This book arrived at my house on the day my husband died. Even though I had pre-ordered this book in February for multiple reasons, preparing for my husband's death in April was not one of them. For me, that timing said to me that God saw me, loved me, was and is with me in the grief, that I have permission to grieve however I need and for as long as I need.
I had pre-ordered the book for multiple reasons:
I already knew I liked Park's writing from buying his first book 'the voices we carry' and from following his instagram account for quite some time now.
I also got two preview chapters (so I actually started reading this online back in February) and some helpful checklists, etc., that I didn't know then that I would need in April.
I/we had grieved the deaths of 8 people close to us in just 5 years, mostly to various odd and rare cancers. My nephew in March and husband in April died of their different cancers, adding to the total. When my recent previous book reviews mentioned reading during a time of tragedy, now you know why.
It's a must read for ALL chaplains, pastors, hospice folks...anyone who works with people who experience grief.
For those of us who grieve: it depends. I don't think Park would disagree with that. The whole premise of the book is that each of us has permission to grieve and for some, reading this book won't be what they need. One reader was grieving the death of his wife and felt only two chapters spoke to him. The rest seemed to him to be more about Park's narrative as a chaplain to the grieving and dying. I, and a mom whose child had died, on the other hand, felt comforted, affirmed, loved throughout the book.
Why might I feel that way? I'm a reader. Narratives speak to me. I do read "how to" books (this is not a "how to" book), but I more often read narratives, fiction and non-fiction. When a narrative in this book was more grievous than what my family went through, I channeled my grief into grief for that family or person. At other times, the narratives named what I was feeling such as chapter one: the loss of future dreams. I'm thankful that my helper driven husband was able to help into the future with the fight against cancer by enrolling in the Stanford Research Autopsy Center, another gift from God. So, yes, we have a future hope on the other side of eternity, but what Park so capably does is show how Pocket Theology cliches rob us of our time of grieving. And, his writing...I know some do not care about beautiful writing at a grieving time, but I soaked it in. This is a crucible of the fire writing: gold or a most precious gem.
Park's narratives also struggle through the pain of losing a small faith, a faith that only walks in Easter Sundays and doesn't admit how many more days are Easter week Fridays and Saturdays, but chaplaincy has shown him the times when the physical pain truly is too much, the trauma unexplainable.
(So, you can figure my mom is not going to read this book. Park includes the trigger warnings at the beginning of each chapter so that you can make an informed decision whether to read the chapter or not.)
Park also works through not giving up on his faith. He can not go back to being an atheist, but how does he move forward. It's that second command: Love others. The love of others. Others being present to the dying and the grieving. Being present without making the time worse. And, Park reveals the times when he messed up big time.
The book is also about grieving other losses, and some readers might not appreciate his chapters on loss of mental health, loss of worth, loss of autonomy, loss of humanity, loss of connection.
As for me, I will read the book again...and probably again. I take to heart Park's final chapter: Every Wound is a Calling.
"Across the ocean or at our front door, every wound is a calling...I only know at the foot of this hospital bed, I seek the face of God in my patient. And in my patient's face, the face of God is seen. In a world of horrors, what is holy is continuing to see the sacred in another. I see you. Name your pain. Validate your wound. Call forth all you need, as long as you need, to grieve angry and to pursue repair. If you needed permission, here it is...."
And a prayer Park includes on that same last page:
"May we seek the face of God in our neighbor. May we move in our lanes given. May our bodies find healing in every way they can. May our hands be for reaching, to build gardens, not walls. We cannot do it all, but first we listen. We get rest in, and we press in."