I recently read a blogpost that asked the question, “Where do you feel God?”. I sat for a minute and jotted down a few places and ways in which I most often feel God’s presence – sunsets, stars, hiking, music, quiet time spent with him. And then I thought, where do I feel God in my grief? I know that he is there. Right in the middle of it. But it took a little more digging to figure out specific ways in which I have felt God while grieving the loss of my sweet Momma.
I felt his Spirit in the hospital room with my dad and brother as my mom struggled to take her last breath. There was such a deep sorrow shared between the three of us as we held her hands and brushed her hair away from her face. But I also felt a calm stillness that I knew was the presence of my Jesus. I felt a peace in the midst of our sadness.
I have felt God through people. I felt his thoughtfulness in the meals that people brought to our family’s home when we left the hospital. I felt his joy as I watched a video of mom’s friends releasing balloons to celebrate her birthday. I felt his love in the sympathy cards, notes, and encouraging texts sent by family and friends. I continue to feel his love in the hugs and forehead kisses my husband gives me on days when I really miss my mom. I’m so thankful that God uses ordinary people to make his presence known in such tangible ways. He knows how much I need this, and he’s faithful to provide it.
I continue to feel God in prayer and Scripture. Prayer is not easy in grief. Sometimes I’m irrationally angry, and sometimes my prayers are not more than a few words long. But I know that he is close. And I know that he is listening. I can feel his nearness. Psalm 34:18 says, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and he saves the crushed in Spirit.” I cling to this verse because it reminds me of the nearness I feel in prayer. It reminds me that even in the loneliness that grief can bring, God is there, and he’s walking through this alongside of me.
Nothing quite prepares you for this kind of loss. The kind that hurts so deeply it can become all-consuming. I sometimes think about about all the things that my mom won’t get to experience – growing old with my dad, skydiving with my brother, holding and helping to raise her grandchildren – and my heart is broken. But I am thankful that in the middle of my grief, I am able to feel God’s presence in so many ways, and that in his presence I find peace. I am thankful that he comforts me through his Holy Spirit, through his people, and through his word. And I am thankful that my sweet Momma is experiencing his presence in the most real way.