As a people-pleasing firstborn pseudo-control-freak I’m all about fixing it.
I’m pretty sure I chose Psychology as one of my college majors because I figured it would better equip me to fix relationships around me.
But life intervened with first smaller unfixable crises and then the ultimate no-way-on-earth-to-fix-it death of Dominic. So I’m not nearly as inclined toward even trying now as I was a few years ago.
Still, I can find myself falling into the old habit of offering up advice instead of offering an ear. I might quickly delve unasked into my own experience and silence a heart that simply needs to be heard. I may well toss out trite “reasons” that “explain” why awful visited my friend while God seemed silent.
Part of the compulsion results from the author’s observation:
The church in general panics when miracles miscarry. We scurry clumsily about to prop up God’s sagging reputation. There must have been a problem, we offer. God must have something even better around the corner, we propose. Must He? Here, then is my Lenten plea for the day: let the mourning mourn. Grant those who grieve the dignity to ask questions. Bestow upon the bewildered permission to not edit their honesty.
Alicia Britt Chole
Recall miracles that ended in heartbreak…when, if ever, have you felt the need to “prop up God’s sagging reputation”?
How might you choose a different approach that grants grace and space to those who mourn?
**As promised, I am sharing thoughts on 40 DAYS OF DECREASE (a Lenten journal/devotional). If you choose to get and use the book yourself, I’ll be a day behind in sharing so as not to influence anyone else’s experience.**
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