Is Grief All There Is After Death?

After someone we love has died, grief overwhelms us. It's almost like a living organism that wraps itself around us. This organism grips our stomachs and makes it nearly impossible to eat. It invades our hearts, sometimes causing them to beat irregularly. We ache from the intensity of the organism's grip, but often times we can't even determine where exactly it hurts-perhaps because in some ways it hurts everywhere. Grief carries a lot of weight, so when it attaches itself to us, we look different, we walk differently, we breathe differently. So the question is, Do we ever break free of the grip grief has on us? If so, how and when?

The answer that comes to my mind immediately is, Yes, we do break free, if we are willing to do so. Some people cling to grief, long after grief has loosened its grip on them. Sometimes people will wear grief like a comforting blanket because it allows them certain freedoms upon which they become dependent. Grief offers us the freedom to cry whenever we need to, which is good and important. We might need to cry a lot, and if the intensity of the pain lingers, we might find ourselves needing to cry a lot for a long time. But when our grief (after it has subsided) becomes a license to cry whenever we want, over whatever we want, for however long we want, it is an abuse of that freedom. Grief offers us the freedom to be angry for a time, but when we consider it a right that we cling to for years, we make everyone around us miserable. We who are grieving are often given leeway when it comes to responsibility, but we ought not take it to a point of thinking it is now our perogative to be irresponsible. When we take the freedom that grief offers us and abuse those freedoms, we become prisoners of our own self-destructive behavior and attitudes. When that happens, we are unable to break free to enjoy life.

So, in some sense, we choose when grief no longer controls our lives. Grief will always be there, especially when the loss is someone who was very significant to us, but we don't have to let it always have the say in the quality of our life. When it comes to how we break free from grief's grip, we also can have a choice. Sometimes, however, it just happens.

The first moment I felt a slight release came only days after Jacob died. A friend of ours was in China on a business trip at the time of Jacob's accident. His wife had called him in China to give him the news, and he decided to call us at home. He spoke with my husband, Michael. After discussing the awful details of Jacob's death and accident, our friend began sharing funny thoughts and memories of Jacob with my husband. I didn't hear what he was saying, but I heard my husband laughing. That laughter came as such a shock, but I was thrilled to hear it. Not just anyone could make my husband or me laugh at that moment, but that particular friend certainly could. He had always made us laugh in the past, and he was able to do it, even in our darkest hour. That laughter gave me unbelievable hope that grief would not have its stranglehold on me forever.

Another clear moment of feeling grief's release came four or five days after Jacob's death. I learned that the mother of a classmate of Jacob's had experienced a vision. In the vision, Jacob came to her as a young boy and said to her, "Tell my mom I'm okay, and I'm learning a new dance, and I'm dancing with Jesus!" I didn't have to receive her story as a word of comfort. In fact, I could have been angry about the fact that SHE had the vision and not me. But thankfully, I saw it as a sign of hope and a message from Heaven. Those words had profound meaning to me, and this mother could not possibly have known why the exact words she shared were important. In fact, no one other than Jacob and my husband could have known. Since my husband hadn't been out of my sight since Jacob's death, I knew he had not told anyone the details that came out in that vision.

You see, the day before Jacob died, I cried in front of him and said, "How does a parent let go of a child (due to death), how does a mother ever let go of her son?" I spoke those words that day because Jacob's classmate had died. A.J. died of bone cancer that morning, September 23, 2006. I was standing next to Jacob when he received the news. My husand, Jacob and I all prayed for A.J. and his family. It was after the prayer that I broke down and spoke those words to Jacob. I even apologized to him for being so emotional, but he said he understood and that it was okay. The fact that, in her vision, Jacob said to this mother, "Tell my mom I'm okay," was an indication to me that he remembered how it hurt me to think about losing a son. He wanted to comfort me.

Another detail from the vision that was a clear indication that it was real was Jacob's reference to a "new dance." That very same day that Jacob's classmate died, he informed my husband and me for the first time in his life that he liked to dance. We were stunned! Our Jacob liked dancing?! What a complete surprise! He then pulled out his cell phone and played a video clip he took at a dance club earlier that week. He even pulled it out and showed it to me again the next day, the day he died. Why would he randomly say, "I'm learning a new dance" in that vision? He mentioned the dancing because it had been a part of our conversation that weekend, and he knew we'd remember. He also mentioned he was dancing with Jesus. The morning of his accident, Jacob and I were talking about Heaven and what it would be like. We had talked about Heaven the day before as well after he received news of A.J.'s death. We talked about how amazing it would be to see Jesus face to face.

I wasn't expecting or looking for someone to come to me with a vision of Jacob. Dreams of Jacob were already starting for me, but I did not expect other people to be having dreams or visions. My dreams were powerful and very meaningful, but they were to be somewhat expected given that my mind was constantly thinking of him every waking moment. The person who had the vision was the mother of a classmate who hadn't probably spoken directly to Jacob since he was in elementary school (which is why it makes perfect sense to me that he would appear as a younger child to her). She and I knew each other, but hadn't been in contact with one another for years, despite living only a few miles apart.

Grief was still overwhelming for several months to come, but experiences like this woman's vision helped to comfort me and loosen grief's grip. Knowing that God exists in the spiritual realm, I knew it was completely possible that God could do anything he wanted in that realm to reach out and comfort me. At the same time, I was very guarded because evil also has its place in the same realm. Scripture clearly states that Satan will disguise himself as an angel of light to deceive us. My prayers were continually asking God to give me wisdom and discernment, but to also give me eyes to see and ears to hear, because I did not want to miss a single thing He had for me. And open my eyes and ears HE DID!!!! Had I slammed the door shut on that vision and said it was completely from Satan, I would have missed the sweetest gift of healing God had brought to me.

Those gifts just kept on coming too! I experienced many of them, but they also came from all kinds of different people, people whom I trusted. They were also people who were not looking for these things. One friend, an ordained member of the clergy, stated he had never experienced a vision before in his life, but one morning as he was getting out of bed to have his daily time of prayer and reading, he had a very vivid vision of Jacob. Through it, he had a sense of the work Jacob might now be doing, at least in part. Jacob communicated to him, but telepathically rather than verbally, that he was having the time of his life in Heaven. Our friend said Jacob looked like a million bucks, and when he moved, his feet never touched the ground. Jacob's body moved effortlessly.

Grief is natural and it's important for us to walk through it. Grief, oddly enough, can serve a purpose that is helpful to us. Even for those of us who fully believe that life goes on and we will see our loved ones again, grief is very real. To brush over the grief process because our faith says that life continues even after death is scary to me. It denies the grief that comes from the temporary, yet horrific, separation, especially when it has come suddenly and out of the natural order of things. A parent never expects to bury a child. When a child dies, all the hopes and dreams you had for your future with that child are shattered. To expect someone to simply get past that is ridiculous and cruel.

I don't want to magnify grief, but I also don't want to minimize it. Grief has its place, but it doesn't have to take up residence in that place for the rest of our lives. Focusing on the blessings of having those loved ones in our lives is helpful. Over time, it's important to begin to look for positive ways to keep the loved one's light burning through us by serving others and carrying out a dream the loved one had. Turning our energy from grieving to living is the most important and helpful step we will ever take. Grief will define who we are for a time, but we don't need to let it define us for the rest of our lives. Today, I am still a mother who grieves the loss of her son, but I am so much more than that.

Other people's stories have served to encourage me tremendously. If you would like to learn more about my personal experiences since Jacob's death, you can always visit the memorial website I created: http://jacobnyenhuis.memory-of.com/. Another place where you can read other people's accounts is: http://adcrf.org/ADC%20Stories.htm I certainly don't claim that every person's account is true, accurate or from God, but many of them are extremely encouraging and might be helpful. You may begin to recognize the gifts intended for you that you simply missed before. Another source of powerful stories is the book Hello From Heaven. You can learn more about that book here: http://www.after-death.com/ Blessings to all of you!