It's going to be hot.
But there is a threat of rain.
It amazes me how quickly our weather can change.
The day will begin gorgeous and turn to torrents of rain in a moment.
That volatility is what I feel with my emotions.
Some days I am strong.
I can make it through.
I breathe deep and I can feel the power of the Holy Spirit giving strength.
Other days I am consumed with a deep stabbing ache.
Grief is hard work.
Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
Our country; the church, have done a shameful thing in rushing those who grieve.
People don't know how to deal with our raw emotions.
They do not want to talk about it.
They think we should be "over it" by now.
People have told me they are uncomfortable.
Between my mom, Elijah and cancer, they don't know what to say.
Most of the time words are not needed.
Just reminding us we are not alone is a good place to start.
Showing up and working through the tough times.
That's what is needed.
God understands the direction our paths need to take.
We need to be open and ready.
The rain came and renewed the earth.
You could feel the cool air.
There is a quietness after a heavy rain.
I walk out to the fence line.
The rain enhances the colors.
The greens are so vibrant.
The sparkle in the water droplets mesmerizing.
I breathe deep.
I look around.
I walked out here the morning after Elijah's funeral.
I walked barefoot.
I just wanted to feel.
So raw.
I stand here today; almost a year later.
I still don't know what the future holds.
I feel more unsure of things than I ever have.
Except for this.
I know that we are held.
There is a plan.
A hope so sure; solid ground even when it feels like there is none.
2 Timothy 4:7-8
I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day--and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing.
They do not want to talk about it.
They think we should be "over it" by now.
People have told me they are uncomfortable.
Between my mom, Elijah and cancer, they don't know what to say.
Most of the time words are not needed.
Just reminding us we are not alone is a good place to start.
Showing up and working through the tough times.
That's what is needed.
God understands the direction our paths need to take.
We need to be open and ready.
The rain came and renewed the earth.
You could feel the cool air.
There is a quietness after a heavy rain.
I walk out to the fence line.
The rain enhances the colors.
The greens are so vibrant.
The sparkle in the water droplets mesmerizing.
I breathe deep.
I look around.
I walked out here the morning after Elijah's funeral.
I walked barefoot.
I just wanted to feel.
So raw.
I stand here today; almost a year later.
I still don't know what the future holds.
I feel more unsure of things than I ever have.
Except for this.
I know that we are held.
There is a plan.
A hope so sure; solid ground even when it feels like there is none.
2 Timothy 4:7-8
I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day--and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing.
I agree with you completely. One month after my dad died suddenly I received a note that said "Sorry to hear about your dad, hope things are back to normal" My thought was normal? things will never be normal again. rlutz
ReplyDeleteI think phrases like "back to normal" are spoken by folks that have never lost. Never will the world be normal again. We all need to live with the love and grace given so freely to us. Thanks for commenting sweet friend.
DeleteMy sister lost her only child at the age of 18. For years we didn't know what to say. Now we talk about her daughter and share memories. My sister has been so patient with us. You're right, grief is hard work, and takes a long time. So often we don't know what to say to those who are mourning. But just because we don't know what to say doesn't mean we don't care:)
ReplyDeleteThank you for your posts and sharing your memories and insights and love.
im still mourning the lost baby. we buried her by the stream and i think and think about that never-to-be child. i wonder sometimes, why dont we mourn miscarrages, or talk about them in our culture... and thern i feel that noone wants to talk about them, and why should i mention it to mothers, to other women.. its too frightening, too sad.. well, its also reality... our children sometimes do not make it. i feel crazy and alone in this mourning. then i read your words, and i know that YOU KNOW. thank you Tammy. thank you and Bless You.
ReplyDelete