Hope and the Single Woman

By Tracie Lobstein

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him.”
(Romans 15:13 NIV)

In Mark 5:25-34, we read the story of a woman filled with hope—a hope for healing. She had experienced a medical life event 12 years prior and had been hemorrhaging ever since. We didn’t get to see the level of vibrancy she had before the bleeding began. But her condition would have left her in a physically weak state, shaped her lifestyle, and placed limits on her. With no home remedy to heal herself, she put her hope in others and went broke. 

Like the hemorrhaging woman, many women experience a sudden life event that brings about unwelcome change. For me, it was when I found myself alone. I didn’t have a physical ailment challenging me, but every day revolved around how I would face the daunting alone time each evening. I had never lived alone before and had always come home to someone to tend to, serve, and communicate with—to a relationship.

My struggle was emotional. It doesn’t seem to compare to the hemorrhaging woman’s condition, but out of hope, I, too, began reaching to others. She reached out to doctors because of a medical need. That made sense. I reached out to friends, hoping to find a substitute for the relationship I lacked. At the time, that made sense, too.

The expenses I incurred by constantly meeting friends for dinner, movies, and entertainment forced me to stop my pursuit. Being broke, the hemorrhaging woman’s pursuit also came to a stop. Still alone in despair, she heard Jesus was nearby. Fueled by the hope of being whole, she moved into action again. But this time, in a different direction. She put forth all her strength to reach through the force of a crowd to touch Jesus’s clothes. At the end of her reach was the Spirit.  

I, too, shifted the direction of my reach from active friendships to Jesus. My friendships remained valuable and didn’t cease, but I no longer put my hope in them. My hope was in the Lord, and my relationship with Him began to flourish.

Hope moves us forward, keeps us connected, strengthens our weariness, and opens the door for God’s power. The God of hope has the power to provide the experience we yearn for—the desire to be whole after being broken.  

Pause and consider the direction in which you extend your reach.

‘‘Grateful Yet Grieving’’

FREE ebook by Pam Luschei | Click HERE To Download

Grow from our Grief

Every spring, I take online courses to complete my continuing education units for my license as a therapist. I took an online course with grief expert David Kessler this past month.  In the video, he said, “What we run from pursues us. What we face transforms us.”  Such a powerful statement.

It’s normal to want to run from the depths of pain as we grieve. We want to run, numb, deny, ignore, and suppress. There are a variety of ways to run: drinking, shopping, eating, cleaning, staying busy, gambling, and every other behavior that keeps us from feeling.

For some of us, we’ve been taught to keep our feelings to ourselves. Or, as the saying goes, “sweep it under the rug.” The image of sweeping something as massive as our grief under a rug creates a picture of trying to hide Mt. Everest under a rug. It would appear that hiding it does not make it go away.

A few years ago, I was bike riding in Yosemite National Park. I had almost made it to the rental return kiosk when I suddenly fell off the bike. I felt the pain in my right ankle immediately. I knew I needed to get some ice to put on my ankle. The ice offered some relief as I sat on a bench, elevating my leg.

Fast forward, three weeks later, I was still feeling pain, so I went for an X-ray and received some physical therapy. As the physical therapist manipulated my ankle, it initially caused pain. He apologized and then said, “The pain is there to tell you’re healing.” Pain is part of the process. Like healing our bodies, there is no hiding, skipping, bypassing, or avoiding the pain in our grief journey.

It goes something like this: “We deal, then we feel, and we can heal.”

Dealing involves allowing ourselves to look at our loss and taking the first step into feeling. Feeling our emotions allows us to process, experience, and name our feelings: sadness, anger, frustration, guilt, helplessness, and fear. By letting ourselves feel, we can begin to lessen the pain and move toward healing. The opportunity to let our grief transform us awaits. In our own time and own way, we can grow from our grief.

‘‘Grateful Yet Grieving’’

FREE ebook by Pam Luschei | Click HERE To Download