grief support letters/special days/holidays/ easter year two

Martha said to Jesus, “Lord, if only you had been there, 

my brother would not have died…Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.” Martha said to him, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day.”

Dear Friend,

As anyone who grieves the death of a loved one knows only too well, soul-sorrow can become especially difficult during holy days and holidays. The first holiday after the death of a loved one often feels surreal—as if the absence is somehow an accident or an aberration—as if, perhaps, he or she is on vacation, or simply gone for the day. The second holiday, and subsequent ones, continue to be a struggle, possibly because the reality of loss has seeped into the groundwater of our souls, no longer affording us anesthesia from the pain-filled moments of sadness amid holiday celebrations. 

Like Martha, in the scriptural quotation above, we cry out to God: “If only you had been here…” Martha speaks for all who mourn as she tells the Lord: “If only you had been there, my brother would not have died.” “If only he were here…” we sometimes wish. “If she could just see the grandkids, she would be so proud.” Or, on a birthday, holiday or anniversary; “Let’s see; how old would he be this year? What might she look like at this age?” “If only I could hear her voice, wishing me ‘Happy Easter’ or his voice telling me, ‘I love you.’” “If only…”

For many of us, the Lenten season and the desert of grief can feel like one and the same. While the joy of Christmas and the happiness of Easter can feel out of synch for those who grieve, the austerity of Lent, with sacrifices including prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, can almost be a comfort. Finally, in the liturgical year, is a season during which the words of Ecclesiastes seem to match: “There is a time for everything under heaven…a time to weep, a time to mourn…” 

The gospels recount many circumstances in which Jesus, tired in body and soul, went into the desert, both to seek renewal and to ask for strength from God. Sometimes, anticipating a hectic day, Jesus used to get up before daybreak and go off to a deserted place to pray. Other times, at the end of the day, the Lord would remove himself from his apostles and from the crowds and seek a place to renew his Spirit and reconnect with his heavenly Father. And Jesus spent 40 days in the desert, resisting temptations and praying for the strength to endure all that the Father had in store for him—including his own impending crucifixion and death. 

The desert is a place of solitude. And, at least on the surface, it seems to be a barren place, where water is scarce and comfort fleeting. Yet somehow, Jesus found peace. Often, he rose early to go into the desert to pray. Why? Might the Lord have experienced the desert as a place where hope-seeds lie hidden under loss-parched soil? As a place awaiting the Water of Life? Could it be that Lord of all Consolation is waiting for us in our life’s desert, inviting us to grow closer to God, to walk more compassionately with his people, to sift what is unimportant or distracting from what is essential and healing? 

Lent serves as a time of preparation—a place of purification. And even though it feels austere, our lives’ Lents are intended to be places where faith blooms and resurrection-hope is planted. Attached is a reflection entitled ‘Amid the Desert of Lent: A Resurrection of Hope.’ We pray that hope will bloom amid the sorrow of your Lent. 

Jesus too sorrowed at the death of his friends. He too may have used the desert as a path through grief. Jesus wept when his friend Lazarus died. And he weeps with us. He responds with loving hope to our regrets and adds healing balm to our pains. He asks Martha—and each of us— to trust him. “Your brother will rise again—everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.” Jesus asks us to trust that he loves us and that in time he will ‘resurrect’ each of us from the tomb of grief and sorrow. 

He calls us by name—we who need to stay in the land of the living, at least for now. He commands us to “Come forth!” And even though we are at times bound hand and feet by sorrow, he invites us, as Lazarus, to be welcomed again into the land of the living. There is a time for sorrow and a time for weeping, but also a time for joy to bloom again, for love and grief to be incorporated together into the living of our daily lives.

As you grow through grief, may God bless you with the strength to endure in his hope. May Christ breathe the blessing of his lasting peace into your heart this Easter Sunday—and may the hope of the Resurrection bloom in your heart and take root in your life. 

In Christ, 

Eileen 

Jesus said, “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.” 

John 11:21-26