Finding Hope in Grief: Lessons from Jabez
Hey friend,
So many thoughts are swirling in my mind! EMDR therapy certainly brings a lot to the surface. Just like Dr. M said, things can get worse before they get better. I find myself impatiently waiting for the “better” to arrive. I can’t seem to shake the word “neglect.” The logical part of me knows that accepting this “neglect” means I will have to go through the stages of grief. But I can almost hear that infamous bronchitis lady saying, “Ain’t nobody got time for that!” And of course, it’s the remixed version, because I hear it again. “Ain’t nobody got time for that!”
I checked my heel again to make sure it was really gone. It’s safe to say I’m back in shock and denial. She really did that. She really allowed a thorn to remain in my heel because her husband told her to? The man I called Dad suggested that I was just seeking attention and advised her to ignore me when I cried for help. I was only 5 or 6 at the time and naively satisfied with her assurance that she would remove it while I was sleeping, so off I went. And now, 30 plus years later, I finally took it out. Dr. M was right when she said, “I think it will be very therapeutic to do so.” The stages of grief followed quickly after that. There’s a part of my brain that is currently bargaining, questioning whether I remembered things correctly. I bargain with myself—I know I do. “Maybe it was a mole, and I was confused. Perhaps, just maybe, it will grow back. And then maybe I can convince Dr. M that I wasn’t really neglected.” Yet, I know it’s too late for that. There’s no way she would fall for that; she’s far too smart for that and has been doing this for too long. Besides, she’s not trying to protect my mom like I am. Nevertheless, I checked my heel one more time for good measure.
The Bible always seems to come alive in incredible ways. When I dug into Tuesday’s reading, I gasped. I had forgotten all about Jabez! But this time, it felt different. I’ve only ever noticed his prayer, especially the part that says, “So God granted him what he requested” (1 Chronicles 4:10, NKJV). Because, duh, I always want God to grant my requests. I mean, who doesn’t? And please, don’t get self-righteous on me now; I know you do too! (Insert winking smiley face here.) The Hebrew meaning of “Jabez” is “sorrowful” or “he causes pain.” So, you mean to tell me that this woman took it upon herself to let everyone know that he caused her pain? Do you think that hurt Jabez? Could that be the source of his petition? From a place of sorrow and pain? And is that why God granted his request? And can I be honest? In that moment I could relate to the pain that his mother might have caused.
Honestly, I had never considered that Jabez might have been in pain when he prayed that prayer to God. The Bible once again came alive, taking me down a road I had never traveled before. Can you hear it? Can you hear that conversation? “My mom says I’m sorrowful and that I cause pain. She’s been saying it my whole life. Everyone has. And I just don’t want to cause pain anymore.” Compassionate tears streamed down my face. Because in all honesty, no matter how much pain my mom has caused me, I still don’t want to cause her pain. Even though I know at some point soon, I will need to. “So God granted him what he requested” (1 Chronicles 4:10, NKJV). I couldn’t help but smile. Do you think the God of Israel still cares about our pain and sorrow? I bet He does. And that, my friend, is healing to my bones.
So, if you’re navigating through hard things too, know this: we are not alone.
And aren’t the Psalms so fitting? It’s like he’s always on time!
“Give ear to my words, O LORD, Consider my meditation. Give heed to the voice of my cry, My King and my God, For to You I will pray. My voice You shall hear in the morning, O LORD; In the morning I will direct it to You, And I will look up” (Psalm 5:1-3, NKJV).
God will never neglect us, even if those we love have. As I read that petition, I could hear the reassurances—but these reassurances are different. They aren’t the failed promises of man. It’s not my mom saying, “I’ll remove it while you’re sleeping,” only to conviently forget that night, and the next, and the next for the next 30 plus years. No, these reassurances are real. The kind you can take to the bank and cash. “I will direct it to You, and I will look up.” Now that’s conviction; it screams expectation. Because in my world when someone doesn’t keep their promises, you eventually stop looking up.
“I will lift up my eyes to the hills — from whence comes my help? My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth. He will not allow your foot to be moved; He who keeps you will not slumber. Behold, He who keeps Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep. The LORD is your keeper; The LORD is your shade at your right hand. The sun shall not strike you by day, nor the moon by night. The LORD shall preserve you from all evil; He shall preserve your soul. The LORD shall preserve your going out and your coming in from this time forth and even forevermore” (Psalm 121:1-8, NKJV).
There’s so much conviction in this passage, and that conviction reinforced my own. Did that happen to you too?
Pain and healing have collided.
Looking to the hills,
iK
P.S. If you want to follow along with me, below is an affiliate link to the one-year Bible I am using.