What Grief has Taught Me.

Today is August 30th and it is National Grief Awareness Day. The definition of grief is, “Deep sorrow, especially that caused by someone’s death.” I am unsure that definition even scratches the surface of what grief is or feels like.

I think we experience grief in a lot of different situations. The loss or change of a job, life transitions, death, etc… I have experienced grief more than once, but almost three years ago this January I experienced the death of my grandpa. My papa was one of my greatest friends, advocates, & examples. My papa was also like a father to me. Losing him was the heaviest grief I have ever experienced in my life. It was heavy the day he died, it was heavy the month after, and today, almost three years layer, it is still so heavy.

My papa in Charleston. I took this photo while we were waiting for my Grammie to be done in one of the shops. He was such a patient man.

I want to take some time to write to you about a few things that have really helped me to not only survive while living in grief, but find peace throughout it’s heavy burden. I am not a therapist, or a grief counselor, but I hope my experience and story will provide you with just a little glimmer of hope that you can find spaces in grief where wholeness, & peace are possible.

I took this while we stood on the beach together on what would be our very last vacation.

1.) Let Yourself Feel the Memories.

In the beginning of my journey with grief I remember doing all I could to suppress every memory with my papa. I would tell myself, “don’t don’t don’t”, each time a memory would arise. I would do this as a defense mechanism in order to not feel pain or immediately break into tears. What I soon learned is those memories wouldn’t disappear and dealing with them all at once would cause outbursts of anger or sorrow that I struggled to deal with. Taking time each day to feel those memories, talk with my papa, write in a journal, etc. really helped me to manage my grief everyday rather than in overwhelming outbursts that I couldn’t control or manage.

2.) Seek Guidance.

Your best friend may be the best sounding board, but if they haven’t spent their education or career on grief counseling or therapy then they are not the guidance you need. I waited over a year to see a therapist to manage my grief, and I regret how long I waited. My therapist helped me identify what was trauma versus what was grief, and how to work through those things. She has been such a support to me as I navigate the death of my papa and how it effects my everyday thoughts, & life.

On one of our many trips to South Carolina together.

3.) Spend Time in the Memory.

One of the things grief does to so many people (and almost did to me), is it tries to rob you of any time honoring the memory of your loved one. I remember not allowing myself to even drink a Coke, go to the beach, or look at pictures of my papa because it was so gut wrenching that he was gone. Anything that reminded me of him I had just decided to cast away. It almost robbed me of some of the most beautiful things that allowed me to feel close to him. Now, as I work through my grief I try to spend at least one day a month doing something that makes me feel close to my papa. Sometimes I do it while I am sobbing, other times I do it while feeling his embrace and feeling the most joy surrounding me. Take time today to create space that allows you to feel so close to the memory or the situation that brings you that dark, and heavy grief.

A message my papa sent to me that I got to save as we said goodnight one evening.

I know this blog won’t take away your grief, and it probably won’t change it, but I hope it reminds you that grief doesn’t have to have the final word. Your memories are so precious, therapy is beautiful, & you are not alone in the darkness of grief. I hope this blog has been a source of light for you, and I pray it serves as a tool to help navigate another day in our heartbreak, together.

I love you, I am praying for you, & I pray your grief can also serve as a reminder that you loved so deep… something no one can take away.

Chels.

A Pastors Story of Survival

Philippians 4:6, John 14:27, Psalm 34:4, 1 Peter 5:7… These are just four out of many verses I keep nearby when I start feeling anxiety or depression take hold of my spirit.  I thought that was how having anxiety or depression worked if you were a Christian, let alone a pastor.  I thought it was prayer, & Bible verses, that is how God would take it away.  Until one night it didn’t go away.  What happens when all the prayers in the world, & all the hope in the Word don’t take away anxiety and feelings of suicide?

I wondered if I was not a good pastor, if I was, then I couldn’t imagine why my prayers weren’t taking my heart wrenching pain and fear away.  I didn’t get help because I feared losing my pastoral license, and I didn’t share my struggles with anyone close to me because I didn’t want them to think I wasn’t a good Christian or pastor.  I struggled silently, and I struggled alone.  I will never forget the night I decided I couldn’t survive another day.  I prayed for God to take my life… maybe a car accident, or something natural, but at 11pm I was still alive.

I wish I didn’t have to type this, and I wish I could keep this story to myself in a secret place where nobody ever had to know.  But God has challenged me to share it with the world in hopes it reaches someone who was Googling the same things I was on that cold night in September.  At 11pm that evening I sat with the pain of losing my foster daughter we thought we would be adopting, my husband who left our marriage, and losing my job.   I was Googling the quantity of pills I would have to take of an OTC medication I had in my cabinet in order to end my life.  Once I found my answer, I opened the bottle, counted the pills, and got a glass of water.  I sat in my bed, I begged God to take the pain away, I convinced myself there was no other way I could survive the pain I was suffering.

I remember the only lights on in my room were string lights that surrounded my bed, and I remember thinking I should probably write a note.  It wouldn’t be fair to my mom, my little brothers or sister, and it wouldn’t be fair to my family if I didn’t give them a note explaining my pain and to say goodbye.  As I pulled up the notes app on my iPhone I began to type.  “Mom, I am so sorry…” I typed in between sobs so deep I could barely see my phone.  I didn’t get very far before I decided to just call one of my closest friends to tell her what I thought would be a goodbye.

She is not normally up at the midnight hour in which I called her, but that night she was.  Immediately upon answering I sobbed to her that I just couldn’t do it anymore.  She shared her heart for me, her struggle with depression, and assured me in my horrible pain I was not alone.  After about thirty minutes on the phone we hung up and as I sat in my bed going back to writing my suicide note I realized I just couldn’t do it.  The pain didn’t go away, God didn’t remove my suicidal thoughts or my anxiety, and my life situation didn’t change (yet).  I just realized as I wrote my suicide letter to my mom that I had too many letters I needed to write.  As I reflected on that it became clear to me, I needed to get help, and not take my own life.

It is with great sadness that I have to share not every story that begins like mine has an ending where the writer survived.  Most of the letters that start like mine end with spouses, parents, or friends finishing the letter with heartbreak, and devastation.  I share this terribly heartbreaking part of my journey to tell you that God is a miracle healer, but God also uses doctors and the medical field to help Him in miracles too.  I was not free from anxiety and depression after I chose not to end my life, but I did regularly see a counselor and a doctor to help me stay alive for many months after that.  I used medication, prayer, and friends to survive the darkest time in my life and I am not ashamed.  This blog is not to say that the right Bible verse or story, prayer, and some time with God can’t heal someone, because I know they can, but that is not the ending and it wasn’t the answer to my story.

 By the grace of God, I reached out to a friend, a doctor, and because of that I am alive today to share my story with you.  I don’t know if you are struggling in silence and loneliness, but I need you to know if you are reading this that you are not alone.  It may feel like you cannot survive another day.  It may feel like because of your struggle you aren’t a good pastor, mom, Christian, friend, or whatever other role you fill, but that just is not the truth.  If those of us, especially those of us that are pastors or leaders, who struggle with anxiety and/or depression would be open and so bold to share our stories of survival than just maybe we could prevent even one person from taking their own life.  Maybe we can use our stories of survival to share that feeling so hopeless, so dark, so lonely that you can’t find a way out is not a feeling only you have.  You don’t have to feel like you can fight this right now, but you do have to surrender to let someone help you survive it.

National Suicide Prevention Hotline

Call 1-800-273-8255

https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/

Would you prayerfully consider sharing your #survivalstory if you have one?  I would love to see this hashtag and a million stories like mine flood social media.  What could it do for others if we open ourselves up for God to use our stories?

Sincerely,

A pastor with a story of survival.

Chelsea MacAdam

Prove it God, Show Me.

I remember when I was younger, I used to always get in fights with my mom.  We could not have been more opposite when I was in middle and high school.  I used to get very dramatic and although it sounds horrible now, I used to always say, “I am going to kill myself.”  I said it so often that one day my mom said, “GET IN THE CAR”, and proceeded to tell me we were going to the hospital.  I instantly went into a panic, “WHAT, WHY!?”  I screamed.  My mom said something that I will never forget that day.  She explained to me that if I really meant what I said she was going to have me prove it by admitting it to a hospital and checking me in for help.  I could not believe it.  I am pretty sure I never made an empty suicide threat for dramatics to my mother again.

I think faith is similar to my experience with my mom.  I think we get in situations where we ask God to “prove it”.  If He really is who He says, then He needs to prove it.  It seems a little like we are the enemy when he tempted Jesus (Matthew 4:1-11).  I am also convinced sometimes we ask God to prove it without even realizing it we are asking that of God.

“If God really wants me to stay in ministry, He will open lots of doors for me.”  “If God really wants good for me there is no way I won’t get this promotion.”  “God is good so I know this round of IVF can’t fail.”

The concern is not in those statements, as much as it is in our hearts and minds when we are forced to respond to those statements when our prayers are not answered in the way we had desired.  In February I opened up a prayer journal I started three days before my papa unexpectedly passed away.  Each night my prayer read, “God please provide healing to my papa, that is my only prayer.”  My papa passed away after three consecutive nights of that prayer (not to mention the countless nights of prayer for that in the previous months).  The thing is I never once questioned God throughout this grief.  Ironically, that has had me wrestling with faith more than I ever expected.  It has put me in a place where I have thought, “why does this terrible and traumatic situation not make me question God?”

It was in wrestling with this in the last few months that God revealed something to me.  Let me preface this by sharing I do not think God ever needs to prove himself.  I believe that faith will come with questions and doubts which I know God welcomes, but I also believe throughout scripture we see enough of God’s miracles to suffice a foundation of faith that doesn’t require any proving.  But God knows, understands, and comes alongside our humanity enough to “prove it” when we ask, in ways we so seldomly acknowledge when our lives are flipped upside down.

In order to hear my heart, you have to have some context.  In the last 10 months I have been through marital issues, losing a job, losing custody of two children we had full anticipation of adopting but relatives stepped up, & that really is just the major things.  So, in January when my grandpa (who was like a father to me) died completely unexpectedly you would expect my faith to shatter just a little.  In this moment though, God reminded me of a book in the Bible, 1 Kings.

1 Kings 18:33-38

In the 18^th chapter of 1^st Kings God “proves” Himself in fire.  It was a moment where there was NO denying the miracles and presence of God since Elijah made sure the offering was overwhelmed with water so the only way it could burn was if God himself lit it.  Vs 38, “Then the fire of the Lord fell and burned up the sacrifice.”  God decided to “prove it”.  This story in 1^st Kings made me think about all of the “fire” moments God has “proven” Himself to me.  The stories I do not even think about but have been instrumental in reminding me that the God I know is active and alive in my life.  I wonder if, as our walk with God ages, we start to forget about the times “the fire from the Lord fell” and set our lives ablaze with hope.

The pain and grief from losing my papa will forever be a part of my story, but it doesn’t alter or take away the incredible goodness of God and all of the moments He has held me tight as I said, “prove it”, “show me”.  My prayer for you tonight is that amidst deep pain or grief you take moments to think about what has helped solidify your faith.  What are the moments God has sent fire and shown you His faithfulness?  While we ponder and pray over the moments our hearts shatter, let us not forget even in those very moments He is holding it tight.

I love you,

Chels.

Rest in heaven my sweet papa.. I cannot wait to meet you there.

1.25.2019