Picking Up the Tattered Pieces: Recovering from Grief & Loss
James 4:8-9
Come near to God and he will come near to you. Wash your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded. Grieve, mourn and wail. Change your laughter to mourning and your joy to gloom. Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up.
This week has been difficult. I wasn't jiving with the lesson I prepared for the high school and college students. Most of the junior high students were disrespectful towards each other the whole time at youth group. My heart has been heavy and conflicted because of the contentious appoint of Judge Brett Kavanaugh to the SCOTUS.
As I was pondering these events and exploring my feelings/thoughts last night, I realized the root of my current state of being is due to one thing: GRIEF.
Grief over what exactly? My life has been going great for the most part! No more school, new job, new students, new opportunities...life couldn't be any better. As I delved into my brain though, one thing has been weighing on me this whole week. Today at my former church--the church I once called home and still think is home--the students are taking over all three live services, fearlessly led by one of my now very good friends and brothers. As the feelings of excitement arose because the youth would finally be seen and heard by the rest of the congregation, feelings of pain and hurt also surfaced. These now student leaders are kids I invested several years into, pouring time and energy into ministry for them while balancing other jobs and going back to school. I developed spiritual and emotional connections with these students--the type of connection a youth pastor prays to build with their students.
Due to circumstances outside of my control though, the dream ended. I told people I was ready for the new change and transition, but honestly my heart grieved the loss of not working with students anymore. I hated not being able to interact with them on a weekly basis anymore. I was reminded of the relationships I didn't get to develop and things I didn't accomplish. As stressful as it was, I missed being up front and teaching them about God's word and how it connected to our daily lives. I missed being a ministry leader and pastor to students. When I took the job at my new church, I took all of this baggage with me. Slowly, my heart is beginning to heal as I develop relationships with my new students and build new connections with people in the congregation. I realized last night though that my heart is still tattered and fragmented. Parts of my heart still wishes I was in ministry with my former students, that I could witness and be a part of this new season of thriving for the youth at my former church. Parts of my heart still grieve that I don't get to do life with them in the same way anymore.
As I sit in this grief though, I remember words that my friend--their new pastor--said to me the last time we met together. He told me that the ministry, the volunteers, and the students wouldn't be where they are at right now without the time and energy I invested for three and a half years. In essence, my ceiling became his floor. Sweet words of affirmation and comfort. As I sit in this grief, I also feel God's embrace and hear him whispering softly to me, "Continue to love. Continue to dream." Towards the end of my time at my former church, I had given up on dreaming and loving because it was too difficult and too painful. Loving and dreaming is difficult and painful though because it involves working other humans! Yes, sometimes it's easy and goes smoothly. We as humans are so complex in personality, ideology, culture, and spirituality though that we are going to clash at times. That's the beauty and pitfall of church ministry.
So God, I sit here with the tattered pieces of my heart, ready to move forward with what you have for me. Please provide me the space to grieve my losses when necessary, but always remind me that there is hope. May my relationships with former students continue to grow in way you desire them to, but may my focus be on the future and students you have currently provided me. May you give me dreams and a vision that honors you, honors the students, honors the community, and further expands your kingdom.
Come near to God and he will come near to you. Wash your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded. Grieve, mourn and wail. Change your laughter to mourning and your joy to gloom. Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up.
This week has been difficult. I wasn't jiving with the lesson I prepared for the high school and college students. Most of the junior high students were disrespectful towards each other the whole time at youth group. My heart has been heavy and conflicted because of the contentious appoint of Judge Brett Kavanaugh to the SCOTUS.
As I was pondering these events and exploring my feelings/thoughts last night, I realized the root of my current state of being is due to one thing: GRIEF.
Grief over what exactly? My life has been going great for the most part! No more school, new job, new students, new opportunities...life couldn't be any better. As I delved into my brain though, one thing has been weighing on me this whole week. Today at my former church--the church I once called home and still think is home--the students are taking over all three live services, fearlessly led by one of my now very good friends and brothers. As the feelings of excitement arose because the youth would finally be seen and heard by the rest of the congregation, feelings of pain and hurt also surfaced. These now student leaders are kids I invested several years into, pouring time and energy into ministry for them while balancing other jobs and going back to school. I developed spiritual and emotional connections with these students--the type of connection a youth pastor prays to build with their students.
Due to circumstances outside of my control though, the dream ended. I told people I was ready for the new change and transition, but honestly my heart grieved the loss of not working with students anymore. I hated not being able to interact with them on a weekly basis anymore. I was reminded of the relationships I didn't get to develop and things I didn't accomplish. As stressful as it was, I missed being up front and teaching them about God's word and how it connected to our daily lives. I missed being a ministry leader and pastor to students. When I took the job at my new church, I took all of this baggage with me. Slowly, my heart is beginning to heal as I develop relationships with my new students and build new connections with people in the congregation. I realized last night though that my heart is still tattered and fragmented. Parts of my heart still wishes I was in ministry with my former students, that I could witness and be a part of this new season of thriving for the youth at my former church. Parts of my heart still grieve that I don't get to do life with them in the same way anymore.
As I sit in this grief though, I remember words that my friend--their new pastor--said to me the last time we met together. He told me that the ministry, the volunteers, and the students wouldn't be where they are at right now without the time and energy I invested for three and a half years. In essence, my ceiling became his floor. Sweet words of affirmation and comfort. As I sit in this grief, I also feel God's embrace and hear him whispering softly to me, "Continue to love. Continue to dream." Towards the end of my time at my former church, I had given up on dreaming and loving because it was too difficult and too painful. Loving and dreaming is difficult and painful though because it involves working other humans! Yes, sometimes it's easy and goes smoothly. We as humans are so complex in personality, ideology, culture, and spirituality though that we are going to clash at times. That's the beauty and pitfall of church ministry.
So God, I sit here with the tattered pieces of my heart, ready to move forward with what you have for me. Please provide me the space to grieve my losses when necessary, but always remind me that there is hope. May my relationships with former students continue to grow in way you desire them to, but may my focus be on the future and students you have currently provided me. May you give me dreams and a vision that honors you, honors the students, honors the community, and further expands your kingdom.
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