grace given me

If you’ve been following along with my blog, then you know my brother-in-law, Jim, recently passed away. Last week, I got to spend some special one-on-one time with my sister. She is mourning the love of her life, her best friend, her children’s father, her daily companion, and the dreams they held for the future. The time with my sis was soul-binding time. I got to hug on her, sit with her, walk with her, talk with her, cry with her. Just be with her. There is no right or wrong way to grieve, but the way she’s allowing both sorrow and grace to coexist has left a mark on me. She’s feeling and expressing this great loss, yet she’s also putting one foot in front of the other. She’s laughing at funny stories, reminiscing over old photographs and memories, and spending time with family and friends. 

There have been heartbreaking moments—like when she reached for Jim’s favorite chips at the grocery store, only to realize she no longer has him to buy them for. And there will be more moments like that. But I pray that in her desperate moments, she keeps turning to God, because it is said: Blessed are those who mourn.

In fact, The Beatitudes in Matthew 5:3-12 say:

3. “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
4. Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.
5. Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.
6. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.
7. Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.
8. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.
9. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.
10. Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
11. Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account.
12. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven,”

Why would Jesus say those in such painful, desperate situations are blessed? Poverty, mourning, hunger, meekness, persecution—these don’t feel like blessings. And yet, Jesus spoke these words with divine intention. If Jesus spent much of his time remedying these very conditions—feeding the hungry, healing the sick, raising the dead, lifting the oppressed—what could he possibly have meant?

The Greek word here for “blessed” is makarios and it implies a deep, spiritual happiness or divine approval. In The Jesus I Never Knew, Philip Yancey writes, “Any Greek scholar will tell you the word ‘blessed’ is far too sedate and beatific to carry the percussive force Jesus intended. The Greek word conveys something like a short cry of joy, ‘Oh, you lucky person!’” Wait, what?! Lucky?

Jesus is looking to turn our understanding upside down—because the kingdom of God turns the world upside down. The world says: Blessed are the strong. Blessed are the wealthy. Blessed are the powerful. Blessed are the admired. But Jesus says: Blessed are the desperate. Because in their desperation, they’re brought face to face with the truth—they cannot rely on the world, and they can no longer depend on themselves. That’s their advantage. That’s the invitation. They are positioned to receive God’s help—his presence, his comfort, his blessings. They are postured to encounter heaven.

We can’t begin to comprehend the staggering rewards of heaven. So we settle for what we see—money, fame, beauty, achievement. We assume that’s what blessing looks like. But often, those very things block us from heaven’s rewards. They harden us to our need. They disguise our spiritual lack. By contrast, sorrow, repentance, longing, dependence—these become gates into the kingdom. When desperation opens the door—whether through sorrow or surrender—it leads to something deeper. Peace in him now. Hope in the midst of pain. And the promise of unimaginable joy on the other side. For “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” (Revelation 21:4)

Lord, you are high and lifted up, worthy of all praise. Thank you that you value us and respond to our sorrow. It is said you collect every one of our tears. You promise sorrow will not have the final word. Thank you that when we feel our most fragile, you are your most faithful. I take shelter in your word: “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” (Psalm 34:18) You see us in the dark, you meet us in our desperation, and you offer hope, peace, love. The things of this world—both good and bad—will fade away. But your kingdom in heaven will last forever. I am in awe that one day, we will join you there. Amen.