How to Build a Grief Bunker

A place of safety. That’s what I need. A place where I can take cover until the storms and attacks of loss and grief have passed. 

I’ll build a bunker. Should be easy enough.

Today I’ll just rest here in my safe place. Hide out here alone. Wrap myself in TV reruns, old songs on the radio, faded photos spread across the table.

Even if I cry or cry out, it’s easier here. 

I know the world doesn’t want me. I’m worn out and weary. It’s just exhausting to even try to be part of what’s happening out there.

I’ll just stay here. Where I feel safe and comfortable. Where I can create my own reality.

My sadness is my sadness. No one else understands what this grief is like for me.

So I’ll just sit here in my sadness. I’ll wrap my grief around me and just hunker down. They say it will pass. I have my doubts. Maybe I can just stay here forever.

My Bible? Oh, it’s over there on the table. I’ll read it later.

My family? Oh, they just don’t understand how hard this is. I’ll talk to them later.

My life? Oh, it’s over now. Without my husband, I have nothing left to enjoy. I’ll just sit here by myself.

One day flows into the next. Tomorrow never comes. Yesterday is a drug. It’s like my own party where I’m the host and the guest.

Didn’t Pastor Jason just tell me something about parties? That’s right. He said, “The enemy loves to cater pity parties.”

Wait. I can’t let the enemy into my bunker! He doesn’t belong here. 

He wants me to give up. 

With the help of God, I’m not giving in. I’m not giving up. I will never give up! I have to rise up against the enemy and his arsenal of temptations.

God has so much more for me! Outside of this bunker I’ve built. My job is to trust and obey him. He’ll take care of the details.

I’m climbing out of here today. And I may have to do that every day. But I know that it is worse to hide than it is to hurt.

Help me, Lord. Help me to be all you want and need me to be. Help me to follow hard after you instead of falling into self-pity. Help me to let go of more of my past so I can make more room for you in my present. 

Help me to know, Lord, that you are my safe place. Safer than any bunker I can ever build.

Lord, I love you. Order my minutes, hours, days.

Help me be faithful to you, Lord, instead of a slave to my grief.

“For you are my hiding place; you protect me from trouble. You surrounds me with songs of victory. The Lord says, ‘I will guide you along the best pathway for your life. I will advise you and watch over you.’” (Psalm 32:7-8)