Here Are My Thoughts

Next Wednesday is my 26th birthday.

Next Wednesday is also the one-year anniversary of my grandfather’s passing.

See, one year ago next week, my Pap Pap Richmond passed away on my 25th birthday. I had gone to the gym early in the morning, ready for a good day that would culminate with dinner with friends. I was sitting in my car getting ready to head to the office when my dad called me with the news. I was stunned. That week became a whirlwind (driving 6 hours home the next morning, working out logistics and details, and preparing and preaching the funeral service will do that). It took me a few days to feel anything other than numb, and I’m not exactly sure when it hit me that he was actually gone. Maybe while talking with the funeral director, writing out my message for the service, or seeing his body in the open casket. But whenever it hit, it hit hard.

Sorrow always does. It’s unavoidable. Try as we might to prevent it, to protect ourselves from it, sadness always enters the picture at some point. And with sadness comes pain, pain we really can’t ignore-that’s just the way our fallen world is. And that’s probably why, as we’ve entered the month of June, I’ve found my thoughts drifting toward my Pap Pap, and the fact that he’s no longer with us. It’s probably why I wonder how my grandmother, my mom, or my aunts, uncles, and cousins are doing-how are they dealing with the sadness? So it’s hard to think about something joyful like a birthday (or, in my aunt and uncle’s case, an anniversary) when there’s sorrow to be thought about-it has a way of dominating our headspace.

And that’s why I think it’s important that we fight to find joy alongside the sorrow. 

See, in life and faith, there are moments where joy and sorrow meet. Where, almost simultaneously it feels, we have our greatest highs and our lowest lows. Like my Pap Pap dying on my birthday, sometimes what makes us happy and what makes us sad show up together. And I don’t think we’re supposed to minimize either one in those moments, but instead lean into both. To hold sorrow in one hand, and joy in the other.

Suppressing sadness isn’t the answer, and acting like it’s not there isn’t productive. Trying to drown our sorrows in vices and experiences, to forget about it for a moment in a wave of euphoria, just makes it hit harder when we come down off that high. Pretending like we’re not sad doesn’t make us feel any less sad. We’re not meant to crowd out our sorrow with our joy.

But we’re also not meant to let sorrow rule the day. Like we talked about earlier, sorrow is unavoidable and un-ignorable…but true joy is transcendent. As we acknowledge and leave room for our sadness, we can, in a very healthy way, also remember that there is much to be hopeful about. There are good things in this life. We have received many blessings, here and now. And even better, we know that the best is yet to come, so what lies beyond this life is more joyful than we can imagine. It is good and necessary for us to find the joy that meets the sorrow. That’s where we ultimately find our hope.

If you know me at all, you know that I LOVE the show This Is Us. It is some of the best-written television found anywhere, because it speaks to real life. And there’s a scene in the middle of the most recent episode (Season 4, Episode 18) that speaks to what this post is all about. The awesome and wise Dr. K is speaking with Jack and Rebecca, who are struggling with enjoying their 3 beautiful children while also mourning the loss of a child at birth. Joy and sorrow, meeting. This is what Dr. K says in response to their struggle:

“I think the trick is, not trying to keep the joys and the tragedies apart. You kind of got to let ’em cozy up to one another, you know, let ’em coexist. And I think if you can do that, if you can manage to forge ahead, with all that joy and heartache mixed up together inside of you…well, life does have a way of shaking out to be more beautiful than tragic.”

I think Dr. K hits the nail on the head. The way that we deal with life, and all it brings to us, is not by drowning or crowding out our sorrows, or suppressing or forgetting our joy. We let them “cozy up to one another”, and we hold them in each hand. And we forge ahead.

How am I doing that in this particular situation? I’m allowing myself room to be sad about the fact that my Pap Pap isn’t here anymore. I’m thinking about and praying about my family who I know are feeling similar emotions. I’m leaning into the sorrow.

But I’m also remembering all the qualities he had, all the things that made him special and wonderful. I’m remembering our many moments together, and all our talks about the Eagles (yes, he really did love that team that much). And I’m also reminding myself that though he’s not here, he is in a place that is so much better. A place where he can be and do all that he wants, in the presence of his Savior. I’m leaning into joy.

It just makes sense. I mean, think about it: God brought the greatest joy (the hope of Christ’s resurrection) out of the greatest sorrow (His death on the cross). On Calvary, and in that empty tomb, joy and sorrow met to bring about our hope and peace for eternity. We proceed in this life, and into the life to come, because that is true.

So, keep going. Lean into both the sorrow and the joy. Because, “life does have a way of shaking out to be more beautiful than tragic.”

-Brett