Moving beyond shock

On pp. 69-70 of "Good-bye, Mitch," Rebecca Chepokas writes about how her mind began to clear a few weeks after her son Mitch died of cancer:

One chore I could no longer put off was unpacking Mitchell's suitcase from our recent cruise. I began removing new clothing he had never worn and treasures and toys he had not had the strength or time to enjoy. I was flooded with precious memories.

Suddenly, my anguish exploded. On the floor, surrounded by Mitchell's things, my heart shattered. I cried out, 'I want my Mitch back! Lord, I know You are in control of my life, please guide me and give me the strength I need to endure. You created me. Only You know what I am feeling. Tell me, how do I grieve? Please help me, Lord, to understand.'

After regaining my composure, I realized there was a pattern to my frequent emotional eruptions. I recognized the early stage of grieving that I had read about earlier. First was disbelief, followed by the numbing bandage of shock. But this soon ripped away exposing my emotional pain as an open sore, raw and tender.

While I wondered if God was trying to get my attention, an unexpected peace swept over me. God was answering my prayer. He had exposed my pain to grant me understanding. He was showing me, that to be healed, my pain must first be exposed. Only then can I deal with it. Then, how I grieve is my choice to make.

It was a choice He was urging me to make. If I chose to stay in a state of shock, its numbing effect would soon give way to dangerous, all-consuming self-pity and anger. I would be left emotionally crippled with a heartache I was unable to heal.

Rebecca learned that she needed to move beyond shock and go through each stage of grief in order to be healed.