I’m not mechanical, not in the least. I leave that to amazing people like my husband. I do write books and love discussing life-giving topics. Talking about tools makes my mind blackout–unless those tools are instruments that can be used in the healing process and not to make a cabinet.
I want to talk to you about how I’ve changed lately. I can do this with you because so many have reached out to me, expressing familiarity with what I am going through. It’s shocking to see how grief changes you and me, but I’m hoping that in sharing this part of the journey, I can offer what we will call “tools” to help us heal.
Below you will find affiliate links for trusted resources that I hope will encourage healing in your life. If you use the links, it will provide me with a small commission which I will use to help support my family and my love of writing. Thank you for your trust.
How Grief Affects Our Bodies
My family is in the middle of a season of grief. Last November an out-of-control truck literally plowed through the bedroom where my sister Joy was sleeping and killed her. She had a brain injury and I was her primary caregiver at the time. To say that my family and I miss her would be a gross understatement. Our lives have become foreign with a gaping black-hole where Joy used to do her coloring and make witty remarks.
Grief chages you and I in strange ways. It has altered my family’s landscape and contributed to my overall physical decline. Chronic migraines hit when I was fifteen and I missed out on a normal high school experience as I was in and out of hospitals. Recently, as in the last four years, chronic migraines have become debilitating again. (You can read more about that in my book, Memoirs of a Headcase: Held by the God of Hope.) A new medication seemed to be helping a great deal, but grief and depression have caught up with me. I wake every morning with a headache and only rarely is it not a full-blown debilitating migraine. A few months ago, I started shutting down. I stopped leaving the house. I started eating way too much. And I stopped moving.
My weight is like an accordion, sometimes better than others. What concerns me is not just the weight I have gained in this time, but the fact that I allowed my sorrow to hunch me over, to fill me with despair, to convince me to give up on movements that would help heal me.
1. How Grief Changes You . . . to rediscover movement heals
I work with an amazing fitness site, Fit2B.com, that cares more about the women it serves than the aesthetics of the fitness industry. They are weird and quirky, which I adore. Weight is not their primary concern, mentally and physically healthy women are. These are my kind of people. As I shut down, I continued producing graphics for their blog, but rarely used the videos or numerous resources to help myself. I wasn’t bored with them (they have over 200 videos on the site), but I allowed grief and depression to pull me away from what would heal.
Beth, a friend and the founder of Fit2B, realized how bad the migraines were getting. She gently encouraged me to check out the grief recovery video when I was ready and maybe return to simple stretching routines. I knew she was giving me the gentle nudge I needed to pursue healing physically . . . and stop ignoring my inner turmoil. So I started at the free grief routine and used the walking course to help me fight my way back to facing the sunshine on days I could make it outside.
I’m not sure how to describe this. I know that it will sound strange, but bear with me. As I move my body, I feel the presence of God. Not every moment, not during each exercise session. Still, throughout my life, over and over again, I sense Him. When I walk, He helps me process things in a different way. He reminds me of good things, things outside of pain and sorrow. Other times, I have literally had to stop to breathe as I sobbed, discovering a depth to this grief I didn’t fathom possible. And as awful as that sounds, it has been part of healing.
2. How Grief Changes You . . . to find solace in prayer and writing
Throughout this time of grief and chronic pain, I have also found solace in prayer. I have a prayer journal that I write in at least once a week, some weeks every morning. Here I pour out the words that are entrenched, the anger that simmers deep inside. This is where I ask God hard questions and those hard questions find their way into the plots of my novels. Isn’t it funny that He can use fictional characters and their misadventures to help us work through some difficult problems?
In case you are like me and fiction speaks healing to you, I recommend The Masterpiece by Francine Rivers, and At Home in Mitford by Jan Karon. Of course, my novels reflect what God is teaching me and how Rapunzel is working through grief and her (my) difficult questions.
3. How Grief Changes You . . . to need deep friendships and humor
The third and final tool that I must recommend is friendship. My friends have saved my life. Those of you who have deep friendships will understand and those of you who don’t, I beg you to go be a friend to someone so that you can receive this gift in kind. In friendship, I have learned the hard lesson of how to laugh till my belly aches even during sorrow. I have remembered how to face what hurts and call it by its name.
These friends have shown loyalty and steadfastness that lifts me to God when I can’t think of how to pray for others or myself. I wish I could link you to friends, but I’m afraid this tool you will have to find for yourself. But do it. Find a church body where you can serve and worship. Reach out and let others know you with honesty. I am not exaggerating, friends will help heal you.
Photo Credit: Kat J, Kristina Tripkovic