Sally Ferguson writes with clarity and sensitivity, and this post is no exception. In this Grief UPGRADE, she shares how prayer is the lifeline for believers who grapple with the devastation of grief.
"I curled up next to my 95 year old grandmother, as we contemplated how our lives had turned upside down," Sally says. "Her only child, my mom, had died suddenly of heart failure."
I (Dawn) think every loved one's passing bring's grief, but the sudden loss is especially hard. I remember my prayers when my daddy passed unexpectedly into eternity. I felt like I mumbled prayers only the Spirit of God could understand; I was in so much pain. Sally understands this and has a good word of encouragement for us here.
Sally continues . . .
Facing the loss of his business partner and wife of 54 years, my dad entered no-man’s land of mental collapse.
I felt like I had not only lost one parent, but two.
The ensuing months of doctor visits with Dad, hospital stays and tests brought a diagnosis of dementia and Alzheimer’s. His ability to function was enhanced by a multitude of drugs, and his subsequent move into my home was brightened by the presence of my toddling granddaughter.
In the worst of times, I saw my grandmother and my father rely on the Lord. That night cradled next to my Gra’ma, I glimpsed a window into heaven when I heard the most intimate prayer of a child relying on her heavenly Father for her needs.
In days when Dad was not able to express much else, he could respond with prayer that made more sense than a lot of the words I’ve uttered.
What is it about a lifestyle of prayer that ingrains a habit so deeply in the heart and enables one to call out to God, even in the midst of the unthinkable?
On my friend’s deathbed, her practice of prayer was still a priority. But it was for others, not herself.
At 54, her body was ravaged by cancer, but her mind still held on to the promises of God found in Christ. As different ones visited in her hospital room, Jodie bowed her head and lifted an earnest request for each one gathered around her bed.
Her pleas for their protection and guidance were fueled by the urgency of her own mortality.
I met with my 91-year-old writer friend, Bea, the second week in December. By the third day of January, she was gone.
Bea and I had prayed over many manuscripts and life needs, and each time she prayed, I knew she was talking to a Friend.
Memories are sacred treasures we hold in our hearts.
I walked through the deaths of four prayer warriors in a little over four years.
Mom, Gra’ma, Jodie and Bea left an indescribable void.
I am still observing my dad’s reverent conversations with the Lord and the miracle of his mental health being restored.
Is God still there? Does God still care? Absolutely!
As a young adult, I heard my pastor say, based on Matthew 6:8, “He knows and He cares.” I have continued to see that truth play out in my life as the Lord has walked me through suffering.
Living in the shadow of death, it helped to know God worked in the lives of others who were familiar with pain, and He would be there for me, too.
The trauma of grief is one each one of us faces in life, yet the pulse of prayer runs through our veins with hope in the Resurrection of Christ.
From foxhole to hospice care, we all return to prayer in our greatest need.
Our Creator installed that default mode, so we would know how to call out to Him.
Indeed, Ecclesiastes 3:11 says He has placed eternity in our hearts. The link of prayer may be more noticeable in crisis, but it is available every day of our lives.
When we pray, hard times cannot crush us, because we know Who to lean on.
I have not yet reached the other side of my crisis, as we continue to grapple with my dad’s health. But I am stronger for the journey.
Faith in God was modeled for me and proved true as He held on to me through the devastation of loss. On the days when grief covered me with a blanket of despair, my heart still knew to call out to God, my Safe Tower.
Suffering also earns you the right to be heard.
People listen, because there is respect for one who suffers.
Grief hurts. But compassion for others rises out of vulnerability.
What would I want others to learn from my journey with grief?
- Life is precious.
- We have a legacy to leave to those who come behind us, and the mantle of responsibility for that heritage has been passed on to us.
- When loss is devastating, my heart’s desire is to let others know God is always there and He always cares.
We find Him in the pulse of prayer.
How have you modeled prayer for your family?
Sally Ferguson loves organizing retreats and seeing relationships blossom in time away from the daily routine. Her coloring book, What Will I Be When I Grow Up? (Warner Press) and ebook, How to Plan a Women’s Retreat are both available on Amazon. Stop in for a chat at www.sallyferguson.net