faith unfaded

I was comforting someone who was feeling guilty after her daughter’s death. She had the usual thoughts: I should’ve done more. I could’ve been there more.

While reassuring her, I realized we almost all struggle with guilt when someone dies. I felt guilty when my own daughter died. I hadn’t been happy to discover I was pregnant—I had three other kids under the age of four when she was born. It took learning she might die for my maternal instincts to kick in. I should’ve loved her from the moment two pink lines appeared. That guilt stayed for years.

While empathizing and reassuring another mom, I realized something: When grief arrives at your door, guilt tries to sneak in as its plus one.

It’s up to you to shut the door on the unwelcome guest.

Grief has a reason to be there. It is the price we pay for loving someone enough that their absence changes the shape of our lives. We may not welcome grief, but we understand why it came.

Guilt is different.

Guilt slips through the door carrying a list of regrets.

I should have called more.

I should have visited more.

I should have said this.

I shouldn’t have said that.

If only I had known that would be the last time…

Grief can turn ordinary memories into evidence for a trial we conduct against ourselves. Suddenly we are examining years of love through the lens of individual moments when we got tired, frustrated, busy or simply got something wrong.

And we will always find something—because we are human.

When my mom died, guilt tried to sneak in again. This time I had bouncers at the door. My faith had grown and I knew it was the devil trying to sneak in guilt with my grief.

Of course there were things I wish I had done differently. There were moments I would change if God handed them back to me. Loving her deeply didn’t mean I loved her perfectly.

But guilt didn’t get to erase all the moments when I loved her well. There were some fabulous memories. I had three years of a daily relationship with my mom, just as I’d always dreamed I would. I hadn’t known it would be the end, but the Lord did and He gave me something that no money could buy—time.

Yeah, guilt is the ultimate funeral crasher.

We are so busy handling the arrival of grief that we don’t always notice when guilt sneaks in behind it.

It is the unwelcome hanger-on, but we have the power to deny its entry.

Guilt only gets in if you grant it access. Slam the door in its face.