When Grief Overwhelms

When I was picking up prescriptions the other day (without my boys, thank goodness), a women approached the pharmacist and tech, telling them she knew she hadn't seen them in a while, but just wanted to say a quick hello.

Both the pharmacist and tech turned white as bleached sheets, and looked as though they'd seen a ghost.  The pharmacist stammered for a moment, whispering, "Oh my goodness, we thought you'd died....."

The woman broke into a huge smile and began her story.  

Four years ago, this woman's doctors had given her less than 6 months to live.  They stopped all treatments, put her in hospice care, and the cancer continued to spread throughout her body.  Before the six months were up, the cancer miraculously stopped, and she, "... danced (her) way out of hospice care without a trace of cancer in (her) body and not a single cancer drug beating it!"

I could tell she has not squandered a moment of these past four years.  I could tell she knows to whom she owes this miracle to.  I could just feel the immense joy and gratitude rolling off her.  She is healed by the grace of God, and it is a beautiful, incredible, amazing thing.

My lips were trembling. My hands were shaking. I was sweating. My stomach was queasy. The tears were pushing their way out of my eyes.  I was silently willing my sweet pharmacy tech to please just hurry up and finish ringing me through so I could get out of there and get to my car before I completely broke down.  

Noticing my distress, she asked if I was okay.  "Oh! Mmm hmmm," I shook my head vigorously up and down, trying to look as upbeat as possible, responding with what I hoped looked like eagerness, as much as my body and emotions would possibly allow.

Once the tech handed the prescriptions to me, I nearly ran from the store to my car, where I broke down in sobs.  

I rejoiced for this woman and her family--oddly enough, many of my tears were from gratitude and absolute joy for her healing and this second chance she'd been given.  Oh my gosh, can you even imagine?  Just the sheer beauty of it!  How amazing, oh Abba, we praise You!  I could not contain myself and I just overflowed from the emotions I was feeling related to her healing.  

And on the other hand... 

I cannot contain my sadness.  At times, it feels unending. I am just so incredibly sad. And it just hurts.

But I wasn't angry with God as I cried.  I wasn't trying to rationalize anything, or argue with God or wonder why this woman got to live while my friend died.  

I was just--once again--overwhelmed with what feels like selfish sadness.

I just want my friend back.  

It's something I continue to struggle with.  Sadness.  Selfishness.  

Do I want Angie back?  Yes, I would give anything to hug her again, to hear her tell me she's not going anywhere, to just hang on to her as tight as I possibly can and not let go.   

But would I actually take her away from what she's experiencing right now?  Absolutely not.  That is the most selfish thing I could ever possibly do to a friend.      

I wrestle with my emotions so much.  I wrestle with what I know to be true.  I wrestle with the promises given to me by Abba.

I'm tired.  I'm worn.  I'm weary.

And I am just. so. sad.