A Grief Observed

"No one ever told me that grief felt so much like fear."

Oft quoted, but so true. Grief and fear are so intertwined, I believe, because fear can be the cause of grief, and vice versa.

The intensity of this book was captivating, but almost pushed me away at the same time. The rawness of emotion was something that I did not expect to see. The progression of his thoughts was fascinating to behold. The doubt that he had was eventually overcome by his faith, but it was great insight to see just how fallible we all are, as he realizes that "It's only in our depravity that makes them look black to us."

One of the parts that I really enjoyed actually focused on a little lesson that H. had learned years earlier.

On the other hand, 'Knock and it shall be opened.' But does knocking mean hammering and kicking the door like a maniac? And there's also 'To him that hath shall be given.' After all, you must have a capacity to receive, or even omnipotence can't give. Perhaps your own passion temporarily destroys the capacity.
For all sorts of mistakes are possible when you are dealing with Him. Long ago, before we were married, H. was haunted all one morning as she went about her work with the obscure sense of God (so to speak) 'at her elbow,' demanding her attention. And of course, not being a perfected saint, she had the feeling that it would be a question, as it usually is, of some unrepented sin or tedious duty. At last she gave in—I know how one puts it off—and faced Him. But the message was, 'I want to give you something' and instantly she entered into joy.

 God will always give us what we need, and I believe and hope that Lewis learned that. His love for H. was what he needed them, to teach him, and eventually, even his grief observed could even be a joy.