In the weeks after a funeral, it all feels a bit surreal. You have done the paperwork, and made the arrangements. You have said goodbye, and given thanks for the person’s life. You have shared stories and memories.

But then comes the next bit, when people say you are ‘getting back to normal’. You go through some of the familiar routines- outwardly it seems the same. But there are gapping holes and jagged edges- you go to phone the person, but they are not there. You see something you know they would have been interested in, and make a mental note to share it, but there is no opportunity.

My mum passed away over a month ago, and I didn’t want her to suffer, and so her passing was the better option. I give thanks for her, as she was a wonderful mum to me, and an amazing gran to my son. But life will never be the same again.

So many people walk around with invisible wounds. Grief is so raw, but there is no outward mark. You walk around, and people look normal, but everything feels upside down. You have to relearn how to live, how to spend that now empty part of your day.

We all know that in time, new rhythms of life will emerge. Memories now tinged with sadness will be retrieved with less pain. More positive reminiscences re- emerge. A balance will come back.

God holds is in our grief and tears, as we mourn and process our losses. At times we start the day strong, but an unexpected phonecall or letter brings a fresh wave of anguish. It can feel as if we experience the loss anew.

‘ Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted’ Matthew 5:4

God so often shows us evidences of grace even we are at our lowest ebb- a prayer spoken, a message of support, fresh flowers, an unexpected kindness, a rainbow in the sky. Grief cannot be rushed, we have to take each heavy step, but there are flowers in the verges, and we are given the strength we need.

I think we also need to learn to be kind to ourselves, to forgive, to say no when we need to, and to know that just sitting staring into space, can be just fine. Being patient with ourselves, gives us space to lament, and then to heal.

Gracious God, grieving can be so exhausting. We can be sad about many things. But we are not alone. Lord Jesus, You walk with us, and when we are downcast, You lift our heads, when we are burdened, You carry what is heavy for us. Thankyou that even in surreal days of uncertainty and pain, You send your holy spirit, and You bring us solace and remind us that hope is not gone. Teach us to show unreserved kindness to all who are silently nursing painful wounds, and to extend that kindness even to ourselves. In Jesus’ name, Amen