Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Redemption in Grief

Good news! I'm learning things in seminary! Yipee! I don't know if I'm learning what I'm "supposed" to be learning...but I'm learning things nonetheless...

One of these boldest lessons came from my Intro to Counseling class last Thursday. The class was on grief, and it was pretty raw. As the professor spoke and classmates shared, I could sense all of my past griefs wanting to come out and say hello. My parent's divorce, the death of friends, friendships torn, family relationships changing, romantic hopes broken, health scares, bands breaking up...all things I have had to seriously grieve in their turn over the years. Each of these things took months to years of emotional energy, counseling and processing to work through and accept. But I realized through this lecture that there is a great gift in grief. Granted, this can only be claimed in retrospect--so don't any one dare tell someone who's grieving that it's a gift--that would be really stupid. But as I look back on these parts of my story, I can see how much I was changed, edified and made alive through each of these painful processes.

One author puts it this way. "I am convinced that most of us, most of the time, live in an anesthetized state. Our bodies may be functioning, but we feel nothing and are aware of nothing of great importance. We suffer from what someone has called 'the anesthesia of the familiar.' To grieve deeply and openly brings us into the recovery of life, where the anesthesia wears off and we see and feel and taste and touch life for the first time. It is the greatest paradox of life that we can truly come alive only after the arrows of death have pierced our hearts. The things I once took for granted, or passed without notice, are now the most immeasurable of treasures...If we have ears to hear, we discover that the cries of grief are at the same time the birth pangs of faith"

Through my limited experience, I find this to be true. My life has not been as hard as many, but I have grieved many things over the years, and I know it changed me. For better and worse grief makes you alive to things you had never before experienced, and it transforms you. There is a seasoning to a person that has been through a great loss that can not be mimicked. Character comes out of loss, pain and grief. It is absurdly painful, but it is these moments that make us the people we are.

Somehow I walked away from this lecture thankful for the grief I've experienced. This is not to say I am thankful my parents got divorced or that I had experienced broken relationships, but I am thankful for how those experiences have crucially changed me. Through these events I have been matured and given a perspective that can only be learned by experience. I am thankful that there is this much redemption in tragic loss. With time, joy replaces grief, and I think I will only fully understand that when I see Jesus face to face. But I do know I love now more deeply than I did before. I am more focused and balanced. I know myself better. I have a better capacity to care for others. I am more joyful. I can empathize with those who are experiencing great loss. Somehow grieving brought these changes in me, and I am thankful.

More than anything, I am ridiculously thankful for the perspective to be able to say that.


Sunday, February 07, 2010

500 Days of Summer

I saw this movie recently, and for some reason it is sticking with me a long time. I loved it, cinematically, artistically and musically (great soundtrack) but something about it makes me uncomfortable. As I am passively watching it for a second time, I think it's because it is too real. Both of the main characters hit close to my heart, and it makes me want to hide my head in a pillow. I am much more comfortable watching a pointless, fluffy chick flick that I am something that challenges me at the core of my being. Shoot, why can't I just stay shallow?? Oh well.

For those of you who haven't seen it, 500 Days of Summer is a story about boy meets girl, but isn't a love story (I stole that from the opening line, don't tell...). A young romantic man is looking for love to make him happy, answer all his problems, seal his life dreams and make him feel alive (what girl can not identify with these sentiments?). He meets a young independent woman who does not believe in love, but has a vivacious take on life that is both compelling and attractive. As their relationships unfolds, the woman begins to believe in the reality of love (but not with this young man), while the man falls completely and hopelessly in love with this woman. It is not your typical ending, and to the romantic watcher (like me...) it leaves you with a sharp stab from reality. We don't always get what we want. What we hope for is not always what unfolds in reality, but often our view of what we want is limited by what we can see. I am becoming more and more convinced that what we see (and consequently think we want) is just a hint of what we desire. I have had so many friends who, once they met their spouse, said something along the lines of "I didn't even know to hope for this in a person, he/she is so much more that what I thought I wanted." So it seems we are often surprised when love finds us and our expectations are blown out of the water. The man in this movie wants the girl, and though that desire is painfully unfulfilled, better, unseen options are waiting to be found. The girl in this movie (though she is admittedly the one that I was angry with at the end), seems to have the better perspective and is able to say "no" to something that is good but not best. All this left me with the following smattering of unrelated thoughts:

Relationships are hard, especially the ones that don't end well.

Any interaction between two people is almost always interpreted two different (and sometimes opposite) ways.

Through the lens of infatuation our expectations can become completely and totally wacked (there is a great scene in the movie depicting this.)

Love is very real, but often comes from the most unexpected, unforeseen places.

Many people and relationships serve as learning ground as we are on the road to finding love. Without the relationship in this movie, the woman would never have come to believe in love, but through the relationship, the man's heart was demolished. Was it in vain? Not at all. Lessons learned, lives changed and love eventually increased, but not without the pain of loss. We are all integrally involved in one another's growth, development and walk towards love and sometimes we get hurt in the process, but it is not in vain. To say it from another perspective, we are all learning how to love, exploring our horizons of possibilities and gleaning lessons from those around us. Every relationship offers us a new, unique perspective, and we are most benefited when we are willing and open to receive these lessons.