Two Little Words For Those Really Hard Times

("Any Good In Goodbye" Continued)

I don’t know who hurts more when I have a hangnail – me or my mom.
She winces as if it’s her own when I show her my finger.

Why would my hangnail hurt my mom just as much as me?

I don’t know. I guess it’s because she loves me that much.

We tend to take on the pain of those we love.

When my first-ever boyfriend moved away my freshman year of high school, I came running into the house after saying my last goodbye. I was in hysterics. The tears could not break lose fast enough to keep up with my devastation.

I just knew my life was OVER! 

When I got home, I didn’t even make it to my room. I fell on the floor, face buried in a couch cushion.

And my mom –

the mom who knew everything would be just fine; the mom who has the eternal perspective to know this heartbreak did not have the last word; the mom who could have easily told me to just get over it … Yeah, that mom?

That mom dug my face out of the couch cushion and gently rested it in her lap. She stroked my hair. She repeated over and over how sorry she was. She hurt with me. And I felt less alone.

Suffering is hard enough, but suffering alone? Unbearable.  

As I’ve said goodbye this past year, I've learned empathy does not heal the wound. 

But it does make the process of healing a lot better.

Why? Because you feel understood, loved, but most of all…

You feel less alone.

I think that’s why I have held on to the shortest verse in the Bible so tightly during the suffering of goodbye. Just two, little words that aren't so little.

“Jesus wept.” (For the entire story, click here.)

Some of Jesus’ closest friends were a set of siblings – Mary, Martha and Lazarus.

In John 11, we read that Lazarus grew sick and died.

After Lazarus’ death, Jesus goes to visit Mary and Martha.

And when Jesus walks with Mary and Martha to visit the gravesite, Jesus begins to weep.

Jesus –

the Jesus who knew everything would be just fine; the Jesus who has the eternal perspective to know this death does not have the last word; the Jesus who could have told Mary and Martha to get over it (after all, He was about to raise their brother from the dead) … Yeah, that Jesus?

That Jesus wept with Mary and Martha over the loss of their brother as if it were his own. 

John tells us that his "spirit was troubled." 

He didn't just cry; He wailed.

And to know this.

To know that He cries.

To know that the Creator of the universe not only understands our grief but experienced suffering in a way you and I will never live. 

To know that He not only cares about my feelings but feels my feelings. 

Something about that makes saying goodbye, makes the suffering in this life, a little easier.

As He has lifted my face out of the couch cushion and has stroked my hair …

As we've cried together over brokenness, something has happened.

I've, in turn, understood His suffering a little more. I've experienced Him more. I know Him more. 

And that intimacy is one of the "goods" I have found in goodbye.

I don’t know who your hangnail hurts more – you or Jesus 

He gets you, He understands you, He empathizes with you.

You are never alone in your suffering.

Is There Any Good In Goodbye?

A little precursor note for you:

Over the past year, it seems I’ve had a lot more goodbyes than hellos. 

I am abundantly grateful for the support I have, so I do not write about this season of goodbye fishing for sympathy/attention. 

Instead, I hope over the next few weeks, this blog can just turn into a classroom for both you and me as we share with one another what we have learned through loss and learn about how God sees it. 

My prayer is that we encourage one another (so please comment!) and that these posts bring us comfort and hope as we look to a day when we say "goodbye" to goodbye forever.

Why is the word “good” in goodbye?

Is there really ANY good in it? 

At face value, there doesn’t seem to be much.

In fact, I’d like to have a stern convo and a firm handshake with the person who created the word.

Sure, there are byes that are easily good.

No one cries when they say bye to braces, bye to acne, bye to the polyester gym shorts they made us wear in middle school P.E.

Those really are GOODbyes.

But then there are goodbyes that don't feel that good; they maybe feel okay. 

'Okaybyes.'

They are the byes that hurt but still leave you believing that life will be alright. 

I had some 'okaybyes' this year.

An 'okaybye' to a job that I loved for six years and a team I loved even more.

An 'okaybye' to my childhood home. I’m the nostalgic weirdo that has to say goodbye to inanimate objects. So I said goodbye to my room where my old Backstreet Boys poster hung and goodbye to the yard where we buried our retriever Molly.

Maybe you said an 'okaybye' to a friend who moved away, a lost piece of jewelry from your grandmother or said an 'okaybye' to college.

'Okaybyes' are more grey than dark. Light still creeps in from the end of the tunnel.

But what about the byes where light almost feels completely absent?

The byes that aren't good or okay. They are heart wrenching. 

The byes that make our stomach hurt.

The byes that seem too soon. 

The byes that leave a hole. 

The byes that empty out the Klenex box and fill our minds with questions.

The byes that make waking up the hardest decision of your life and brushing your teeth seem pointless.

Who cares?! They’re just stinkin’ teeth!

Those feel more like 'badbyes.'

How are we supposed to get through 'badbye'? It doesn't look as if any good is in them.

My husband lost his dad to brain cancer recently.

He was my husband’s hero and best friend, healthy, active, gentle and loving. 

And then all of a sudden … he was gone.

I remember walking through the grocery story right after his death thinking, “How can everyone be so normal right now? How can she be chatting on her phone and picking up a can of corn as if life is okay? It’s not!”

In my heart the world had stopped.

But I guess the world missed that memo.

You’ve had your own share of 'badbye.'

Maybe you’ve said byes that are much more often and much more painful than I.

So can there really be ANY good in it, any good in goodbye?

Well, s-l-o-w-l-y God is showing me some of the good - in the 'okaybyes' and even in the 'badbyes,' starting with the shortest verse in the Bible:

“Jesus wept.” (John 11:35)

I’ll go into why this verse has brought me comfort a little later. 

But for now, want to read the surrounding verses with me (John11:1-45)?

Over the next handful of posts, I'll be hanging out in John 11, pointing out some verses that have gone deep. 

Would love for you to hang out there with me as we talk about the hardship and even the beauty of goodbye.

(Would you like to join in on the conversation? What “goods” have you found in goodbye, if any at all?)