It’s Okay to Not Be Okay
It’s okay to not be okay.
I’ve heard this said quite a bit recently. I told Calvin today, “I’m not okay, but I want to be. I’m tired of not being okay.”
Grief has felt endless. The past several weeks have been hard. Truthfully, “hard” doesn’t seem adequate. I honestly don’t have words to express it. There has been thing after thing after thing - that all feel impossible and none of which I can talk about openly. I have teared up countless times while in conversation, while going about every day tasks, while working, etc. I feel like I am holding in a flood, but no one would know.
It’s funny because I have had many comments lately about looking so happy. It feels ironic. While yes, there is joy and goodness and true moments of happy, there are also huge weights and pain. The danger and lie is somehow equating that with a lack of faith. I fully believe in the power of God and His promises, and yet God doesn’t promise us a life without pain. On the contrary, Paul described his hardships in 2 Corinthians 4:8-10 as follows,
“We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies.” Sometimes it feels as though some of our burdens can never fully heal this side of eternity.
I say all this not to bring attention to me, but to say that many are walking around with “invisible pain” or “invisible grief.” We never know what someone is experiencing or what they may be holding. It’s easy to mistake that grief only exists with death, but grief entails so much more. Grief can be any kind of loss or as our counselor said, the loss of our anticipated future. I read something recently that stopped me in my tracks. It was actually in a little book I picked up about divorce. It perfectly articulated something I have felt and yet never felt understood in.
I was comforted as I read, “But God does understand, and He is not surprised or offended. Like you, Jesus grieved when he saw the effects of sin on this world. When his friend Lazarus died, Jesus stood outside the tomb and wept, even though he knew that moments later he would raise Lazarus from the dead.
(John 11:28-37)
Why did he weep? Because sin and death are ugly and painful. Yes, it is profoundly comforting to know that God is bigger than our problems, and He will be with us and even make us better because of them. But knowing God's comfort doesn't mean pretending to be untouched by sorrow. Let God's love and comfort be the container that holds your grief. Your grief will not destroy you because it is contained within God's love and promises to you." (Romans 8:18-39)”
Even in our deepest sorrow, we may find comfort. A friend asked me yesterday how she could pray for me. I said, “I literally don’t know.” As I was praying this morning, I was at a loss. I couldn’t form words. I was reminded of Romans 8:26 which says, “In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.” When there are actually no words, the Spirit prays on our behalf.
So whatever you are carrying, friends, He is carrying you. Even if you cannot speak about it, even if you feel misunderstood or unseen, God understands. It’s okay to not be okay because as the Lord said, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” 2 Corinthians 12:9
*It’s raining today and feels fitting. As I told Eli the other day, ”the sky is crying.” I love this sweet photo of him. It reminds me that it can be raining but we can also find joy in the midst of it
