Leaving Grief’s House

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long. – Psalm 23:6 (NRSV) 

For a while after the death, I lived in grief’s house. In that house, some rooms were stripped bare, lacking any comfort. When I fled those empty chambers, I found other rooms overstuffed with mementos, scraps of paper, and heavy furnishings. Still, I felt safe there, in grief’s house.  

In time, I heard a knocking. Following the sound through the empty rooms and the full ones, I found a door. Honestly, until then, I didn’t even know that grief’s house had a door to the outside. The door was heavy, but I pushed with all my might and at last it creaked open. Goodness stood on the doorstop, a covered plate in her arms. Mercy was right behind her, carrying a huge bouquet of flowers.  

Grief’s house had protected me even, it seemed, from kindness, and I still could not let them all the way in. But we sat in the garden, Goodness and Mercy and I, and we ate and talked and cried and laughed. This house, they told me, was a sturdy place to stay for a while, but there were other things to see in the world besides its small rooms. “And we will go with you,” they assured me, “all the way.” 

Sometimes I go back to grief’s house to visit. But most of the time, I live now in the Lord’s house. The meadows here are green and the waters are still, and sometimes the valleys are shadowy. And Goodness and Mercy are right there, just over my shoulder, urging me ever onward.  

Prayer
You are my Shepherd. Thank you for guiding me all the way. Amen.

About the Author
Rev. Jennifer Garrison (formerly Brownell) is a writer, spiritual director and pastor living in the Pacific Northwest. Her published work most recently appeared in the book The Words of Her Mouth: Psalms for the Struggle, available from The Pilgrim Press.