that rings true and pure in all the responses I receive. This melody is the embodiment of a paradox. These men and women hold, beautifully, their suffering and their peace. Their joy—their love.
We seem to live in a time that dictates that we can only feel one thing at a time. It is an age of either/or. Either you feel this or you feel that. Either you’re in stage one of your grief or stage five. The world seems to speak of moving beyond a time of grief to get to a time of joy. The consensus seems to be that we need to stop feeling pain to feel peace.
This Saturday, I was given the gift of a day off from “mom duties,” and without much thinking, I drove directly to a little chapel I knew would be open and very quiet. As I sat and received some necessary refreshment for my soul, I also received a glorious truth:
“Johanna, you may think you are finite because of your time or ability, but in Me, you are infinite. What you think about yourself is irrelevant. My truth is all that matters.”
We may not believe it, but it’s true: We have the capacity to embrace an existence that is far beyond what we think we can do. We have an ability to embrace so many more dimensions of our human existence. As we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we can also be high in the mountain tops, experiencing the breathtaking view.
More often than not, my grief coaching sessions begin quite similarly. I ask, “How are you?” And the client often responds, “Actually, I’m not good. This is what I’m feeling today.” Yet, what follows is often a fruitful conversation about what else is possible in this moment of suffering. Sometimes, all it takes is the acknowledgment of the dominant feeling and the reminder that more is possible—not just in the future but in the here and now.
What is your dominant feeling today? How can you acknowledge that feeling and give it space to speak? What else is God calling you into?