Physical Address
304 North Cardinal St.
Dorchester Center, MA 02124
Recently we had a plumber install a new dishwasher in our house. Because he is efficient , he brought a variety of tools with him to complete the job. Without the proper tools for each step of the installation, the work would never get done.
God graciously blesses me with a range of rescue tools that offer comfort throughout my messy, disorganized grief journey. My tool selection depends on what I’m feeling in the moment and the intensity/duration of the ache. I pray that this powerful tool I share here will be a helpful addition to your survival toolbox as you navigate whatever overwhelming circumstances life has brought your way.
Rescue Tool: Fix Your Gaze On Jesus
I have read the story of Jesus walking on water more times than I can count (Matthew 14:22-33). Maybe you have, too. With each reading, my primary focus was the power Jesus possessed in being able to do something incredibly miraculous. I was amazed by His superhuman abilities. The words filled my ears, but I never grasped how the events applied to my life. After all, there was no possible way I would ever walk on water.
And then my son went to Heaven.
One day, during an ugly cry of hopelessness, this classic Bible story popped in my mind. But this time, I wasn’t fascinated by Jesus’ superhuman qualities. This time, I was struck by Peter’s actions and the words Jesus spoke to him.
The instant Dalton left earth, Jesus called me out of the boat just like He did Peter. Not to do something I would label as amazing, inspiring, or ambitious. Instead, He called me out to do something that felt impossible. A calling that is only survivable if I trust Him and hold faith in who He is.
It didn’t take long to see how much I’m like Peter. It’s easy in my grief to gaze at the storm raging around me. That’s what Peter did. He became afraid when he saw the winds swirling as he fearfully moved toward Jesus with doubt. And when his eyes shifted from Jesus to the violent waters, he began to sink.
Sometimes, I sink, too.
Sinking sounds like this in my head. I can’t live without Dalton. Missing him is squeezing the life out of me. There’s no way I can survive this tragedy. How will I ever heal from the traumatic events I endured? Graduation is coming and I’ll never make it through. I have to possibly live for 30-40 years without Dalton. That’s too long! I won’t make it! God, where are you?
When I start sinking, I find it calming to picture Jesus and me standing on the waves. I imagine Him saying these words to me. Lisa, look right here at me. Don’t stare at your dreadful surroundings. I know. They’re terrifying. Life looks unrecognizable, impossible, and
unsurvivable. Do you trust Me? Do you have faith that I am bigger than this storm? I have you. I won’t leave you or let you down. But you must fix your gaze straight ahead. You can do this.
These words calm my anxiousness, doubts, fears, and desires for my nightmare to not be true. Their sharp claws loosen their grip on my heart. Until these same thoughts and feelings buiild up again. And I repeat the process.
I must be honest here. This practice won’t eliminate our sorrows and melt our grief away. It doesn’t change our circumstances. But it allows us to plug into Jesus’ power and strength when we resolve to trust Him.
Notice that Jesus didn’t calm the winds while Peter took one reluctant step after another. Rather, the winds raged until Peter and Jesus climbed back into the safety of the boat. Without Jesus supplying Peter the power and strength to walk on the waves, Peter would sink over and over. That’s how He works in our storms, too.
Envisioning this scene reorients our hearts and minds away from the tragic events that life ushers in and allows us, instead, to gaze at (have trust and faith in) the One who makes it possible to do the impossible. Fixing our eyes on Jesus and the Hope He provides reminds us that God is in control, and we are going to be okay. It enables us to press on (continue walking on the rough waters) even though our heart is shattered.
Grief poses real, painful emotions that demand to be acknowledged and processed in healthy ways. Let me be clear: Individuals must “look” at their circumstances (the howling winds) as they work through their pain toward healing. Difficult emotions can’t be avoided and shoved down. They will present themselves later in uninvited ways. But, danger arises when our entire gaze is fixed solely on our circumstances. When this happens, life appears frightening. Emotions become overwhelming which leads to despair or hopelessness. I know because this happens to me even now, 3 ½ years into my grief. That’s when Jesus invites me to cling to this Bible story as I picture this scene and replay His words.
I wonder if you’re walking through an impossible situation right now. A diagnosis that’s terrifying. A broken marriage that can’t be repaired. A mental health condition that makes every day a struggle. Stress due to hardship after hardship piled on top of you all at once. The reality of a holiday, birthday, or just any day without your precious child or loved one. If you’ve been summoned out of the boat into turbulent waters, I pray this tool will rescue you as it does me.
I never thought I could do something that required superhuman abilities. That was until I lost my son. Jesus called me into unsettled waters. Thankfully, He didn’t shove me and mutter, “Good luck.” He gently said, “Step out. I’ll do this with you.”
