why i'm grieving for someone i've never met

I’m know I’m going to cry when she’s gone.

I can feel it waiting there, simmering and taunting the edges, about to boil over. A day is coming — and it might be soon — when I turn on my computer and learn that she’s gone.

And I just know the tears are going to fall.

What I don’t know is what I’m supposed to say to my family when they ask me what’s wrong.

How will I explain that I’m grieving for someone I’ve never met? For a family who doesn’t even know I exist?

I first read about Kara Tippetts’ story through her guest post on Ann Voskamp’s site, when Kara wrote a moving letter to Brittany Maynard, encouraging her to choose life. I didn’t want to get all tangled up in the hurts and the joys, but I was hooked, and she reeled me in. Later, iBelieve.com featured an excerpt from Kara’s book, The Hardest Peace.

Have you ever grieved over someone you’ve never met? If so, have you ever wondered why?

I was quite surprised to realize that I am, in fact, grieving for someone who doesn’t even know I exist. I spent a lot of time thinking about why I find myself caring at all. Why do I ache, when she’s not even part of my life?

Join me over at iBelieve.com for the rest of this article, on why I’m grieving for someone I’ve never met.

Do you know someone who has experienced grief? Have you known grief intimately yourself? If so, I wrote an e-book for you. It’s called Letters to Grief, and you can get a copy by clicking here. I pray that it will be a blessing.

Andrew Budek-Schmeisser on February 4, 2015 at 10:38 am

I’ve been following Kara as well, and went over to read your article on iBelieve; good stuff, but I couldn’t link to FB to comment there.

So I’ll comment here!

Being in something of the same situation as Kara, and fading as well (I don’t nap, though…I pass out) I’m just done with the emotion. Death happens, but until it does there’s a lot to do, and I do it until I collapse. When I can get up, I keep going.

In Viet Nam-speak…it don’t mean nothin’, not a thing. Xin loi (pronounce it “sin loi”; Vietnamese for anything ranging from “tough s*** ” to a sincere “I am so sorry!”)

There is still work for willing hands, even if all those hands can do is steeple in prayer.

So no one better grieve for me. Pick up my cause, my weapons, distribute my mags, and fight on.

One thing…what you said about not reacting with much emotion to Charlie Hebdo and Ferguson, etc, being the sign of a hardened heart…I don’t think this is always true.

I’ve seen a lot of death, and have had to bury friends…and sometimes the bits of them I could find (still have dreams about that). Nothing like leaving someone for whom respect borders on love in the red laterite of a country you’ll never visit again.

Emotion will eat you alive, if you let it. And that is no legacy to preserve, for a dead friend.

These things happen; it’s unfortunate, but in God’s world it’s a necessity, and it is not the end. You’ve got to live with one foot in the grave, so to speak, because that grave is the doorway to a bright eternity, and there is no need for weeping.

Paula Kaye on February 3, 2015 at 11:26 pm

I feel exactly the same way. I am following her story and having just lost my husband in July I can’t read a word on her blog without tears streaming down my face. She is such a beautiful inspiration!
Andrew Budek-Schmeisser on February 4, 2015 at 10:38 am

I’ve been following Kara as well, and went over to read your article on iBelieve; good stuff, but I couldn’t link to FB to comment there.

So I’ll comment here!

Being in something of the same situation as Kara, and fading as well (I don’t nap, though…I pass out) I’m just done with the emotion. Death happens, but until it does there’s a lot to do, and I do it until I collapse. When I can get up, I keep going.

In Viet Nam-speak…it don’t mean nothin’, not a thing. Xin loi (pronounce it “sin loi”; Vietnamese for anything ranging from “tough s*** ” to a sincere “I am so sorry!”)

There is still work for willing hands, even if all those hands can do is steeple in prayer.

So no one better grieve for me. Pick up my cause, my weapons, distribute my mags, and fight on.

One thing…what you said about not reacting with much emotion to Charlie Hebdo and Ferguson, etc, being the sign of a hardened heart…I don’t think this is always true.

I’ve seen a lot of death, and have had to bury friends…and sometimes the bits of them I could find (still have dreams about that). Nothing like leaving someone for whom respect borders on love in the red laterite of a country you’ll never visit again.

Emotion will eat you alive, if you let it. And that is no legacy to preserve, for a dead friend.

These things happen; it’s unfortunate, but in God’s world it’s a necessity, and it is not the end. You’ve got to live with one foot in the grave, so to speak, because that grave is the doorway to a bright eternity, and there is no need for weeping.
Salesse on July 23, 2015 at 4:51 pm

I feel your pain. I am currently grieving a missing child. I don’t know this family, but it hurts. It hurts like he is my own. People think I am crazy, I cannot explain it. But that doesn’t make it less real or painful. I have been hitting all the stages, from anger to bargaining. Now I am in depression because I am sure this child is lost forever. I wish it would go away, but at least knowing other people understand these strange connections helps.
- Kate Motaung on July 23, 2015 at 5:54 pm
  
  So very sorry to hear this, Salesse. What a tragic situation. May God grant the comfort and peace that only He can give, and may the child be found and restored to their family, even today.