Rebekah Cornelius | Train – Develop – Care
Tugging on one little thread can unravel the whole sweater—a visual that describes my relationship with grief and loss. Loss has unraveled my expectations, joy, longing, desire, rootedness, and sense of being known. I’m left stunned. How did grief and loss become a central part of my story? This year I’ve been tugging on the fraying threads, getting back to the original parts of myself that haven’t felt safe, known, or loved.
My parents graduated to heaven in 2013 and 2014, earlier than anticipated, when I was in my mid-thirties. Those threads, along with unexpected singleness, unraveled me fast. It took me the next couple of years to make sure the unraveling wasn’t going to leave me with a pile of broken dreams and unmet expectations. In many ways, I’m still trying to understand it all as this year, I sell the house that became home for me after my parents passed and I felt alone. It feels like another unraveling.
What I really want is to pick up some knitting needles and have my sweater back, please! I would like to have the long life full of being known and loved I had anticipated. But life isn’t like that, is it? So I name the things I longed for and I allow myself to shed some tears—as many as needed, and as often as needed.
Grief is the experience of letting go of the picture in my head, letting go of the knitting needles, even letting go of what I want God to do about it all. It’s acknowledging the beauty of the sweater and choosing to believe that God is doing something.
I believe He’s weaving me into a tapestry, the Body of Christ, ultimately to worship and glorify God. Is it painful? Yes. Is it worth it? Absolutely. Because at the end, we are promised that “He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away (Revelation 21:4).”
And in the meantime, we remember: “You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book” (Psalm 56:8). He sees, He knows, He loves. I receive it, and I’m so grateful!
