Valley of Fire State Park, Nevada March 18, 2015 |
I have often heard church folks say they do not know how
people get through a death without any faith.
I can appreciate that their particular faith is important to them and
they cannot imagine being without it at a time of loss, but they may have a
limited view of the faith that supports us in our grief. Faith, like any other aspect of grief, is
intensely personal and unique to the person.
Faith is not always a religious experience. A non-religious person may have a deep faith that
should not be discounted because it is not the same as a religious faith. This article is about the role and importance
of faith, regardless of its substance, in grief. What does faith bring to our grief journey?
A close loss shakes the foundations of our lives. Someone we care about and have counted on is
no longer with us. Their voice, their
presence, their concern, and the little things they did for us are no longer
part of our lives. Things we have come
to take for granted are gone.
Assumptions about ourselves and the way things “should be” are forever
changed. The “it-could-never-happen” has
happened and the ground beneath our lives is very, very shaky.
Faith includes all those assumptions and beliefs that help
us get through our day. It gives us
something to steady our lives as the changes begin to accumulate. Faith offers us something to lean on when the
ground is shaking, and we are afraid.
Faith gives us the eyes to see love and trust, joy and hope in the
world. It allows us to keep on going by
clearing away the fog of disappointment, sadness, fear, and loneliness. Faith gives us what we need to get through
the shadowed valley of grief. It helps
us put one foot on front of the other and handle our hurt because we know it is
not the last word.
Our faith allows us to accept the journey for what it is, a
part of life as we understand it. Faith
is the trust we place in the assumptions we make about life. These assumptions may be captured in reasoned
philosophical argument. For religious
folks they may be captured in reasoned theological argument. Neither set of assumptions, religious or
non-religious, appear to be any better than the other as long as it serves us well
as we walk through the shadowed valley,
How can you tell if your path is serving you well? Does it bring comfort and encouragement? Does it foster hope and trust? Does it allow you to grieve and deal with
questions when confusion arises? Does it
give you the strength you need to cope with the losses and changes in your
life? If so, then it is serving you well
and you can lean on your faith. If not,
listen and look for other ways to see and understand yourself in the
world. Listen to the stories of other
traditions. Talk with people. Learn,
grow, and develop your own faith. The
shadowed valley offers each of us an unwanted but none the less valuable
opportunity to grow into life, in part by discovering our faith.
Over the years, Marlene and I have walked many miles on
trails through valleys, deserts, mountainsides, and marshes. The most important tool I carry is a walking
stick that I can count on. I have had
quite a few. Some were too
flexible. Some were too rigid. Some of the sticks were too short and others
were too long. Some were too heavy while
others were too light and could not withstand the terrain. In the last few years I have finally found
one that serves me well, regardless of the terrain. It makes the journey much more comfortable
because I can rely on it. I know it will
be there when I need it. Such is our
faith. Lean on it as you make your way
through the shadowed valley. Test
it. Find one that you can count on and
that allows you to make the most of your journey.
If you like Willie Nelson, I encourage you to listen to his new song.
Blessings,
Bob