Category: Health

Incomplete Grief: Part II

HAS ANYONE ever said to you that you don’t seem as though you’ve finished grieving yet? Have you ever felt that way years after a loss?

Perhaps what they really mean to say is that you’re experiencing incomplete grief.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What is the real goal of grieving?

Many of us think the goal of grieving is to experience deep, painful emotions and finally arrive at the point where they aren’t as noticeable or don’t bother us as much as they did when the loss was fresh. A point where we feel as though we can get back to some kind of normal life.

But is that really the point of grieving?

It is. And it isn’t.

 

The point and task of grieving are to first grieve, feel all those emotions, and then complete the relationship with all the unfinished emotions you had when the relationship ended or the loss occurred.

You can think of it as unfinished business that niggles your brain and causes frustration or regret.

While grieving occurs automatically, completing the grief—or grief completion—results from specific actions you take to make that happen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Well-meaning but bad grief advice—

You’ve probably heard someone say, “It’s best not to dwell on the past.” Or “Better let bygones be bygones.”

They sound like good practices, but in the long run they can be dangerous.

Why?

Because the human mind functions in a very different and specific way than the human heart. And vice versa.

The human mind tends to hang onto and replay what ifs—what could or should have been different, better or more. And those different, better and more thoughts can devour us emotionally, year after year after year.

It’s natural for us to do this. And where grief is concerned, it’s better to go along with that persistent brain, answer those questions, and take some steps to complete the thought and the revelations that come with it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Incomplete grief can be about good things too—

As the experts at The Grief Recovery Institute note:

“Incomplete grief exists when there are any undelivered communications of an emotional nature.”

With that definition, you can easily see how incomplete grief can come from both good and bad events. They can be positive or negative.

For example: Let’s say you received a gift from a special friend and written and mailed a thank you note. But the morning after mailing the card, you learn your friend has died of a stroke. Besides the pain of losing a good friend, what feelings would you have about the loss?

One thought probably replaying over and over in your mind is that you wish your friend had known just how much you appreciated her gift. And now she’ll never know. Something has been left unfinished. And it hurts.

What if the last thing your spouse heard before driving off to work and getting killed in an auto accident was your snippy comment about something he did that morning that irked you? You would likely chastise yourself repeatedly over your unloving last words. Replay what you should have said to him; wish you could have apologized.

As Grief Recovery Institute experts point out:

“As a generality, undelivered emotional communications are going to be about things that we wish we had said or done, or about things we wish we had not said or done.”

 

And they’re also about something else, like the things we wish the other person had said or done, or not said or done.

 

But they can be about good things too. And it’s important to replay those.

Consider the happy scenario, where you share a kiss and a long hug with your spouse before you both depart for work. Later that day you learn he’s been killed in a freak work accident. Along with your heartache, you replay in your mind your last embrace, your loving goodbye, his joyful wave to you as he drives down the driveway. Those thoughts make you smile and bring gladness to your broken heart.

The reality of life is that we never know when our last encounters with someone will occur, and it’s more than likely that every loss brings with it unfinished details—words you wanted or planned to say, discussions you wanted to have, plans you were in the midst of making. Not procrastination but planned for events and get-togethers.

These types of things can leave you with a feeling of incompleteness in a relationship loss.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When others hinder your grief completion journey—

You may experience incomplete grieving when others cause or exaggerate your incompleteness.

Ever know someone who won’t allow you to express meaningful things to them? Your communication with them remains shallow or frustrating. We can’t force anyone to listen to us, and their refusal to hear or listen can leave us with incomplete feelings about them and the relationship.

Sometimes we’re fearful of being honest and saying things we know are emotionally loaded. We fear another person’s reaction, or their misunderstanding of your intentions.

We want to wait for the right time, but it never comes. And death ends the possibility of it ever coming.

We lose our nerve and never say what we need to say to the other person.

These events can leave us with incomplete emotions.

 

I can give you a personal example in my life that I still find frustrating. An event that left me with incomplete emotions.

For a reason I don’t understand, someone I considered a precious friend and loved like a sister decided “the season of our friendship had come to an end.”

That’s how she put it in the email she sent me. Not in person. Not in a phone call. She wouldn’t talk to me about why, explain her reasons, or tell me what I might have done to hurt her to cause that decision. I even asked her so I could apologize for how I might have hurt her.

She did tell me that we hadn’t communicated that much since she moved across the country, so I did get an inkling that she felt that, to remain good friends, I didn’t meet her frequent communication expectations.

It’s been a year since that happened, and I still experience incomplete grieving over it. My heart still cries about it. I miss her. But I feel as though she tied my hands and made my grieving difficult. I don’t think she acted loving or fair toward me.

And that makes me angry.

I feel as though her actions robbed me of the opportunity to be complete.

But her actions do not need to become the final say in this friendship ending. I need to heal, completely. So I’m going through the actions I need to take to complete that grieving, the actions I’m going to teach you in this incomplete grieving series. Actions I’ve taken before that helped me complete the grieving process and close open, festering wounds that took their toll on not only my mind but my body.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Goal of complete grieving—

Your goal is to discover those undelivered emotional communications occurring in both minor and major life events.

It’s the uncovering of all the undelivered communications, both large and small, that have emotional consequences for you. And it’s likely there is a heap of these undelivered communications that need unearthing and examination.

 

Where my former friend is concerned, I’m going to be exploring all of the unfinished communications and feelings I had when the relationship ended. I’m going to detail how the way she ended it makes me feel.

In the process I’m going to take into account the numerous overwhelming burdens in her life: the recent and unexpected death of a loved one; the illness of a beloved relative; the serious accident she incurred a year earlier that seemed to leave her mentally foggy and fearful of life.

In this specific instance, it’s a combination of juggling truth with love and mercy.

And in the process, I can’t tell myself I shouldn’t feel the way I feel. I already feel a certain way, have experienced certain feelings. Telling myself I shouldn’t feel them isn’t going to make them go away. Examining them, figuring out what to do with them, and then doing it will ease the burden and complete my grief.

 

And that’s the end goal.

 

Invitation—

Can you identify any relationships that ended by separation or death that still feel incomplete? If so, start jotting down those happy, sad, or unfinished events you wanted to continue, wanted to fix, or wanted to finish. You’ll use those in a future post to be able to complete your grieving.

 

NEXT WEEK we’ll dig deeper into incomplete grieving: how holding onto feelings may be stifling the grief completion process, and learning to express the feelings that will help us heal.

Until then, don’t be afraid to feel those feelings, and don’t let anyone tell you that you shouldn’t have them.

Blessings,

Andrea

Andrea Arthur Owan, M.S., A.T., R., is a fitness pro, award-winning inspirational writer and senior-ordained chaplain. She works and writes to help people recover from trauma, grief and loss and to live their best lives — physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

Incomplete Grief: An Introduction

A LOT of people ask how long grief will last, when will it finally be over.

When will the pain end?

How we answer those questions depends upon how we approach grief and the recovery process caused by the grieving experience. The recovery process should lead to completion of grief.

How we handle the fallout of loss and the accompanying pain is what’s important.

Because if we don’t handle the loss well, it can lead to incomplete grief.

And that’s the important subject we’ll be exploring for the next few weeks.

 

What’s really behind all that grief pain?

When you’re deep into grief, unspeakable pain is your constant companion. No matter what you do, it seldom lets up. You just know the pain is never going to go away; you’re going to have to live with this the rest of your life.

If someone tries to tell you things will eventually get better, you don’t see how that’s possible. You don’t believe them. And you may be angered that they even made the comment.

It’s true, though. Things do and will get better—if you can identify the sources of emotional energy contributing to all that pain.

 

While there are some deaths—like grandparents, friends, and even siblings—that we can rebound better and more quickly from, other deaths leave us paralyzed and stuck.

The key is asking the right questions to identify what’s causing the emotions and then providing answers to those questions.

 

Key grief recovery questions—

 We all look back over relationships and ask ourselves internal questions about them. The answers can help us complete the grief healing process.

One key question to ask yourself is:

What makes this death or loss different from others?

Was there something about the relationship that made it special? Was there “unfinished business” that will never be completed?

And we can go further with other important questions, like:

  • Are there things you wished would have been different about the relationship?
  • What could have been better?
  • Was there something more you would have liked to see fulfilled?

 

In my case, in the death of my daughter during an emergency delivery in the fifth month of pregnancy, I had a lot of emotions.

I’d spent five months with my daughter as she grew in my body, feeling her move. And I was seriously ill with morning sickness soon after the beginning of the pregnancy—so ill I couldn’t keep food down and had to undergo home IV therapy and intra-muscular anti-nausea treatment shots.

But I recovered from that and was just starting to enjoy the second trimester when tragedy struck, and our precious Victoria had to be taken too soon to survive outside my womb.

For a little over five months, I’d focused on my growing baby, wondering about what the baby would be like. Wondering if the little one was a boy or girl. Dreaming. Making plans. Mentally designing the nursery.

Then one night it all abruptly ended. My dreams and hopes were snatched away.

One of the things I wrote on the death announcements I sent out was: “Our dreams are certainly going to miss her—“

And that’s where I could have started the grief recovery process, writing down what I wished had been different, better or more.

 

Of course, I wish it didn’t turn out the way it did. That Victoria wouldn’t have died, or I would have been able to carry her further into the pregnancy and given her a better chance at life.

I wish I had better medical care. That the doctors would have responded to my concerns and to the concern of the ultrasound technician who picked up the problem during an examination. I wish they had been more concerned about the baby and me than the money they were trying to make and save.

I wish I could have had more time with her after her birth.

Victoria’s death had abruptly ended my hopes, dreams and expectations for our life together, as mother and daughter, and for our family’s life as a foursome. It killed my dreams of having a little girl to dress in frilly dresses and hair pinned into pigtails.

 

It’s important to remember that all these questions are critical to explore because hopes, dreams, and expectations happen in all relationships—even relationships that struggled or fell short; the ones that weren’t so great.

When we speak of grief, and grief recovery, we need to use these grief recovery terms:

“different, better, more;” and

“broken hopes, dreams, and expectations.”

 

They need to become part of our grief recovery language.

 

Communicating your grief—

When you’re first thrown into the grieving process, the emotions and myriad of them seem overwhelming and suffocating. You don’t know what to do with all the painful, sometimes incoherent thoughts.

In order to heal and recover, we need to be able to identify and communicate what’s going on within us. What the source is behind those complex feelings and thoughts.

When we do that, we gain control and reclaim a sense of purpose in life.

We can say to ourselves: I know how I feel. Now what do I need to do about it?

 

And that’s what we’ll be exploring in the next several weeks of posts.

What we can do about those feelings.

 

Invitation—
  1. Is there any grief you feel you haven’t worked through or fully recovered from? Would it help to ask these questions we’ve covered today:

What feelings am I experiencing about this grief and why?

What makes this loss different from others I’ve experienced?

What do I wish would have been different?

What could have been better?

What did I want more of?

 

I encourage you to start exploring those questions and jotting down answers to them. You might be surprised at what you learn, and what relief you gain from the process and learning.

I encourage you to explore and ask yourself these questions. To become actively engaged in moving forward into grief recovery.

NEXT WEEK we’ll look at incomplete grief, what it is and how to avoid living with it.

Until then, remember that the grief process is normal, and that there can be a full life on the other side of it.

Blessings,

Andrea

Andrea Arthur Owan, M.S., A.T., R., is a fitness pro, award-winning inspirational writer and senior-ordained chaplain. She works and writes to help people recover from trauma, grief and loss and to live their best lives — physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

Does Time Heal All Wounds?

I’M WILLING TO BET you’ve heard this saying before: Time heals all wounds.

But does it, really?

And does time heal grief, or the pain that accompanies it?

Or your question might be: how long does grief last?

 

While time does, eventually, alter the wound, we must be careful not to confuse time healing a wound with a wound healing within time.

Time alone and on its own does not heal a wound, or grief.

So what does time do?

 

While time does reduce the immediate pain associated with a loss, we can’t expect all pain to subside when a certain amount of time—a certain, pre-set number of days—passes.

But before we go deeper, let’s back up and get a quick overview of grief.

Anatomy of a grief—

A loss, especially a divorce or death of a loved one—can produce an overwhelming amount of pain—both emotional and physical—that causes an extreme amount of emotional energy.

This kind of loss causes a traumatic effect on the body—physically, emotionally and spiritually. And when it occurs, all components of our bodies are affected, and they need healing. Healing that can occur at different rates.

As the shock and its numbness start to wear off, they’re replaced by a reality of the loss. While that might seem, on the grief continuum, a lesser stress to the body, it can be just as traumatic.

Fear often sets in. The fear of never having the same family structure, of never being able to see the deceased person again, of all your dreams being shattered, of this new reality being permanent.

And fear puts a lot of stress on the body.

 

After the reality of my dad’s death set in, I started experiencing fear that evolved into panic attacks. When my mind realized the finality of his passing—that he was really gone and never coming back—it rebelled and panicked. It took a lot of meditation, breathing exercises and down time to heal from that stage.

But my sadness did not necessarily lessen because of the passage of time. And trying to keep busy enough so that more time would pass and I would heal more would not have been a good prescription.

Ten years later I still think of things I’d love to share with him, decisions and questions I’d like to have his input in. I’d love to hear his laugh, his corny jokes (he thought he was pretty funny), and watch him do crafts with my husband and boys.

The fact that those things won’t ever happen saddens me. But the acute pain is no longer there. Just the melancholy of the reality. And there is some lightheartedness at the joyful memories of those corny jokes and crafty gatherings.

 

A stark view of our society and grief—

It’s very telling, and depressing, that companies are likely to give you more time off for a broken bone or surgery recovery than they would for bereavement. Six weeks versus three days, usually.

What does that say about our priorities?

Six weeks to heal a broken bone.

Three days to heal a broken heart.

Just how, following the death of a loved one, do you regain your equilibrium in three days?

Why do we expect grieving people to instantly recover from such devastating blows, such injury to their hearts and every aspect of their lives?

 

What does it mean to “get over” a death?

You may have seen the list put out my psychological or sociology associations putting time limit expectations on certain stressors and losses.

Often they’ll say that the death of a relative or friend takes two years to get over, and the death of a parent or spouse takes a year. And for the parents who’ve lost children?

They might tell you that you never really do recover from the death of a child.

 

But what do “recover” and “get over” mean?

Getting over seems to imply “forgetting.” Which we all know we could never do about anyone close to us dying. Especially a child.

And just because someone may still feel sadness, (I know I still do twenty-seven years later about the death of my daughter, Victoria), does not mean that person “hasn’t gotten over” the loss.

Like feeling happy, sadness is a normal part of life. Being sad years later shouldn’t be used as an indictment against someone who expresses it.

And when you feel as though society has put an arbitrary number—time limit—on grieving, you start feeling abnormal if you haven’t met that standard.

 

Time is not an active force with the power to heal. Time itself doesn’t have the power to do anything.

We’ve got to bury the notion that if you just wait long enough that you’ll be fixed.

 

The danger behind thinking you’ll never get over it—

There is a danger in thinking or believing you’ll never get over someone or something. Why?

Because when you believe you’ll never get over the death of a loved one, you convince yourself to stop trying to recover. You may even stop living. After all, why bother going on if you’re never going to feel better than you do today, drowning in this horrible gutting pain?

 

Using different words and descriptions to bring healing—

Instead of telling ourselves, and others, that we or they won’t ever get over something, we need to change our language.

We won’t ever forget our loved one, but if we take an active role in our grief recovery, we will be able to hang on to our fond memories without having to worry about those memories turning painful over and over again.

After our recovery and healing completion, we’ll be able to return to a fruitful life of meaning. And although our life will be much different, it can—and will—be good and enjoyable.

It won’t look like it immediately after the loss, but when you take active steps to recover—just as you would after letting a broken bone set and heal—you will be able to move forward.

Yet even with a broken bone you don’t return to “normal” as soon as the splint or cast is removed. You’re likely fatigued throughout the healing process. The body requires extra nutrients and sleep to heal properly. Disuse causes the muscle under the cast to atrophy. When the cast or splint is removed, you need to recondition the limb or joint, regain the muscle strength and coordination that was lost.

That process can take a long time and progress in fits and starts—two feet forward and then one foot backward. It’s a day-by-day re-assessment. And other factors can hamper your healing.

 

The same is true for the emotional and spiritual damage and recovery we face after a loss. We shouldn’t expect ourselves to jump right back into life. If we do, we’re likely to re-injure ourselves, or set our recovery back. In my exuberance to return to physical activity, I’ve been guilty of pushing the physical limits too soon and setting myself back.

And I was guilty of doing the same thing when trying to “recover” from Victoria’s death. It didn’t work out too well.

I thought if I stayed busy enough, and enough time passed, I’d “get over it,” and life would resume without me having to work on healing.

If I’d only been more patient with myself, more understanding. More in tune with my emotions. I would have healed better and more fully.

 

Don’t rank your relationships when grieving—

Since every relationship is unique, it’s impossible—and unwise—to try to rank their importance and attach a grief-meter to them.

I’ve heard stories of young people who had nannies while they were growing up and became more emotionally attached to their nannies than their busy parents. When the nanny dies, they’re devastated—more devastated than when their parents die.

The nannies weren’t blood relation, but they might as well have been.

Blood is not always thicker than water, nor does it always mean a closer, more significant and meaningful relationship.

When we grieve, we grieve our special and unique relationship with the person who died.

You set a trap for yourself when you try to compare or rank your loss.

Every loss is different. Every loss is individual. Every loss needs its own healing prescription.

Wrap up—

Try to resist the urge to think you have to recover from grief in a certain amount of time; that time will heal all your wounds.

Doing so leaves you vulnerable to not completing your grief process, of expecting more. Of getting burned out and depressed over your perceived timeframe failure.

 

Everyone’s different. Every grief is different. Every loss requires unique healing and an individual road to recovery.

Don’t try to follow or adhere to someone else’s road.

 

Additional Resources—

For more information on grief and the healing and timetable process and fallacy, see these helpful sites:

Grief Recovery Institute

Sue Ryder

WebMD

 

Invitation—
  1. Is there a grief you’re struggling with right now that you’ve put a healing timeframe on? What can you do to change your view or the limitations and expectations you’ve put on yourself. Or others?
  2. Is there a grief from your past you haven’t fully healed from, that someone rushed you through?
  3. Are you still experiencing sadness from memories of a loved one who passed on years ago and thought those feelings were “abnormal” or indicative of a grief not completed? Can you now recognize those emotions as normal and good, for the memory of your loved one?

 

NEXT WEEK we’ll start the process of moving from grief into recovery. You won’t want to miss this series. I know you’ll find it helpful for any grief you still need to recover from, grief that didn’t recover well, and for anyone near you struggling with grief.

See you then!

Andrea

*Some material in this post was found in Grief Recovery Institute resources.

Andrea Arthur Owan, M.S., A.T., R., is a fitness pro, award-winning inspirational writer and senior-ordained chaplain. She works and writes to help people recover from trauma, grief and loss and to live their best lives — physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

 

Finding Peace In Chaos: 10 Tips

I know you already know this, but 2020 has been an unbelievable, and rough year. Pent-up emotions unleashed, brutality on display over and over and over again in living color, anger and resentment driving people to vengeful behavior.

Within and amidst all this chaos, how can and does one find peace?

Not temporary peace that ebbs and flows with beautiful or ugly reality, but the kind of peace that comes and stays and quiets your heart in the midst of pain, injustice, and grief.

 

Perfect peace.

 

Dr. Don Colbert recently had a great blog post about finding peace and purpose in these unsettling times, and I’d like to use some of his post highlight concrete ways to find peace right now. Some of them we’ve recently discussed that I’d like to re-emphasize.

Read on to discover 10 tips to finding peace in the chaos.

 

  1. Name the source of your anger, fear, anxiety, pain—

It’s okay to be angry about something, or with someone. But often we feel angry about “something” without really knowing what that “something” is.

A big part of being able to find peace is naming the source of your anger, fear, anxiety or pain. Naming it gives you opportunity to confront it and understand it.

This is where journaling comes in, which we’ve talked a lot of about in the last several posts. Not only is it okay to journal, it’s healing to do so.

Thankfully, our Heavenly Father isn’t put off by our anger. He even demonstrated His own righteous anger when He cleared the temple of what He called “a den of thieves.” Thieves that made it impossible for people to reach and worship Him.

And the Bible is full of verbalized complaints, anger, frustration, pain and questions. Just read the Psalms, and Job.

Name the source to gain control over it. Just ranting and crying out to God about it helps unload it and qualify it. While He may not agree with your limited assessment about the cause, He will listen and guide you in your thinking and healing.

 

  1. Remember who is ultimately in control—

Although we certainly are surprised, God isn’t surprised by any of this. And that’s good for us, because He alone knows why it’s happening, (He sees what’s really going on behind the scenes and reads hearts), and He alone is the One who can give direction for leading us into greener pastures everyone can enjoy, rest in and feast upon.

It does a turmoil-filled heart good to remind itself of that.

If you want answers, go to the source of the right questions. The One who can give you the results you seek. And talk and listen to Him in prayer and meditation.

As a friend of ours likes to say, “Pray and pray often.”

He loves you and wants to hear from you. Often.

 

  1. Focus on God’s power and promises—

The Bible is loaded with reminders and proofs of God’s power, promises and provisions, and it’s important to pick out a few verses to remind yourself of that.

Some of the passages Dr. Colbert presented are good ones to keep in mind.

 

“…be anxious about nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:6-7).

 

“Jesus said unto him, ‘Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets’” (Matt 22:34-40).

 

“The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love. He will not always accuse, nor will he harbor his anger forever; he does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities. For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us” (Psalm 103:8-12).

 

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through Him” (John 3:16-17).

 

Another passage I’ve used as a foundation for my life is Joshua 1:9:

 

“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and of good courage; do not be afraid, nor be dismayed, for the LORD your God is with you wherever you go.”

 

But the passage before it sets up this command, and it’s worth noting:

 

“This Book of the Law shall not depart from your mouth, but you shall meditate in it day and night, that you may observe to do according to all that is written in it. For then you will make your way prosperous, and then you will have good success.”

 

Do you see it?

 

There is an if-so-then-that set up. If you read God’s word, meditate in it and try to commit your life to it, then you’ll be more able to prosper and find success in life.

Does hard work always guarantee success? No, because evil works all around us, seeking our failure. And our fallen human condition makes us broken and weak.

We are big sinners in need of a big savior. And we have one in Jesus of Nazareth, the Messiah.

One last passage I’ll note that is particularly pertinent right now:

 

“He has shown you, O man, what is good;

And what does the LORD require of you

But to do justly,

To love mercy,

And to walk humbly with your God” Micah 6:8)?

 

How much different would our world and lives look if we:

  • Loved the Lord our God with all our hearts, minds, and souls?
  • Loved our neighbors as we love ourselves?
  • Didn’t melt down in anxiety about anything, but, instead, took all of our anxieties to the Lord and prayed continually—with thanksgiving—about it?
  • Remember that God loves the WHOLE WORLD (that He created), and everyone in it and made the ultimate sacrifice to have a relationship with us?
  • Remember the Lord is compassionate, gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in love toward us?
  • Act toward others the same way He acts toward us?

 

  1. Use these truths to pray through and out of your anxiety—

As the famous Nazi concentration campus survivor, Corrie Ten Boom, said,

 

“Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow. It empties today of its strength.”

Prayer fills out hearts and minds with strength. It can restore our joy.

 

  1. Take your thoughts captive—

You can talk yourself into almost anything, including fear and anxiety. So it’s important to be able to talk yourself out of them, into gratitude, contentment and joy.

Again, prayer can do that, as you take every time and energy-wasting thought to God and ask Him to do something about it. Ask Him to remove it. Give it away to Him to deal with.

He’ll know what to do with it. You can trust Him on this.

 

  1. Take action in your own life and on behalf of others—

Nothing stops you from spending too much time thinking about yourself and wallowing in your own problems or negativity than to re-focus on others and their needs.

Put your energies into positive actions.

There are a lot of injustices in this world. Look around and identify one you want to pour your energies into and rectify.

What can you write about? What can you volunteer to do to help alleviate suffering and pain?

If you’re unsure, pray about that too. God will open your eyes to needs in your community. He’ll use your gifts to work to right wrongs, to stand up against prejudice and greed and all manner of evil.

And while you’re going about it, make sure you pray for the people you’re standing against. It will calm and open your heart toward them. Help diffuse tensions and open up lines of communication.

It’s very difficult to be angry with someone you’re praying for.

 

  1. Keep a gratitude journal—

Every day write down 3 things you’re grateful for; or at least thank God for them in prayer. Doing that opens your heart to receive joy and peace for the good things in your life.

And not stress so much on the things you don’t have and wish you did.

 

  1. Make sure you do your deep breathing exercises—

As part of your daily meditation, make sure you do your breathing exercises that I highlight in this post

Coping with COVID: Emotions and Grief Relief

 

People who do these breathing exercises and meditate experience more peace and gratitude, have less anxiety, and live longer.

 

  1. Make sure you nourish your body—

Keep your body nourished with good, natural food, the right amount of sleep, fresh air, and exercise.

All these ingredients are critical to good brain function and emotional, physical and spiritual health.

 

  1. Spend quality (and quantity) time with loved ones—

Even though it’s more difficult right now, make sure you carve out time for loved ones. Doing so releases the hormone oxytocin, a natural stress-relieving chemical.

Petting your cat or dog does the same thing, as does looking into someone’s eyes, (even your dog or cat’s eyes), receiving or giving a hug, laughing with someone. Sitting close to them. Touching one another.

Even though it’s difficult to do right now, make good, strong eye contact with people. Even with a mask on, you can usually tell when their eyes sparkle from a smile, a kind word, a joyful encounter.

And I’ve gotten braver, as I’ve hugged several friends I hadn’t seen in months or over a year. Mask on, I’ve put my whole strength into my brief hug, and I’ve enjoyed a enveloping hug in return. Just giving and receiving one makes you laugh with joy and relief.

 

Am I foolish and reckless for doing it? Perhaps. But I’ve decided that life really isn’t worth living without a hug or two; and—especially because one of my love languages is touch, and I grew up in the land of hugs (Hawaii)—my mental and emotional health require it.

So I hug, while praying that God will protect me from deadly viruses and germs.

 

 

As you go forward this week, I want to leave you with two things that have lifted my spirit and given me more joy and peace.

 

Lockdown

Yes there is fear.

Yes there is isolation.

Yes there is panic buying.

Yes there is sickness.

Yes there is even death.

But,

They say that in Wuhan, after so many years of noise,

You can hear the birds again.

They say that after just a few weeks of quiet,

The sky is no longer thick with fumes

But blue and grey and clear.

They say that in the streets of Assisi

People are singing to each other

across the empty squares,

keeping their windows open

so that those who are alone

may hear the sounds of family around them.

They say that a hotel in the West of Ireland

is offering free meals and delivery to the

housebound.

Today a young woman I know

is busy spreading fliers with her number

through the neighbourhood

So that the elders may have someone to call

on.

Today Churches, Synagogues, Mosques and

Temples

are preparing to welcome

and shelter the homeless, the sick, the weary.

All over the world people are looking at their

neighbours in a new way.

All over the world people are waking up to a

new reality.

To how big we really are.

To how little control we really have.

To what really matters.

Love.

So we pray and we remember that

Yes there is fear.

But there does not have to be hate.

Yes there is isolation.

But there does not have to be loneliness.

Yes there is panic buying.

But there does not have to be meanness.

Yes there is sickness.

But there does not have to be disease of the

soul.

Yes there is even death.

But there can always be a rebirth of love.

Wake to the choices you make as to how to

live now.

Today, breathe.

Listen, behind the factory noises of your

panic

The birds are singing again.

The sky is clearing,

Spring is coming,

And we are always encompassed by Love.

Open the windows of your soul

And though you may not be able

to touch across the empty square,

Sing.

 

Fr. Richard Hendrick, OFM

March 13, 2020

 

 

Until next week, when we’ll continue our grief myth discussion,

may you be filled to overflowing with joy, peace, and abundant blessings!

Andrea


Andrea Arthur Owan, M.S., A.T., R., is a fitness pro, senior-ordained chaplain, and award-winning inspirational writer. She works and writes to help people recover from trauma, grief and loss and to live their best lives — physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

Coronavirus: Fear, Quarantine, Freedom and Peace

Is Coronavirus fear driving you to rebellion and protest or forcing you to hide—fearful and anxiety-ridden—indoors?

Fear drives us to do some pretty irrational things—like reacting rather than thinking and acting prayerfully, intelligently, and purposefully; throwing all caution to the wind and taking unnecessary chances; or—in this case—driving us to turn our homes into quarantine cells.

Where are you right now?

 

Reacting, thinking and planning?

Hiding, or rebelling?

Paralyzed by fear or crying for freedom?

 

And why?

 

Stopping and thinking COVID-19 fear through—

Now, maybe more than ever in some of our lives, it’s critical for us to make the right decisions. The stakes are high.

Unfortunately, with all the conflicting data we’re bombarded with (if you’re paying attention to the bombardment; which, by the way, only heightens the fear), it’s difficult to know who to listen to. What to believe.

While God tells us it’s important to have a multitude of counselors, varying and conflicting opinions abound. We’re not sure who those wise counselors are that we should heed right now.

Our orderly worlds have been destabilized, and we’re searching for ways to right them again.

But there are stakes involved. For everyone.

 

What are the stakes for you?

Individual and Collective Considerations—

Each of us needs to look at our individual situation. How can we best get through this time emotionally, physically, spiritually and financially?

To figure that out, here are some of the serious questions we might ask ourselves:

Am I out of work and needing to support our family?

Do extended family members need physical or emotional help?

Do I and my family need help?

If my income is stable and I’m able to work from home, is it worth forcing a return to normal—maybe too quickly—and risking exposing high-risk friends, family or feeble elderly to my (possibly) asymptomatic condition? Risk getting the vulnerable sick.

Could my outdoor protests risk taxing an already-overwhelmed hospital and exhausted medical staff? Am I showing by my actions that I don’t really care as much as I say I do about those front line workers? Or my neighbors.

Do I have that “elective” cancer surgery when delaying it puts me at even greater risk of waiting too long and succumbing to the cancer—that didn’t go on hiatus for the virus?

 

Or maybe you’re thinking:

I’ve examined all my options. I didn’t qualify for a small business loan, or got turned down, and I need to work to provide for my family. That relief check is only going to take me so far.

I really want to go to the beach, and the Constitution guarantees my right to peaceably assemble there with my like-minded friends.

I have a right to assemble, so I’m going to show up at the governor’s mansion armed to the teeth with a show of firepower force to prove it. Intimidation. That’s the ticket.

 

In his first letter to Timothy, (1:2-3), the Apostle Paul says that we need to pray for our leaders so we can live peaceful and quiet lives. That’s the main goal here.

Living in peace.

Paul says that goal is good and pleases God our Savior.

I can live in peace as long as someone allows me to earn wages to support myself and my family, pay whatever taxes the government extracts, travel to, from and when and where I desire, and be allowed to worship and practice my religion “in godliness and holiness.”

 

I’m not making a political statement here. And I’m not going to divulge what I think about the lockdown and quarantine “laws.”

What I am encouraging everyone to do is to ask themselves the right questions:

What is my personal situation; and what are the stakes?

Know what they are for you, and for your community.

 

We are individuals with rights. But we are also part of a larger tribe. Americans like to think of themselves as country-driven, until something runs up against their personal rights and independence.

 

What to do about our paralyzing COVID fear?

This isn’t about “us” versus “them.” And it isn’t about shaking our fists at the virus, or the authorities, and demanding our rights.

This is about seeking out the omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient God who loves us, knows all about the ins and outs of this virus, cares for our pain and fear, and wants us to enjoy peace in the midst of this storm.

I know that’s sometimes easier said than done. But it’s the truth. If we earnestly seek out God and ask, He’ll gracious give us the kind of peace we need to get through this.

 

Why should you ask for and receive peace?

We should ask God for peace because research indicates that those who enjoy that personal, calming and fulfilling relationship with the Lord—particularly followers of Jesus Christ—are suffering less anxiety, fear and depression during this COVID “crisis,” and the unbelievers are suffering more.

We can win this fear battle. We can tamp down reactive rebellion. If we’re able to stay home, we can view it as a time of rest and joy rather than a time of prison.

How do I know that?

Because I had to experience something similar to this 25 years ago.

Assessing my personal stakes—

A little over 25 years ago, I was confined to bed during my pregnancy with my younger son. Completely confined. No getting up and meandering into the kitchen for a snack. No sitting up to relieve the hip and backache.

No freedom.

And I couldn’t even lie flat. My legs, pelvis and chest had to be propped up higher than my head to relieve the pressure on my cervix, which had been sewn shut after I went into premature labor at 22 weeks.

For three months I was only allowed to get up to walk to the bathroom—four steps away. The only exercise I got was contracting my calves to point my toes to reduce the risk of getting blood clots in my legs. I gingerly maneuvered my increasing bulk from one side to the other to avoid getting pressure sores on my hips.

Because my digestive tract shut down a week into the quarantine, my meals were reduced to canned spinach, orange juice, sauerkraut juice, and Ensure. (Yum!) My husband bought it by the carton loads.

I was scared I was going to lose another baby to a high-risk pregnancy problem.

But I was determined to give it my best shot. I counted the cost—the stakes.

They were very high indeed.

Stay in bed and improve my chances of giving birth at full term to a healthy baby.

Or push the envelope, get up when I felt like it, and risk losing it all.

Four months didn’t seem too long, until I parked myself in that bed.

Every day I put a one-day-more check mark on the little pocket calendar propped on the table next to my bed. I counted the number of days I’d successfully lain there, and the number of days remaining. I noted those on the calendar too. If I made it through a morning and into the afternoon, I was overjoyed. One more minute, one more hour, one more day improved the chances.

Alone every day in a big house on four acres in avocado country. I’d eagerly await my husband and four-year old son’s arrival home, to chat with them for a half hour, until they dispersed to do other things. We had no cable TV and only two major channels that always snapped off to bug races by midnight, sometimes the hardest time to be with myself. I watched the entire O.J. Simpson trial. Got to be familiar with his lawyer Johnny Cochran and the rest of the circus. It wasn’t the most inspiring five hours a day, but it kept me entertained.

I couldn’t even enjoy the outside.

Or see it.

The only window in the room was behind my bed, and I couldn’t sit up and look outside.

The French door to the outside had a window it, but it was covered with blinds that didn’t flip open. They could be rolled up, but because the afternoon sun shone in the room and heated it up too much, the blinds remained closed. The only thing I could see through the slats was a little sun during daylight, and a sliver of moonlight at night.

Day after tedious day, I did the same thing. It became a ritual. A ritual I clung to. It was the only thing giving me any sense of stability and hope.

Within a month I thought I was going to go nuts.

And the longer the time went on, the more fearful I became. In spite of the better odds, my anxiety became more pronounced. Depression settled in at night.

Around the third month, the panic attacks started.

I’d never had a panic attack before. It was frightening.

And it nearly drove me out of bed.

And if I had gotten out of it, I likely would have lost the battle.

 

And that’s what could happen to us during this pandemic.

We could get out and return to normal too soon. Test too much of the waters. Not see the rip current beneath the surface ready to sweep us away from safety.

Or—after informing ourselves to the best of our ability, taking counsel, and praying fervently —we could determine in our heart to do what we have to do. Maybe return to work; open our family business to willing customers.

Whatever that is for us, and for our family. And for our community.

Striving, in as much as possible, to live at peace.

 

How do you confront fear and keep going in spite of it?

Staying in bed like that was tough, and lonely.

My doctor reminded me during my check-in phone calls with him that it was a tiny portion of my life to sacrifice. I knew he was right.

But when it was all over (I made it three out of the ideal four months and gave birth to a six and a half weeks premature baby boy who is now six-feet tall and finishing law school), he shook his head and said, “I don’t know how you did it. It must have been shear determination.”

I smiled and shook my head. “No. Determination had nothing to do with it. If it weren’t for God and the heavenly encouragement He gave me through different sources—friends, motivational tapes, and uplifting messages on Christian radio—I would never have made it. I would have gotten out of that bed a long time ago.”

He simply nodded. As though he was in awe.

 

Coronoavirus-19 is an individual problem, and a community problem—

 During this pandemic of worldwide “we,” we stand both alone—sometimes in isolation—and together.

As Christian artists for King and Country, Tori Kelly, and Kirk Franklin sing in their recently released song “Together,” (filmed during quarantine from each of their homes),

we will fall together,

or rise together.

But it may be the individual decisions that cause either one of those scenarios to happen.

What are the stakes for you?

They do affect all of us.

 

 

Invitation—

Have you spent a lot of time in prayer, reflecting on this pandemic and what it means for you, your family, and your community?

What is God saying to you, and what are you going to do about it?

What is the hardest part of the quarantine for you?

What lifts you up, makes the quarantine easier, and reduces your anxiety and depression?

 

May God give you the knowledge, wisdom and discernment you need to answer all of your coronavirus questions and dispel your deepest fears.

Until next time,

May God protect and guide you, in all ways.

Andrea


Andrea Arthur Owan, M.S., A.T., R., is a fitness pro, chaplain, and award-winning inspirational writer. She works and writes to help people recover from grief and loss and to live their best lives — physically, emotionally, and spiritually.