Last time I talked about mourning together with the group.

I also talked about coyotes, but let’s face it, we all know I just made that stuff up. You should never trust stuff you read on the internet, anyway!

Except this post, of course.

So I spoke to my friend this week about her experiences mourning together in community.

The only problem is that she has read some of this blog once and so if I talked about what she said, I would have to tell the truth.

I’ll stick to my own experience.

So last week I was a blathering mess at church.

This was embarrassing, even for me, but the cool thing is that I didn’t have to purposefully stop the flow.

Imagine you’re in a room and the God of the universe (who exists) commands everyone in that room to love you. And they try their best to obey God (in our pathetic, limited, human way).

That’s what church is supposed to be like actually. We can bring whatever emotion is tagging along behind us and we don’t have to hide it. Sometimes we may need to cry and that’s OK. They have to love you!

Sometimes just sensing the presence of God in communal worship is what starts the tears.

And when we finally open our hearts to God and allow one disappointment to surface, don’t you find that a geyser opens up within us sometimes? There is a lot of other stuff that probably should be released as well.

And just letting some of that stuff emerge is actually healing.

That’s the irony. There is an opportunity for healing to occur if we can just stop holding it together for a few minutes, stop sucking in our guts, and stop pretending our real life matches our online persona (I’m not as neurotic and whiny in person as I seem online of course!).

I accidentally caught his eye -the guy at church I don’t know super well. But his look of empathy towards me, of real empathy, even as he tried to hide his gaze, was enough to open up the cracks on some more layers of disappointment that needed to be released.

Keep a sharp eye out for weeds of bitter discontent. A thistle or two gone to seed can ruin a whole garden in no time. The Message

Sometimes what comes out, weaved into the tapestry of stuff that has wounded our hearts over the years is bitterness and disappointment towards God.

He is standing there, ready with a towel to dry off all the tears that are soaking you. He already knows how you feel. He is so happy that you’re finally bringing who you are, and letting him comfort you.

You can rest in his arms now, like a child sitting on their mother’s lap, clinging to her, and receiving comfort somehow.

It’s going to be OK little one, he whispers to your ear.

I’ve got you now.

As you listen quietly to the song below, may you open up your heart to God, and may you find comfort, dear one.