Esther: Seeing Our Invisible God in an Uncertain Worldনমুনা

How to Lean Into the Unexpected Gift of Feeling Fully

Today’s key verse is Esther 4:1. It says, “When Mordecai learned of all that had been done, he tore his clothes, put on sackcloth and ashes, and went out into the city, wailing loudly and bitterly.” (NIV)

A cheery cupcake caterpillar stood in sharp contrast to the grief that gripped me. My friend Linda was throwing one of the no-holds-barred birthday parties for which she was famous. She was also valiantly facing her last days with cancer. I giggled along with the children partying around me, but I wanted to put my head down and weep.

When I saw Linda heading for the kitchen to grab more food for the ravaged buffet, I followed to plead with her. “Linda, you look so tired. Please, please sit down a minute and rest.”

With a gentle gesture, she laid her hand on my arm. “Amy, this may be the last birthday party that I throw for my son. I truly appreciate your concern, but I’m not resting.”

That poignant memory is over twenty years old now, but because Linda died later that year. My heart breaks even as I read this. I still miss my friend.

There are some losses that never lose their sting. Death ushers in an uncertainty like none other, and there are some hurts that hold on forever. But these are the griefs that can point us straight to the heart of God, connecting us with Him in a way that nothing else does.

In the book of Esther, one of the main characters, Mordecai, grieves deeply and publicly. When he heard that his people were about to be annihilated in an evil plot, instead of hiding his grief or repressing it, Mordecai fully vents his sorrow and distress.

He even tears his clothes as an external cultural expression of deep internal grief that was exhibited by many in Jewish culture. In Joshua 7, Joshua tore his clothes after a defeat in battle. King David rends his clothing after the death of Saul and Jonathon, as told in II Samuel 1. After hearing the Torah for the first time, II Kings 22:11 tells us that King Josiah ripped his clothes over his own sin and those of the people.

That expression of grief may seem strange to us, but it’s an indication they knew God could handle their strongest emotions. After experiencing God’s faithfulness for generations, the Jews knew the One who would hear their cry. They leaned into their feelings and were connected to the heart of God in the process.

I once heard a Christian counselor say that Christians are amongst his hardest patients to treat. It’s because of how we deny our feelings, believing wrongly that faith should protect us from strong, negative emotions. The advice the counselor gave in response is something I’ve been trying to live ever since. “Feel all your feelings,” he told us, “and then lay them at the foot of the cross. Give them to Jesus.”

This is a place where I want to return to my Jewish roots while still loving Jesus, the Jewish carpenter, Himself. We can feel our grief as fully as Mordecai because we who believe have a Savior who can handle our strong emotions. He felt them, too. Our God never changes, but in Jesus, we’re blessed with a gift that Mordecai couldn’t have imagined!

Yesterday, Lynn talked about listening. It’s an important first step, but then we feel, a step that connects our heart to God’s.

Feeling isn’t selfishness. It’s not weakness or a lack of faith. We need not fear our feelings. We can lean into them, experiencing them all fully, without the dread of wallowing, by bringing them to Jesus, our Savior who understands.

Let’s pray together now, asking God to connect our hearts with His through our strong emotions.

Lord, I surrender myself to the goodness of grief, knowing that you’re with me there. Instead of numbing or stuffing it, I will trust You to bring comfort and healing as I feel it fully: In Jesus’ Name, Amen.