I’m not certain where the obscure title of today’s post comes from (it’s often attributed to Jamie Anderson) but I’ve been pondering it ever since I heard it as a throw away comment in the wonderful Three Pines mystery series. “Grief is love with no place to go“. Profound, isn’t it? I think it is usually accurate. But I also wonder if it can be reframed, so that the love we have within remains life serving – even joyous. Let me try to unpack what I’m thinking…
You’ve probably heard a similar sentiment expressed, that “Grief is the price you pay for loving.” It is often said as the consolation prize at funerals, and at many levels, it is completely true. The grief we experience when faced with the death of someone we love comes because of our haunting sense of loss. We slowly realise that an era is over, and that while there are memories to cherish, there are not new memories to make, or not with the person we have lost. Many people who grieve (probably most), continue to “talk” to the person they have lost – most often as an internal dialogue in their head, but sometimes out loud. I certainly often ask myself “I wonder what mom would say if she was facing this?” As I remind myself of her gentle wisdom, I often tone my response right down (because “kindness is never wrong”)and as people have sometimes thanked me for a generous response, the insight often dawns on me “mom, I think it is you they are actually thanking.”
Sometimes it is more complex. What if grief is the price we pay for loving, but finding it didn’t work out? Oh that can be tough, when our love has not been returned, or perhaps even worse, when the love that once turned towards us, now turns towards another. While some divorces are civil, many are bitter, and almost none are joyous. There is great grief when someone dies, but what if the person is very much alive, but has chosen to walk away? That love then has no where to go, and sometimes morphs into bitterness, cynicism even rage.
If you want to add another layer of complexity, think what happens when unknown to most, the marriage has been breaking down for years, and then he (or she) dies. The guilt, the ambivalence, the muddled emotions – well it’s all very confusing, especially when everyone expects you to speak about your deceased partner as though they were a saint. The line between love and hate can be very fine and deeply confusing. It has left many afraid to ever try to love again. Where does your love go when the last time it set out, it bashed into a brick wall?
Not all endings are the same. Strange as it sounds, we should be grateful when ours is “good grief” – the grief because someone deeply loved is with us no more. For if we have loved well, we have been deeply blessed.
Back to our opening line. “Grief is love with no place to go.” Yes, it does start like that. But love is meant to be outward. It can take years for our eyes to re-open and to see the many places our love can find an address. The heart is a spacious place, and finding room for another when one has gone, does not mean that the one replaces the other. It is possible to have both together without in any way being unfaithful to either the living or the dead. It’s about allowing love to grow.
If you are into Bible trivia, you’ll know the answer to the “what’s the shortest verse in the Bible?” question. It’s John 11:35 “Jesus wept.” The context is so interesting. Jesus wept when he was told that his friend Lazarus had died. Nothing surprising at that – it’s a natural human emotion at the news of a serious loss. True – but Jesus also knew that he was about to bring Lazarus back to life again. The news of his death was no surprise, for in John 11:11 Jesus had announced that he would wake Lazarus from his “sleep”. Verse 25 sees Jesus announce, “I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies.” So why does Jesus weep 10 verses later when invited to see Lazarus’ tomb?
Realistically, while many reasons are given, it is hard to know. You would have thought he would have some suppressed excitement – “everyone is so sad, but just wait till they see what I am about to do. What a party we will all soon be having.” And indeed, a few verses later (v44) Jesus is instructing that the alive again Lazarus has his grave clothes removed.
Of course Jesus is deeply empathetic – and like most empathetic people, catches and mirrors the emotion of those around. It is reassuring how deeply he identifies with our sadness. But he doesn’t stay in the sadness. He moves it towards resurrection hope. His own death is not far off. That too was a mixture of unbelievable grief followed by transformative joy. His disciples, who had loved him well, are prostrated with grief before his resurrection. Their grief was love with no place to go. But post resurrection, that love transformed the world.
There are many reasons why the love inside of us might feel trapped and without an address. But love is a creative and transforming force. It looks outwards. If, for whatever reason, your love feels abandoned and alone, own the pain, acknowledge the loss, but also allow a little spark to burn. Your love might one day morph into something that finds a home, and helps build a more loving, hopeful world.
Nice chatting…
Photo by Ana Bregantin: https://www.pexels.com/photo/1930523/
Please help increase the impact of this blog by reposting or forwarding to others. You are free to reproduce material from the block with acknowledgment of its source.
