There I sat in the hotel lobby, next to the fireplace, eating my waffle I had just made at the free continental breakfast when I became acutely aware of the background music: Jack Johnson’s, “Better Together.”
I already felt a vulnerable sitting on the couch alone, trying to distance myself from the crowded dining hall filled with families, so the song just added a dagger in my heart.
Here I was, trying to stay cool and collected, while enjoying the oversized fireplace. Instead, I ended up more quickly eating my waffle and blinking a lot so I wouldn’t be the crying girl on the couch. I guess if it turned into that, the conversation could be interesting but still not my goal for the morning.
It’s hard to prepare for grief or even what to expect in the process. There are times when I should expect the emotions rise up more and other times of surprise emotions that appear when least expected. This morning was the surprise kind.
Currently, I can easily say life was better when Josh and I were together, but only focusing on this can keep me stuck and I know God has more for me. Thinking more on the idea of better, the first part of Psalm 84:10 comes to mind.
“Better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere.”
One day in God’s court is better than any I could ever have or imagine with Josh. This understanding doesn’t take away the hurt of Josh not being here but it does help shift my gaze a little.
Maybe today, instead of only dwelling on the words of Jack Johnson’s Better Together, I will instead listen to Better is One Day by Matt Redman. Both will probably make me cry for the same and different reasons.
Sidebar: Saying things like “they are in a better place” to someone grieving doesn’t help. While there is truth in it, we still want them here with us, fully healthy. Another thing to say is “tell me what you miss most.”
Hi! It's Jenn Brown, writing my story that is now slightly different as we enter a season of new grief. On September 30, 2019, my dear husband Josh passed away after battling brain cancer.