Sunday, April 19, 2015

And So It Goes



I thought I was doing pretty well, actually.
It's been two years now.
I have hard days, but overall I keep busy, stay pretty "up" for the most part- even though there are tears intermingled.
Recently, I've been told so many things by well-meaning people.....

"What do you mean still being in a state of grief? Doe this grief make you happy? Why do you grieve? Get on with your life. (In other words - be happy like I am. I get over things immediately and am a puffed up Cheeto!)
"You need to choose the alternative to grief."
"You really need to get on with your life...you're stuck in a rut and need to get out and get on with it."
"Move on. Get rid of the pictures (connotation here:  "Act like Caleb never existed.")
"You post too many things about your son. It's just not right."
"About your blog. Write something different."

Whew.
Talk about getting an earful.
So much advice from those who don't have children or have not had to plan a funeral their child.

Right now I feel sick.
Well-meaning (or not) people are making me tired.

"Be tough. Don't listen to them."
That is true.
I should (be tough, and not listen.)
Somehow I am continually blindsided by people who say hurtful things. These are not people I'd expect hurt to come from - that's why it hurts so much, I guess.

A few simple explanations for the well-intentioned:
Grief is not a choice.
(Oh yeah, there is this one - 'You choose to grieve. Grief is not of God,' they say.) On that comment, I know Jesus is acquainted with our sorrows. He wept at the tomb of his friend, Lazarus. He was filled with compassion.
Grief is a natural response to loss. It is the emotional suffering one feels when something or someone the individual loves is taken away.
Believe it or not, it is gut-wrenching to be separated from your child for the rest of your life. It just is...even if you know you are going to see that child again in heaven.
No, grief does not make me happy (hellooo.) I've read that grief is in proportion to the love you have for the person. I love my son (and all my children) with my whole heart and would have gladly given my life for him (them.)
As for an alternative to grief -
Hmmm...let's see. The alternative to grief would be, not having had the experience in the first place.
If my son was here I wouldn't be experiencing that grief.

There is no time limit on grief, contrary to the popular belief by those who have not experienced it...those who think that after one year life returns to what it was before - to 'normal.' Sorry guys - that's not true, and life won't be back to 'normal' ever again. Grief? I hear (from those in authority-those who are a few years ahead in this journey) we learn to live with it...that it lessens a bit in time, but is always there, and can reappear at any unannounced moment.


My life has changed - period. I am not stuck in a rut, waiting for someone to rescue me from my 'sorry' life. I am making my way day by day, with God's strength (that is something I know, whether anyone believes it or not.) He guides and gives me peace (peace that, I admit leaves when these comments come my way.)

I seem to be the topic of some people's expert opinions, "Oh, we should fix her." Sorry - my life is not governed by your judgment of me. My life is not according to what you think it should be and where it should be going.

If you'd like to be helpful (that's a hard one) just accept me. Walk beside me. Know that I do have a Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, and He loves me with all my faults, and He actually sends me messages everyday! These messages actually help me through every single moment.
He tells me I am not condemned. I am not criticized by him, but he does encourage and walk with me.
He makes me smile through my tears because his joy is my strength.
He loves me unconditionally.
His grace is sufficient for each day.
He guides my steps and makes me lie down in green pastures (not literally.)
He leads me beside still waters, and restores my soul (which is my mind- will, intellect and emotions - smile here please.)

There are days I don't have a lot of energy, but I do what I can. Yes, even on those tough days.
 And I may not be doing what you think I should be doing, but I'll let you in on a secret - you don't know what I do all day because you are not an active participant in my life day in and day out (a bit of laughter accepted here.)
I am thankful I am not where I used to be.

I am a child of the most High God, and knowing that helps me through each day.
Because I am a child of my Heavenly Father, I know heaven will be my home one day (even though I am not perfect - funny I know, but that's right.)
Because I know I am going to heaven, I know I am going to see Caleb again.
Because I know I am going to see Caleb again, I can smile through the tears.
In all of these difficult days, I have hope - because Christ is my Lord and Savior.
So - all in all....through all the 'stuff' of people, and this life
I can stop now, and breathe.
Who matters?
My God.
He is faithful, and will see me through - broken and made whole because of what Jesus did, not because of anything I can do.

Oh, and about my son. I will keep his memory alive the rest of my days. I will talk about him, write about him, have pictures of him, and think about him. No question about it.
And  just so you know, it is normal. I've talked to the experts.

As for my blog....well here it is (drum roll, whistling and clapping will be acceptable here.) Thank you. Thank you very much.


 It's forward on this journey, now...

“We were promised sufferings. They were part of the program. We were even told, 'Blessed are they that mourn,' and I accept it. I've got nothing that I hadn't bargained for. Of course it is different when the thing happens to oneself, not to others, and in reality, not imagination.”
C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Chasing the Sun



There are dark nights, nights with no moon, no stars.
Times where tears fall, and pillows bring no comfort.
Times, when the clock ticks, the chime of the hour repeats hour after hour.

In those times I talk to God, I recite many psalms.
Eventually, slumber falls.

I wake, sometimes before dawn.
There are times when,
the minute my eyes open
I have to get out of bed.

There is an urgency as
I get dressed.
I have to go.....
I have to.

I grab my keys, hurry to my vehicle,
back out of the driveway and drive
east, on the country road and wide open spaces.

I drive in a sense of desperation,
my eyes peeled on the horizon.
I have to be there when it appears.
It's like my life depends on it.

When the bright beginning of a new day peeks over the horizon,
I gasp at the beauty.
I usually pull over and park, but
sometimes I keep driving, as if by driving toward it, I can get closer.
As if I can somehow reach out and touch a bit of eternity.

The brilliant, blinding, beautiful sunrise -
My Maker showing me a glimpse of His splendor.
reminding me of promises of peace, hope, joy.

One more day.
I can do it because He is with me.

Yes, that's how it is.
I have to chase the sun.
I have to experience the miracle of the day.

Whether I actually get in my vehicle and chase the sunrise,
or just go for a walk, and look up as sunlight smiles down on me,
I have to have His presence in my life.
like manna for my day.

The sun.
The Son.

A glimpse of the beauty around me, reminding me that He is
majestic, eternal, and full of life and light -
He knows where I'm at on this journey of life,
and He loves me.
He understands, and cares.

Ah, the smile of the sun.

Almost like I can hear my Father's voice.

"Ah, little darling," I hear Him say,  "Here comes the sun."
~Selah.