Wednesday, August 20, 2014

The Goodness of Grief

Tonight the sky is like a pink sea, a dusky blue wrapped in a single, endless cloud the velvet color of a blushing peach. As is usual when inspiration strikes me, I am alone, on my apartment balcony, cradling coffee to soothe the dull ache in my temples, my bible on my knees. The silence, outdoors, is less deafening, more embracing.

Perhaps, rather than inspiration, it is desperation that prods me to write, to push the weight of words off my chest.



I am weary of being weary. I long for courage. I long to be wrapped in the lion-heart of my Savior, to be comforted as only He can comfort. I have sought that comfort in the world around me, people and places and things, but have returned still thirsty and desperate.

Because the comfort I long for cannot be manmade. The depth of warmth and peace my soul aches for, scratches at my insides for, is too vast to come from anyone but an infinite God.

It doesn't go away, this ache. I am more aware of it than I have ever been. I cannot escape it. Even wrapped in worship music and scripture, the ache finds me whenever I am alone; it comes crawling after me, pushing the ball of salt water, that I refuse to acknowledge, up and out, through my eyes and over my cheeks.


But here, suddenly, is the incalculable truth. I must face the ache. Hold out my arms and let it wrap me up. Somehow, my soul sees that this ache will give me wings. The ache pushes up the red staircase of my throat, out into beating song, or through my fingers in red, bleeding words. It hurts, but it hurts less than when it is an empty, unacknowledged weight I carry around in the pit of my stomach.

This is grief. This is growing up.


Am I explaining the beauty of this? Do you see it? The beauty of pain and tears and trial? "Count it all joy" is suddenly completely clear. There is a goodness and a grace in grief that no words can truly paint.


So please, World, don't give up. Don't let fear guide you, fear of pain or sorrow, of loss or betrayal or loneliness.

Let this great goodness guide you: 
that an infinite God made Himself man and died, simply so that we, peasants and slaves, could enter the castle of the King, and sit by the fire, and talk with Him.

And be filled.
With all my heart,

Emma Pearl
Note: These images are not mine; they were discovered on that little gem we call Pinterest.


7 comments:

Sarah Elisabeth said...

Simple. Beautiful. And gut-wrenching true.

jaci said...

these are the words of my heart, too.

Amanda Read said...

Hello Emma,

I remember about 6 years ago finding your creative projects online after seeing your SAICFF movie listed on the festival website. I found your writing and music videos to be such a source of inspiration and couldn't wait for a camaraderie of family and friends who wanted to do the same with me.

After all this time, GOD has finally granted me that desire of my heart, but it has not been without lots of unpredictable emotional grief due to various issues all happening at once. But my experience pales in comparison to what you have been enduring. My mother lost her mother to a brain tumor at the age of 16, and her younger brother committed suicide when I was 5 years old, so I know a little about such tragedy.

It occurred to me, once...the great struggles that the LORD let His prophets and apostles endure for the sake of communicating His messages. It doesn't seem to be an uncommon experience among the creatively gifted too. I feel that He allows writers - and all artists, really - in particular to live through turmoil for the sake of comprehending truths that we are uniquely equipped to communicate. That might be a broad generalization, but a concept I have found encouraging.

Blessings on all you do!

~ Amanda
www.amandaread.com

Amy said...

Lovely, and true. Thank you for putting these feelings into words!

Emma Ramsey said...

Amanda,

Thank you for your sincere thoughts. They mean a lot to me. So sorry to have been so long in replying! I wanted to take time and actually reply, and have been too busy to do so for a while.

I am blessed to know that my family has blessed and inspired you, and your thoughts about writers and artists ring true in my heart. I feel that artistry and creativity are gifts, an ability to share that enables us to touch and inspire the world around us. As difficult as turmoil is, if we manage to come out on the other side, we come out stronger, with more to give. That is nothing to take lightly. It's a big responsibility! Thanks for reminding me of that. :)

Blessings in return. :)
Emma

Emma Ramsey said...

Amy, Sarah Elisabeth, and Jaci,

Thank you all for your sweet and encouraging words. They mean so much to me.

Y'all bless me muchly,
Emma

Emma Ramsey said...
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