grief – Page 3 – Sarah Guldalian

You Are More

How do you determine who you are?
Is it based on what you do?
Is it best on how you feel?
Is it based on where you came from?
How you make your living?
Who your friends are?
Where you grew up?
Your professional title?
Your past?
Your physical attributes or abilities?
Your strength and determination?
Is it based on what others think about you?
Is it based on what they think about your kids?
On your relationship with family?
What high school you went to?
What zip code you grew up in?
The brands you wear?
How do you determine who you are?

I have lost jobs and gained them.
I have gained clients and lost them.
I have lost weight and gained it.
I have gained strength and lost it.
I have lost popularity and gained it.
I have moved from anger to love and love to anger.
I have lost family and gained family.
I have lost friends and made them.

I have never lost Jesus.
When all else wained, He never did.
He has always remained the same.
He is the most consistent aspect of life.
He is all eternal. His love is forever.

The most defining and consistent identity marker for me is this: I am a child of God.

Praise be to God who never changes.

“Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning” (James 1:17).

Great is Thy Faithfulness.

The Christmas Blues: From Joy to Grief & Back Again

As parents – and women, especially – we are natural nurturers. It is how God wired us. This is what motivates us to feed our children, to protect them, keep them safe, healthy, and warm. It also places us smack-dab in the middle of Christmas planning, and dreaming, and shopping, cooking, cleaning, inviting, and… hurting.

Our nurturing spirits say, “Let’s come together. Let’s be together. Is everyone good?” And this is where Christmas, the holidays, can hurt… Because not everything is good. Some are even missing from the table entirely.

Our minds seem to wander back to our childhood, and then the decades between – imagining Christmas trees, and Christmas meals, laughter — even arguments. Our memories are sweet, and they are difficult. As we experience conflicting emotions, it is easy to become perplexed and fatigued.

Our Christmas memories can be good… I see my grandpa’s face, and my grandparents flirting in the kitchen… My grandma hustling and bustling about on Christmas Eve, with matching gifts and stockings for the grandkids, full of popcorn balls, McDonald’s “money”, and real money she ironed before inserting into cards. And I remember Christmas Day at noon when my best friend and I, who lived around the corner, would joyfully swap gift lists over the telephone (with the curly cord), excited because we shared everything. Joyful memories.

Christmas memories can be beautiful, and they can be disappointing. I remember the difficult times in my household, when my parents struggled, and so we all did. As I think back on Christmases of the past, I see people there who I won’t see again this side of heaven, either because they are already there, or because of brokenness within family. And it can hurt, because things have changed.

Maybe you know what I mean. Maybe you see faces there too. Maybe you have lost someone, who has passed on, or miss someone you are now living separately from. Maybe you are grieving the loss of a dream or vision you once had of a spouse or having a child, and it hurts.

And so, this joyful time – adorned with greens & reds, gold & silver, gifts, treats, parties, and the joy of creating memories for our littles – they excite our heads and hearts. And yet, we feel the tension, maybe even manic in moments, at the pain and the joy at play at once.

But here, under the pressure, in the merry-go-round of ups and downs, between joy and grief, we can stop. We can lift our faces to heaven. We can open our arms and our chest to the sky, and we can cry out to God, in surrender, for His help. And, He is there. He is here. He is the center.

Jesus is the center. HE is the real thing. HE is the reason. Amidst the emotional chaos, all things can fall away, fall off. And we can focus on the one thing this season is about, who this life is about – the reason for this season, the reason we are here – Jesus. And He is with us: Immanuel, God with us. Always.As you stop and process, pray and laugh, and even hurt, here is truth we can cling to:

When all of the things have changed, Jesus has not. He never changes.

“Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.” (Hebrews 13:8)
And He never leaves us – not ever. He has always been. He will always be.

“The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.” (Deuteronomy 31:8)

When we feel alone in our memories, we can know: We are not alone now, and we were notalone then… I was not alone. My parents were not alone in the pressure. And you were not alone in that moment… in that very moment, because God transcends time. As He is with you now, He was with you then.

“Jesus said to them, ‘Truly, truly, I say to you, before Abraham was, I am.’” (John 8:58)

And so, as we prepare for Christmas – in this day, in this moment, throughout the week – we can have hope, because He is with us, Immanuel. He was with us then. He never changes. He never leaves. And He never will.

So, we can surrender all to Him – All that overwhelms: The past – the things, the people, the relationships lost… Even the present – the expectations, the successes, our failures…We can surrender them all, and fix our eyes on Him – on the baby in the manger, who surrendered His throne to be born in wood from a barn, in a body confined. He came to release us from the pieces, and the confinements of our minds and our lives. He came that we would be free, free from emotional and spiritual pain, free from the curse of death.

And we can even feel peace when our minds wander backwards, knowing He was with us then, as well. We were in His care then; we are now; and we forevermore will be, when we place our trust in Him.

“I pray that God, the source of hope, will fill you completely with joy and peace because you trust in him. Then you will overflow with confident hope through the power of the Holy Spirit.” (Romans 15:13)

Jim Jordan

This week feels hard: It’s been 10 years since my Grandpa Jim went to heaven, 10 years since I last spoke with him here on earth. He was my best buddy and my advocate, my stability in what otherwise felt chaotic. He was loyal and strong, funny and kind. I always knew I was safe near him, and he was always a phone call and seven-minute-drive away.

He drove me to and picked me up from private school, golf practice, swim practice, and soccer practice, and gave me snack money that always looked ironed. And, oh, how he was patient. He would patiently wait in his car as long as it took for me to chat it up and say my goodbyes to all my friends. And he was always happy to see me, even if he’d been sitting in his car waiting for an hour. Patience described him. He was slow and steady but strong and athletic.

He always made himself available and patiently sat by to support me however I needed it: He came over to help me clean my room or change my oil. He tutored me in math from Cs to A+s. He was an amazing golfer and coached me, no matter my lack of progress.

He and my grandma were a precious and hilarious duo. He was the calm to her spunk. He told slightly off-colored jokes to get a rise out of her, and she never disappointed with her high-pitched, “Jim!” His jack-o-lantern smile at her response was glorious. He pushed her buttons in ways that entertained them both and all of us.

I admired their love and loyalty greatly. They had a partnership revolving around “mutual respect,” as my grandma would describe it, and matchless love.

They supported their daughters and grandkids with an intuitive and exciting love. Something was always planned and everything was a celebration. They didn’t think twice letting me live with them for a couple years when my dad’s job moved him to Milwaukee. And I had a blast watching my grandpa sneak Hershey bars out of the pantry out to the garage when my grandma wasn’t looking.

My grandpa was deeply compassionate. I had a tough go of it, especially in 5th through 7th grades, with issues at home and a back brace that attracted negative attention wherever I went. He always stood up for me against bullying, even against taunting siblings and cousins.

He told me he ate coffee ground sandwiches as a kid and lived in the back of a post office when his dad died, leaving his mom with four growing boys. He stood in the relief line waiting for bread while school kids mocked him. His empathy meant he always found the unlikely friend in a crowd. He would sit down beside them, no matter the economics or ethnicity. He was the common man and wanted everyone to feel seen and peaceful.

Though he grew up poor, he went on to serve in the navy, play football as a Razorback, and with the Detroit Lions practice squad. He became a respected engineer, building the largest furnace in that time. He was a devoted church elder and engaged member of their community.

He gave us all a good life, but he always said, “Don’t love something that can’t love you back.” He taught me so many short, memorable phrases about honoring God, people, and yourself, and lots of hilarious jokes. He wanted me to remember how much he loved me.

I got him for 30 years. The last thing he said to me before he went on to heaven was, “I love you more than your husband,” and chuckled. He just wanted to make sure he always held a piece of my heart when he moved on so I remembered I was always loved and never alone. I married someone just like him and have a marriage similar to my grandparents. Oh, how blessed I am for my Grandpa Jim.

I miss you, Pops. I’ll see you forever one day. Love, “Sissy”

On being reunited with loved ones…

“Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. According to the Lord’s word, we tell you that we who are still alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will certainly not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever” (1 Thessalonians 4:13-17).