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Endurance for the Journey, Featured, Grief

My heart cries out over Moab;
her fugitives flee as far as Zoar,
as far as Eglath Shelishiyah.
They go up the way to Luhith,
weeping as they go;
on the road to Horonaim
they lament their destruction.
ISAIAH 15:1-5 (NIV)



The ancients seem a lot better than we are at expressing deep emotion. We often bottle it up; they raised their voices in loud laments. “My heart cries out over Moab,” Isaiah wailed. We might follow their example.


I used to deny my feelings of sadness until my doctor insisted I let them out. One Christmas I was upstairs alone in our guest room, wrapping presents for the kids. I thought of past Christmas seasons when I would delight in choosing just the right gift for my parents. How I looked forward to watching them open their presents! But both had passed away years before and I would never be able to give them another Christmas gift. My heart was sad.


My first instinct was to run, get the children and cheer myself up. Then I recalled my doctor’s voice: “Stop!” So I stopped and allowed myself to feel. Soon I started to cry. I didn’t just cry; I wailed, feeling the sorrow from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. Yet after I was done, I felt lighter, cleaner. Crying felt so good that I wondered why I had avoided it for so many years.



A time to cry and a time to laugh.
A time to grieve and a time to dance.
ECCLESIASTES 3:4 (NLT)



On the journey with you,
Jan Dravecky

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