Mere mortal ponderings

Just finished Joan Didion's The Year of Magical Thinking. The material is absolutely heart-breaking. The non-fiction piece investigates the year following the sudden death of her husband, John. Much of the book consists of Didion working things out in her own head. The reader comes to face to face with a very personal grief process. Although the book is focused solely on death, mourning, and how individuals deal with both, her writing is beautiful throughout. The following is perhaps the most poignant and tragic section of exposition in the whole text:

Grief turns out to be a place none of us know until we reach it. We anticipate (we know) that someone close to us could die, but we do not look beyond the few days or weeks that immediately follow such an imagined death. We misconstrue the nature of even those few days or weeks. We might expect if the death is sudden to feel shock. We do not expect this shock to be obliterative, dislocating to both body and mind. We might expect that we will be prostrate, inconsolable, crazy with loss. We do not expect to be literally crazy, cool customers who believe that their husband is about to return and need his shoes....Nor can we know ahead of the fact (and here lies the heart of the difference between grief as we imagine it and grief as it is) the unending absence that follows, the void, the very opposite of meaning, the relentless succession of moments during which we will confront the experience of meaningless itself. (189)

After reading passages such as this, I have no choice but to cling to I Thessalonians 4:13: "But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep."

I don't think our grief is diminished as Christians, but in the midst of loss we're reminded that God has promised eternal salvation and glory for those who love Him. We're more than friends, siblings, daughters, sons, husbands and wives; we're children of the living God. Our hope is in His promises. This world is passing away and so are our fragile bodies. Despite knowing these things and perhaps repeating them for comfort in times of tribulation, we will still encounter pain, loss, the death of loved ones, and eventually our own peronsal unravelings. We are in fact incredibly and undeniably, human. Even C.S. Lewis after the loss of his wife makes it very clear, that as followers of Christ, death can shake our faith tremendously and make us question the very foundations of the world.

Didion mentions Lewis at least twice in her work...

I'm currently in love with the first chapter of Colossians, particularly 1:15-20.