He’s baAAAaack!

Grief. What a tricky little fellow. It’s easy to assume he visits cloaked in the form of death or something ominous like that. Yet, the reality is he most often appears in much more subtle forms. For me, grief has recently emerged in the wake of my altered dreams, perceived life change, and another round of good-byes.

And do you know the kicker? Grief rears his head at the strangest times. Without warning, I suddenly feel like I morph into another person. The eternal optimist is unable to smile. A fiery temper emerges, ready to strike fear and trembling in anybody who interferes with my agenda. Miss Happy-go-lucky is ready to cry at…well…you name it. I strap myself onto the roller coaster of unexplained emotions and try to figure out how in the world I got on this ride.

Then it dawns on me; grief has returned. An emergency Jesus session is required, including my journal and a pen. What is it? What is being grieved? Let’s face it. Let’s talk about it. Let’s pray about it. Let’s cry about it. So I do.

This week “Blissfully Happy Robyn” was overtaken by “She May Kill You Robyn”, followed by “Blubbering Robyn”.  Grief had unexpectantly arrived at my front door.  I grieved all the changes at our language school as several sets of friends prepare to leave. Another round of good-byes awaits me. I grieved the sad realization that I am now a part of a transient lifestyle, with friendships continually changing, fading, gone. With my own plane tickets bought, I also began to grieve the loss of stability…again.

Ugh. All worthy of tears. All needing to be laid at the feet of my Savior who promises to supply all I ever need. That knowledge is how I move forward.

But grief, there is no escaping him. He must be reckoned with. He will come back until I’m healed. Ah, the beauty behind grief…healing. Thank you, Lord. You know what I need.