When Grief Feels Like An Endless Journey

This year has been an endless cycle of goodbyes. On February 28, I called my Uncle Benjie to tell him my uncle (his brother-in-law) had suddenly passed away. My aunt had just called me crying, shocked that her husband was gone, and I offered to ease her burden of having to tell many of our family members the news.

I wouldn’t have ever imagined that four months later, almost to that exact day, my mother would call me to break the shocking news that my Uncle Benjie had died.

Three months later, and I still can’t grasp it. My eyes well at the sight of his funeral program on my desk, and I can’t believe I’m the one who designed it. This was Uncle Benjie—my contagious laugh, always singing, first one to pull you into a big hug Uncle Benjie. The one who was at every family gathering, the life of the party, put all your business on Facebook Uncle Benjie.

Photos of my Uncle Benjie and family.

I said it the day we found out he had cancer. I said it as my mother’s pastor prayed over him in the hospital. And as tributes upon tributes flooded Facebook memorializing him: I can’t wrap my  head around this.

I say it even now as I blink back tears, trying to write this blog post: I can’t wrap my head around this.

Have you ever felt the consuming weight of sorrow? The kind that follows you, lurking in photos, memories and last text messages? 

Journeying through grief this summer has taught me two things: death is hard and grief can feel like an endless journey.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-2 says, “To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted.” We all know that death is an inevitable part of life, but when it happens this “knowing” doesn’t make it any easier, especially when it’s sudden.

My uncle was diagnosed with lung cancer in April and passed away in June. Our family didn’t have enough time to process his diagnosis before he died. And his death was one of many around me this year. I know of six people, whether in my family or the family members of loved ones, who have died since January. And not one of these people lived to see age 70.

Witnessing my loved ones say numerous goodbyes this year has weighed heavily on me. I have echoed David’s cry, “How long, O Lord?” Because navigating grief can feel like a tricky, endless journey. Just when you think it’s gone, it reminds you it’s still lurking, its heaviness an unwanted companion. It’s there as you sort through your loved one’s belongings, the day you receive their death certificate, and every time you replay a voicemail. And the wound rips open on the first holidays and birthdays without them.

Grief’s waves can feel overwhelming, to the point that you wonder why God would allow us to feel such immense pain. Yet, experiencing profound grief has helped me better understand the victory and meaning of Jesus’ triumph over death. 

Isaiah 25:8 proclaimed that Jesus would “swallow up death forever.” And after dying on the cross and being raised from the dead, Christ did just that. Although we will all experience the pain that comes with death and loss, thankfully that pain isn’t the end. We can put our hope in eternity with Christ, knowing that because of his love and sacrifice, one day we will never again know death, sorrow, crying or pain. 

It can be hard to imagine true comfort as we experience life’s hardships though. I’m still overwhelmed each time I think about how much I miss my uncle. But, if you’re also navigating through grief right now, please be encouraged. One day, Christ will take us on a new journey of joy and peace—a journey we’ll never want to end.