Grief -- is there any hope?
RSJsdaughter
Shipmate Posts: 1
in Epiphanies
Hi all.
I grew up vaguely ECUSA and have always had an intellectual and aesthetic attraction to Christianity, but have also always found it very difficult to believe in God. There really seems no reason to, and every reason not to. It's a nice story, but as far as I have been able to find out there is absolutely zero evidence that it is anything more than that, and a whole lot of evidence to suggest that it is not anything more than that.
Up until very recently, all of this was comfortably academic for me. Then my mother died. She died too young, of something preventable: a cardiac arrhythmia that went undetected. She was my best friend and my only family member. And we had a difficult relationship at times, and while we were on somewhat better terms when she died, she died suddenly and unexpectedly, so that I never even had the chance to apologise for all the things I needed to apologise for.
In my profound grief I find myself desperate for some assurance that her consciousness was not entirely obliterated with the cessation of her brain activity, that in some way she continues, and continues to love me, and continues to be aware of my love.
But how can I believe that?
If you believe that, why?
I grew up vaguely ECUSA and have always had an intellectual and aesthetic attraction to Christianity, but have also always found it very difficult to believe in God. There really seems no reason to, and every reason not to. It's a nice story, but as far as I have been able to find out there is absolutely zero evidence that it is anything more than that, and a whole lot of evidence to suggest that it is not anything more than that.
Up until very recently, all of this was comfortably academic for me. Then my mother died. She died too young, of something preventable: a cardiac arrhythmia that went undetected. She was my best friend and my only family member. And we had a difficult relationship at times, and while we were on somewhat better terms when she died, she died suddenly and unexpectedly, so that I never even had the chance to apologise for all the things I needed to apologise for.
In my profound grief I find myself desperate for some assurance that her consciousness was not entirely obliterated with the cessation of her brain activity, that in some way she continues, and continues to love me, and continues to be aware of my love.
But how can I believe that?
If you believe that, why?
Comments
I am so sorry for your loss. Grief is different for everyone and yet the same. The chasm left by a person is just huge and all-consuming. As HM The Queen said* "Grief is the price we pay for love."
In that truth, there is something important about the value of the people we've lost.
I do believe in God and hope and there's a lot of reasons for that.
I also struggle with doubt.
I am sure we can explore all this in in this thread but also you are hurting. And I'm so sorry that it feels this way.
AFZ
*in response to 9/11. Whichever speech writer came up with that line was a genius. This simple phrase is at the heart of what it means to be human.
So sorry for your loss. But welcome to the boards.
I visited my wife's grave this afternoon on my way back from an appointment.
I didn't have any flowers but will take some another time soon.
But I did say some prayers and, as is my custom, told her a few things about how our daughters are getting on and what's happening with me.
I don't know how to explain 'why' I do that except that it seems to flow naturally from the love we had when she was alive.
I can offer now other explanation than that.
Yes, I can cite Bible verses and doctrinal positions and this, that and the other but ultimately love is the only explanation I can offer.
I hope you will too.
At the very least, you remember her. That's something.
One thing I think that has helped in the whole "being religious" thing is the humble acceptance that my subjective reality matters, and in fact it matters a lot. There are many things you will never be able to objectively prove. It may be appropriate to keep them in some kind of shrine, cognitively or even physically, but I don't think that makes them less real.
And this going to get harder, so maybe sit down and take this lightly if you can...
I credit Bonhoeffer with teaching me that there are no unmediated relationships in Christ. God is always before, behind, and in the midst of our relationships. My sins against other people are in that sense also sins against God, and at some point God can handle this.
Certainly, if one can reconcile one's self to other people while they're still around, that's better. But one cannot always do that, for various reasons. I have my own history with that particular problem and I've learned to carry these little thorns in my side and hope that God can heal what is - far as I can tell - out of my hands. If I were to refuse God, then I suppose it's only my own ego at stake and in that case, I find the best approach is just to let it drop because, very seriously, I'm just not that important to myself.
I don't know if any of that helps. Grief is hard, and I know that unprocessed parental stuff is especially hard. And it is grotesquely unfair when people die before you're ready to let them go like that. My condolences, for what they're worth.
Let me start by saying I am so sorry for your loss, and may you be comforted.
I should also say that I am certain your mother is still in existence, because I'm an orthodox Christian and that's what Christianity tells us. So I do think she continues.
Now the difficulty about your situation is that it is both an opportunity and a frustration. It's an opportunity because as I've seen over 40 years of caring for people, times of crisis and grief can lead people to re-evaluate what they believe and perhaps become open to God in ways they weren't before.
It's a frustration because the specific thing you want most right now is assurance of what has happened to your mother; and as other people have noticed before me, when we come to Christianity, or to God, because we want to use him for some specific reason like this one, we usually don't get what we want. Because God is not a means to an end, however noble it may be; and trying to use him that way usually falls flat. It's an emotional problem, I think. If I try to use him that way, it doesn't work, because I'm always aware in the back of my mind that that's exactly what I'm doing--trying to manufacture evidence--and I can't make myself believe what I've conjured up. And so the whole effort falls apart.
So here's what I'd suggest instead.
Go find yourself a quiet, private room and talk to the God you don't really quite believe in. Be entirely honest with him. Say something like what you've said to us: "I have never found any real evidence for you, and I can't make myself believe now, and I'm not going to try. But I'm talking to you anyway."
And then go on and tell him how you feel about your mother, and your fears for her, and your love for her, and how much you wish you knew what her state is. Pour it all out to this God you don't really believe in. You're in private, so no problem. Say everything and anything, however silly it may sound. Just whatever you do, tell the truth. Don't try to con him by telling him you believe when you don't. Tell the whole thing straight and pour it all out.
And then wait and see what happens.
My experience of God is that he honors those who speak honestly, and you may find yourself with an unexpected result--a positive result. Because you're putting yourself in a place where he can act if he chooses to. And you're not muddying the waters by pretending to a faith you don't have, or by trying to bargain, or anything off like that.
Just try talking.