Holy Grief?

For more than two months, we offered our home, food and other resources to a divorced mom and her child. While challenging to share a home with anyone else, we thought we made it easy with simple rules about keeping dangerous things off the floor for our dog, not eating meals in the guest room and keeping certain doors closed.

Repeatedly, simple requests were met with backlash and gaslighting. I was called “militant” in our home care the second week she lived here. I rebuked it, of course. We simply respect nature and ants will invade if crumbs are left on the counter. We clean things when dirty and do our best to be good stewards with what we have been given. Over the next month, that seemed to be accepted and peace had seemingly been restored long before we left for our vacation.

We returned from our vacation to chaos and destruction in our home. Our sweet Stormy was vomiting up chocolates and things obtained from the guest suite. I won’t share all the photos of chaos, but this one reflects what caused our dog’s distress. The top photo was Sunday, 8/24/25: Stormy vomited the white truffles and we continue to find little pieces of tinfoil and other garbage in his hiding places.

The bottom photo shows the floor Monday morning. Clearly, a handful of trash was removed. That was the only thing cleaned up before she left Monday for work.

While at work on Monday, I prayed for more wisdom to proceed. The details are irrelevant, as the Good Lord gave US a plan together, as we discussed the situation in our master bedroom the evening prior. I knew whatever I did needed to meet with God’s Approval and my husband’s understanding. I was praying for help with MY PART of the plan God gave US.

Yessir!!! God will change a plan in the blink of an eye.

1 Corinthians 15:52. Yes and Amen!!!

Roughly two hours before closing, I was nudged to call our “tenant” and request the two bags worth of food garbage be removed from our guest suite. I asked for the filthy stained sheets from the guest suite and for them to be left in our laundry room for my attention. I reminded her of the three basic conditions for living under our roof and how she had broken all three in dramatic fashion. The call turned ugly.

I confess, the wrath which poured out of me Monday night did not make me feel sick. In fact, I felt “clean” the minute the call ended. It felt as if I had removed my body from a toxic chemical spill and just showered in those “clean rooms”. I know all too well how human anger has made me sick in the past. All that being said, my son’s perception of that wrath in the moment and how it impacted him broke my heart a wee little bit.

Praise God, we have since discussed since Rachel moved out on Tuesday afternoon. Originally, she was planning to be here another two months. Extra praise for cutting the exposure to chaos in half! Somewhat poetically, I was removing weeds in the front yard when they drove away. The minute her U-HAUL pulled away, the entry code was changed for our home. The house had been cleaned and restored to proper order. My son understood that sometimes, it takes dramatic tone to be a catalyst for change.

Ultimately, it was in her best interest to leave and we want the best for them. Still, we are not called to enable bad behavior, either. We are called to earn our way, period. 💜✝️💜

I have shared with both of my kids various things they have taught me in the past month. I probably need to make a list for the big lessons they have taught me. That’s for another day.

Simply put, returning home to so much chaos with so much peace and joy in my heart broke me wide open. To the world, it may have looked like I lost my temper. But in truth, what poured out of me that Monday night was not mine — it was His.

It has taken several days to sift through the debris and allow Him to direct my thoughts. How sweet it is to KNOW the peace I felt Monday night after raising my voice is so integrated to the peace I feel in this moment. Both come from Him. After such an intense lesson at his footstool, it’s rather glorious to literally have perfect peace on Shabbat. Shalom Shalom! 💜✝️💜

Thank you, Father God, for teaching me so much about Holy Grief this past week. It was holy anger, born of holy grief. I carried the weight of their disorder, neglect, and felt tormented by my responsibility to ensure safety for all under our roof. My heart was to protect YOUR CHILDREN and to be a good steward of what you have given our family. But, my heart can also get me into trouble and we both know it. It’s been a hard heart lesson, indeed.

The depth of that grief had been settling deep in my body for weeks. You clearly allowed it to manifest in my throat, in my voice, on my body and allowed me feel “sick with YOU”. May I always remember these “three sick days” as an honor and a blessing. Please keep breaking my heart for the things which break yours. Those tears are cleansing and good, as they come from you.

I was grieving the things that break your heart, and I could not carry it silently anymore. It is easy to see that simple truth today. I could never carry it alone. So, thank you for carrying me through this lesson so gently.

And when “all of it “ came out, it came out as wrath. Not petty frustration. Not selfish irritation. But the cleansing kind of wrath that overturns tables. The kind of wrath that clears out what doesn’t belong so YOUR SPIRIT can dwell in peace. Thank you for revealing the necessity, at times, for dramatic cleansing.

In the moment, it looked dramatic. It looked messy. But afterward, the air was clear. Peace returned. Only YOUR ANGER can deliver so much MERCY. Thank you for removing obstacles in any form. Thank you for teaching me that holy anger and holy grief aren’t things to be ashamed of — they are part of YOUR “Holy ToolKit” in restoring what is broken. Your wrath is restoring me.

As I inhale this fresh breath, I feel like there is a double rainbow above our home.

As I exhale, the promises held in our covenant are all that mater. Thank you a bajillion times over for all you have given us. I love, love, LOVE you.

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