I have resisted posting lately... as I fight to keep going without my brown-eyed girl... fight to balance grieving with living... fight to find joy around me... fight to "be" the kind of Mom I used to be as I welcome this new son into our lives and home... fight my way out of this cloud that hangs, hangs heavy all around me. If this is truly going to be a place to record the "Life We're Living", then this must be recorded as well. So I'll take you back awhile...
I remember standing in the middle of the kitchen, feeling it boiling up in me... aiming to consume me completely. I had been slowly sinking into the depths of depression by way of grief... unprocessed grief. And so I turned, impulsively, and announced I was "going on a walk".
Heading out the door I wondered what I was doing, but it seemed logical, I just wanted to get away, run away, be away ...away from the pain. At first my goal was separation - removal - escape. Then, as I walked an anger began to burn - not directed to anyone in particular, but to events, to loss, to seperation, to "the end". It's insensity alarmed me, this anger that began to beat in my heart, and pound in my feet, and pulse in my brain. I've known others that got to this place of anger and never came back out. I asked God to help me, please help. I don't know how to "do" this grieving, Father will you teach me? I want out.
It is so foreign to my soul... to my very being... as I used to live so optimistically, and joy used to flow from my being so easily on a regular basis. Not now. Not anymore. I have to fight to sustain it. I wake to sadness that creeps in in the night like a whisp of smoke, untangible, unseen, but I can feel it pressing close... it chokes out my very breath. It's this sadness that makes me feel so lost, where am I, where did I go???
And why would God answer our heart's cry for another child now? We have ached and searched and waited so long... why now... in the middle of grieving, in the middle of loss? I want so much to be all that I used to be - want to mother my new son without the ache of sorrow permeating my every move - want to pour over him all that he never had, that I've waited for so long to give to "our" child. Why would God bring him here now, in the middle of this sadness?
As I pressed on, around the corner, up the big hill... my heart beating with each push of my legs, up the hill - up the hill... I felt some of the weight begin to fall away, and I was reminded that exercise is good for the hurting soul. There was a break in the darkness. "Take care of your body". It wasn't audible, but I knew the lesson was from Him. While my heart heals, while He tends to the brokenness, it's my job to take care of my body. Work it hard everyday - shed some of the stress from the sadness.
Wondering if I even could run anymore, I picked up my speed until I was running. Feet pounding, lungs gasping, and legs aching I just kept going. I ran until my side burned hot, and I didn't stop. I noticed for the first time in a long time that I was actually feeling something that wasn't sad. And I began to cry... finally. Those tears were like a washing to my soul - renewing me with each drop as my heart released more of the brokenness... and I realized that this was part of His lesson to me: "It's OK to cry, it's part of the process, and those tears are healing you". My heart felt lighter.
Slowing to walk, He began to speak, and whisper to my soul once again; as I pushed on over the hill, there was renewal once again, doesn't He always bring about renewal? "What looks bad can be good, and what looks good can sometimes be bad." Those were the words I learned months ago in a sermon. But they had implications that ran deep in my spirit that day. "Whatever happens, we can know it's for our good." Had I even thanked Him?
Oh, God... forgive me. I thought I knew best. What looks good can be bad. I wonder what you might have been doing that I have missed because I forgot to thank you? I wonder what you might have protected us from? I had missed it, because I was focused on what I wanted, and what I thought was best. And this boy child? A son? It's just now that it's sinking in... as I get to know him... as my heart learns to love him... he's going to be ours!
Oh, how God knows what he's doing! This new boy of ours needs to run, has to run everyday... it helps him settle... helps him with his grief... helps him heal... imagine that. A new Mommy, and a new son - both grieving - and they just happen to need the same exact prescription for healing. And so we are healing together, one day at a time.
And as I celebrate each new smile, each minute more of a relaxed and settled child... I look in the mirror... and I check the clock... and I realize that He is healing me, too. I caught myself smiling in that mirror. And I realized that there has been some joy today, that I didn't have to work at. I'm finding strength as I fight back against this depression, fight for my family, and myself, and my faith. And He is healing me as I run... to Him. Everyday I wake to the heaviness... and I choose to fight back. And I choose to gather my children up and run... out the door, and straight into my Saviors arms.
This the life I'm living. And it's going to be okay again...
