Monday, August 29, 2022

A Silent Grief

 It felt like a punch in the gut. News both sad and shocking. It felt like a blind side hit from an NFL linebacker. I did not see it coming. Once the shock wore off the silent grief took root. I drove for a bit. I considered going to talk to a friend but talked myself out of it. I just wanted to talk to somebody, but felt I had nobody but Brenda with whom I could bear my soul. I returned to the office and tried to study. I could not concentrate. 

The grief slowly built throughout the day. The pain welling up in my stomach. Part of me wishes I could weep it out, but after decades in ministry I have learned to toughen up under bad news and press forward. It hurts. Press down the tears. Keep a stiff upper lip. 

Before you start letting your imagination run wild, nobody has done anything to my family. The source of grief was some bad news that hit hard concerning people I love very much. There is nothing I can do to change the situation. I am left alone in this office to process this information through the filter of God and His word. They alone sustain me. 

A heartfelt prayer. A promise read and received make all the difference. I will have to hold the grief down inside as I trudge through the duties of the day. It is interesting how one piece of bad news can cut like a knife. Before receiving that news I had a great start to the day. Now I sit like a wounded animal cornered in this office licking the wounds of a pained heart. 

Maybe this is too honest. Too raw for some to handle. Many personify me as tough, bold, confident and other things. Maybe I am those things. I am also a pastor. To put that another way, I am a shepherd at heart. I love and care about people. When people I love hurt, I feel a measure of their pain. Most people do not see this side of me. It is mainly reserved for private visits, private counseling appointments and out of the spot light ministry like interceding for others. 

Pastors carry many hidden scars from the griefs they bear on behalf of their flocks. Pastors labor in fields of death, disease, prodigals, backsliders, miscarriages, divorce and other unpleasant things parishioners go through. Many pastors live with a heavy heart. It is a calling from God. I love being a pastor. Next to Jesus and my family, the flock God has entrusted to me is my third great love. That means I will hurt when they hurt. I will grieve silently from time to time. God is faithful to pull me through as I know He is able and willing to do for each of you. Psalm 34:18-19. 

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