Some Days, I’m Just a Mess

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The other day a conversation about the upcoming holidays devolved into a confrontation.

What I was trying to communicate came out wrong and one thing led to another until I fled- a crying, trembling mess. 

I am trying so hard to manage this life I have left.  

I work out plans in my head to navigate what I know will be challenging events or days or gatherings.  I execute the plan as best I can and when I feel overwhelmed I try to escape to a quiet corner or a bathroom or outside for a moment to regather my composure.

But it doesn’t always work.

There are so many variables-people, lack of sleep, random added stressors, physical pain, grief triggers, and even low blood sugar-any one of which, or a combination of which, can sabotage the carefully constructed plan I’ve made.  

I feel like there are no easy days.  I feel like there are no moments when I don’t have to be on alert.  I feel like I am constantly doing battle.

I stop by the store and meet someone I haven’t seen in awhile.  They ask, “How are you?”

So I go down the line of my living children and give a description of what they are doing-leaving out how they are feeling.  I don’t mention me. The person never notices but I’m reminded again of the disconnect between what others see and what I know to be true.

Sunday’s sermon is taken from a text that could be interpreted to mean that God protects His faithful people from physical harm.  I’m hemmed in by someone on the end of the pew but I want to get up and run from the sanctuary.  

Is my son’s death judgement on my unfaithfulness or on his?

It takes every ounce of self-control I can muster to remain in place.  No one is even aware of the battle raging inside.  

I walk through each day pushing down the pain, shoving aside the rising tide of tears.

I measure my words, measure my reactions, measure my emotions-trying so very hard to keep it in.

I wish I could crawl in bed, cover my head with the blanket and just stay there until this all went away.

But I can’t.

So I muddle through the best I can-hoping that one day I will figure it out.

Probably not today.

 

 

 

 

Earth Has No Sorrow That Heaven Can’t Heal

Another mama who carries the burden of child loss posted a music video on her Facebook wall and it melted me.  

Because when you wake every day to the reality that your beloved child is out of reach you begin to wonder sometimes if there is a sorrow so deep it can never be healed.  

So I listened-over and over-as David Crowder sang truth to my soul: “Earth has no sorrow that heaven can’t heal.” 

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You don’t have to lose a child to feel overwhelmed with the burdens of this life.  

You don’t have to look death in the face to feel death in your bones.

I wish I knew how to embed videos in my posts, but I don’t so here’s the link:  Crowder “Come As You Are”

Listen and let hope fill your soul.

This life is hard.  No denying the truth.  But hold on.

What we see is not all there is.

Come as You Are 

Come out of sadness from wherever you’ve been
Come broken-hearted, let rescue begin
Come find your mercy, oh sinner come kneel
Earth has no sorrow that heaven can’t heal
Earth has no sorrow that heaven can’t heal

So Lay down your burdens, lay down your shame
All who are broken, lift up your face
Oh wanderer come home, you’re not too far
So lay down your hurt, lay down your heart
Come as you are

There’s hope for the hopeless and all those who’ve strayed
Come sit at the table, come taste the grace
There’s rest for the weary, rest that endures
Earth has no sorrow that heaven can’t cure.

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Is Trust an All or Nothing Proposition?

My heart has been grievously wounded. How can that wounding not also become part of my testimony of faith? I can’t pretend that God did not allow something very terrible in my life.

Janet does a beautiful job expounding on the intersection of wounding and trust. I encourage you to read this post-and to follow her blog. It has been, and continues to be, a blessing in my life.

Janet Boxx's avatarBoxx Banter

Counseling-theoriesI reiterated to my grief counselor last week that I trust God for my eternal future and I trust that God will walk me through anything He allows to transpire in my life but that I don’t currently trust Him with my heart.

Ruth responded, “But is that really trust at all?”

I cocked my head to the right and looked her in the eye and proceeded to relate a very poor analogy in support of my position. You see, I knew I believed that trust, like faith, grows over time in every personal relationship, but I wasn’t really prepared with an answer to support my conclusion.

When my daughters were young, on occasion they would be afraid to go to bed fearing that they would have a nightmare. My husband, David, is pretty much a creative genius. He thinks fast on his feet (unlike myself). His immediate response the…

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Repost: When Will You Be Over This?

 

family never gets over the death of a loved oneThink back on the most awful thing that has ever happened to you.

Does it still hurt?  Do you still carry scars from where it pierced your soul and broke your heart?

Can you forget it? Really, really forget it?

Read the rest here:   When Will You Be Over This?

Think Before You Speak, or Post, or Comment…

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Burying a child is teaching me many things:

  • Control is an illusion.
  • What God allows may be very painful.
  • I can choose where to place my trust.
  • God is faithful and His grace is sufficient.
  • Love truly IS what lasts.
  • Relationship matters.

And as I approach what will undoubtedly be a tumultous, fractious and upsetting day for the United States-regardless of how the votes land-I am reminded of these things I’m learning.

My part in this larger landscape is limited.  I get a single vote.  Depending on the margin of victory my vote may matter very little indeed.

But my part in the smaller world of those I love, care about and have relationship with is so much larger.  What I say, how I treat them, if I extend love, grace and mercy–THAT makes a big difference.

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So as we move forward this week, could I please give you advice from a broken heart?

Can I please speak truth that will matter for eternity, not just for a single political cycle?

Do not hurt people in your life because you’ve hitched your wagon to a particular cause or candidate or party.

Don’t play politics with your personal relationships.

Don’t call people names that can’t be taken back, hurt feelings that may never heal or draw lines that make division permanent.

Vote.

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That’s your privilege and, some say, your obligation as an American.

But remember that no matter who wins the White House, the people around your own table are the ones that truly matter.

They are the ones that show up when it counts.

Please don’t throw relationships away in the heat of the moment.

You may never get the chance to undo it.  

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Light Bearers and Candle Snuffers

One of the rituals I observe when the time changes and night closes in so very early is to light a candle each evening in the dark.

I’ve done it for years but now as I do it, I think of Dominic.

It is my small way of declaring the truth that darkness will not win.

It’s my protest against despair and hopelessness that threatens to undo me–threatens to undo ALL of us at one time or another.

Because when I sit in the circle of the glow of that single candle, I’m reminded that no matter how small the flame, darkness cannot overcome the light.

I’m reminded that I can be a light bearer or a candle snuffer.

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I can help others find hope or I can douse the tiny flame that still burns in their troubled heart.

Dominic was a light bearer.

After his death, the University of Alabama newspaper, The Crimson and White ran an article that said in part:

“Dominic was always very mechanically inclined and sort of became the law school mechanic,” close friend and classmate Joe Heilman said. “We are all poor college kids, so when we had questions, we would always go to him. This year alone I think he worked on five different law students’ cars and wouldn’t let them give him any more money than what it cost to replace the part.”

Heilman said Dominic’s selflessness far surpassed that of most people.

“He was one of the most hospitable people that I had ever met,” Heilman said. “I don’t have Internet or cable at my apartment, and when he found that out, he handed me the extra key to his apartment, no questions asked, and just said, ‘Come over whenever.’”

“He was exactly the kind of friend that everyone wants to have and that everyone tries to be,” Jonathan Mayhall, another friend, said.

All my children are light bearers.

They bring light and life to everyone they meet.  They encourage, help and minister to the people in their lives.  They stop for strangers, buy meals for the homeless, show up when friends are moving and put people first.

I encourage you, friend, as these nights get longer and darkness seems so very present-light a candle.

Sit in the circle of its glow and think how bright that little light shines in the black around you.

And remember that we all have the power to be light bearers, no matter how dark the night.

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Repost: Time Change

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Every spring and every fall we dutifully make the rounds to our clocks and digital devices, putting them first forward an hour and then back in an attempt to make the days “longer”.

As if time was in our hands.

The sun rises and sets according to the Creator’s schedule, we can neither speed the world’s turning, nor slow it down. We can only choose whether to be present in the moments He grants us.

Read the rest here:  Time Change

Nothing Left

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These past few weeks have been challenging.

A dozen unrelated things have added up to a load I struggle to carry.

I have absolutely NO reserves.

No extra emotional or physical resources that can help me bounce back when things get tough.

None.

Every day I tread a razor’s edge instead of the broad path I used to walk.

It takes so much effort just to keep from falling off that I have a hard time looking ahead and am regularly blindsided by things I might have avoided, or handled better or made plans to endure.

So I take the hits full force–defenses down. 

I’ve learned to hide it.  Most of the time.  

I’ve learned to lower my eyes, bite my tongue or walk away to catch my breath.

I’ve nearly mastered the art of holding in the tears.

You think I’m strong.  

But I’m not.

You will hardly ever know when my heart is hurting.  

But it is.  

 

 

 

 

 

Another Milestone

I began this blog almost a year and a half into my grief journey.

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At first I wasn’t fully committed to writing on a regular basis.

I certainly never thought I’d write every day.

But this month marks a milestone:  From November 1, 2015 to today I have posted at least once a day.  Not every post original-some reposts of my blog or links to other blogs.

But I’ve shown up.

And it has been helpful to me, even if it hasn’t helped anyone else.

I had been journaling since the day I got the news but was too raw and too hurt to share my thoughts with anyone but God.

Goodness, I’d been journaling for almost 20 years and never expected to share any of it with anyone.  It was my way of working through hard emotions, recording insights and venting things that wouldn’t be helpful for others to hear.

But here I am-letting so much of it out to the world.

Every time I press “post” I still tremble.  Am I saying something helpful? Hurtful? Foolish? Wise?  I never know until I get some feedback.

I appreciate everyone who has commented on or “liked” or shared a post.

It gives me courage to carry on.

My only ambition for this effort is that I remain authentic, faithful and honest about the journey through the Valley of the Shadow of Death.

I want to finish well. I want to make Dominic proud.

It is my way of redeeming the pain.

Thank you for joining me in the journey.

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Repost: Thankful But Broken

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Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday.

My birthday sometimes falls on the day itself, and I have often been able to celebrate with extended family and friends-a full table of food and a full house of fellowship.

I love the colors of fall, the scents of cinnamon and pumpkin, the freedom from gift-giving pressures that lets me focus on the people in my life.

Read the rest here:  Thankful But Broken