Grief Interrupted
When God Steps into the Moment
My grief was raw. It had only been eight days since my husband’s earthly departure. And to say that my errand to the hospital was inconvenient would misrepresent the level of pain it was causing me. My exasperation hit an all-time high, and along with it, my physical condition and my grief, when things went off the tracks and a quick drop off became an hour-long ordeal. In the midst of it, God interrupted my physical and emotional meltdown and woke me up to why I was there. What follows is how He stepped into my not-so-fun experience at the hospital that day.
Back Story:
Two years earlier, a doctor gave me a steroid shot hoping to reduce inflammation, but it sent me into a bedridden/housebound state instead! After the first six months, we took an out-of-state medical trip and finally found help and a correct diagnosis. Throughout our marriage, my husband and I had prayed and searched for answers to my health issues. We discovered I suffered from a connective tissue disorder and postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome but lived undiagnosed for at least 32 years before that. With this insight and new hope, we believed I would get back up. But it hadn’t happened yet.
On the morning of my birthday, which turned out to be my husband’s heavenly birthday, my Dad drove me to the hospital lab for bloodwork and to pick up a take-home kit. I was to drop it back off in a few days. But through the event of my husband’s passing later that day, I was unable to make it back until the next week. In an instant, my life had suffered an earthquake of the highest magnitude.
Errand to the Hospital Lab:
My son took me to the hospital. I went through the line to drop off the sample at the lab. Then they had me go to another line and register. But this was something I did before getting the bloodwork done on my birthday. I was upset because they said my registration had been closed. It had only been eight days. When I inquired, I found out this does not usually happen. I was not happy. The line was long; I had to endure a longer wait than anticipated.
I was trying to calm down because my heart rate and blood pressure had already shot up into the unwanted zones and my skin was flushing into lobster shades just sitting there. I was grieving for Lee and I was angry that they were doing this to me. The portable air conditioner around my neck hummed, the mask I wore into the building covered the gut-shaking, ugly crying that I was trying to do quietly. I was going over the checklist of things to calm myself down, and hopefully lower my heart-rate, blood pressure and temperature. The only evidence of what was happening to me was streaming down my face and soaking my mask. Even though my illness isn't obvious and my sorrow was partially veiled, the rawness of my emotion was observed by everyone in the room.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
I tried to focus on just breathing as I did everything I could to help de-escalate my condition. The last thing I wanted was to add to my son’s pain in the wake of his Dad’s passing. Our grief was raw. Just as my son looked at me reassuringly, a lady called out, “Tami Gaupp.” And we took our place in the seats at her desk.
As I started the check-in process—again, I introduced my son and explained why he was helping me and that he and his family were visiting from Texas. I took out my driver’s license and insurance card to have them ready. Then the questions. Name, birthdate, married or single-- and that’s when I lost it. My son took over answering for me as I looked down and wept. The wave of grief crashed so hard over me that I didn’t think I would be able to come out of it. Then I heard her say, “It’s so hard to be a mother-in-law! No matter what I do, it feels like they are pushing me away. And it hurts so bad.” When I heard her say this, it felt like I’d been splashed in the face by icy-cold water. I had often encouraged other empty-nest moms with married sons, like me.
Recognizing the Moment:
Without saying it out loud, I asked, “Lord, is this interruption in my schedule You? Really, you’re doing this now?” This isn’t the first time I felt a nudge from the Lord to stop what I was doing and call someone, give a gift, serve or say something specific to someone. During these moments, I don’t see the big picture of why I’m doing it but I trust God enough to release the outcome or spend time wondering if I did enough. God is big enough to turn my little act of obedience into something grand if He wants to. Sometimes I even think He does this to work more of His life into my life.
I was in the middle of trying to control the wave of grief that had just hit with a vengeance when I realized I was now single in the eyes of the hospital. I knew from experience that if I didn’t control myself, weeping could turn into dry heaving easily. But I also knew if I ignored this moment, I would always remember it. So, I made a quick decision. That’s when I wiped my tears, lifted my head, took a deep breath, looked into her eyes, and said, “I understand. But it is about forgiveness and undeserved grace. And I promise, if you sow these things, you will eventually see a harvest of blessings.” We just looked at each other for a moment that couldn’t have been long but seemed like time stood still. Then when she started back typing my information into the computer, I looked down again and started weeping quietly. Thankfully my son was there to help me communicate the needed information for the registration process.
It amazes me how God can break through even my rawest grief and un-wellness, and use me to encourage someone else who needs it. That encourages me.
Have you ever felt inconvenienced and irritated, but then wonder if there may be more happening than you’re aware of? The Creator of all things, including time and space, is able to step into the moments of our life and add something extra. Let’s ask Him to open up our awareness, and all our senses so that we don’t miss these kinds of moments.
May His presence rest on you today,
Tami Sorenson Gaupp