David and Lara's Adventures

Our journey through life, infertility, and adoption

Saturday, March 12, 2011

A new stage

I promise that not every blog post will always be about grief. It just happens to be what is on my heart, most of the time. I have entered a new stage lately in my grief process. It is the, oh my, this really happened, and there is nothing I can do to change it stage. I’m sure there is a much better name for it, but I think mine is much more descriptive. (Cue sly smile)

I have laid awake the last few nights almost marveling at the way my brain is trying to understand my loss. I repeat the same images over and over again, almost trying to convince myself of my new reality without my dad. I feel like there is a Mr. Magoo is my head (with his bottle top glasses, looking ever so closely) picking up the pieces of me, inspecting them, dusting them off, and trying to put them back together. I have shifted from the I miss him (like I haven’t seen him in a few months) to the I miss him like I will never see him again. And it breaks my heart every time. Donna (my wonderful step-mom) brought my “dad” to visit me. I decided to keep him, during his “visit” in the baby room, since that is where he would want to be. I walked him upstairs, sat in the rocking chair, and wept harder than I ever have. I clutched that urn full of burned remnants of my dad, and really mourned what I was actually losing. Not just a dad, but a grandpa for my child.  And while I was rocking back and forth one name came to mind and I repeated it over and over…Jesus.* Jesus, the one who heals, who is there, and who washes over us again and again.

I keep listening to a song by Jimmy Needham called the Gospel. The lyrics talk about just letting the words of the Gospel wash over us. I have run in the opposite direction of the peace that awaits me in the arms of Jesus. I feel too broken to be peaceful. But, then, Jesus waits, watches, and walks just by my side. I remember my friend, Veronica, after losing her husband, writing that God would rather us yell at Him, than not be speaking at all. (You can read her story at Everyday Kings) I like that, mostly because I am doing my fair share of yelling. So, here we are, yelling, pleading, and wanting desperately to be able to stand on our own two feet again. And sometimes forgetting just to be silent, and be calmed by our Creator. I especially like what the song says here:

The Gospel, the Gospel
Fragrance in words
The sea of my soul
Is calmed when it’s heard
Peace to the broken
The captives set free
May the Gospel of Jesus
Wash over me

Now, I am not pretending that my last few months have been full of clutching to the Gospel. In fact, the past few months have been confusing in our faith walk. We are asking big questions, and the why’s are still unanswered. But, and there is a big BUT, (yes, I did just say that, but don’t read it with an extra T) in all of our questions, Jesus still remains the same. His sacrifice still the same.

The last part of the song talks about breathing in with faith and out with His peace. So for today, that will be my mantra. And may the Gospel of Jesus just wash over us.

*Now before I take too much credit, the actual pratice of this was demonstrated for me by a friend in my share group during a great trial in her life. I have been so blessed to know my share group, full of people that have walked the same difficult roads, and are right there by my side. 


I can't imagine how hard this is for you, but I admire your strength and I hope that writing helps (I know that for me writing is one of the best ways I can make sense of my thoughts and deal with whatever is happening in life).
Take care and I know it will get easier as time goes on
Thanks, as always, for sharing your beautiful journey. You are such an inspiration. And yes, what an amazing blessing the women of that share group are. I can't count how many times they have blessed me over the years. Love you!

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