This blog dropped off for me in 2019. No specific reason, I just felt like I didn’t have anything new or beneficial to add. I had a voice telling me every now and then to pick it back up, but I always defeated myself, thinking that the blog was too much about me. Do I write so that people will like and appreciate me? Do I write so that they’ll tell me how much they like it? What is the purpose of this whole thing?
After a while, I realized that I was letting a negative voice defeat me. But, I let it continue to work on me for a while. Add in chaos with job, kids, etc. You all know it and live it, so I won’t elaborate on that. I picked this back up, though, because I’ve had several nudges from different places for a long time. I finally realized that not writing is being disobedient to God. No, I don’t think that my blog is some divine tool, but I know that He has put it on me to write. Maybe it’s just for me. I also know that I have friends who have experienced similar things to me and if my blog can help them, then it’s all worth it. I pray that these words reach those who need to read them tonight, tomorrow, whenever.
Did you know that grief continues? Seems like it will continue forever. A little bit here and there, sometimes it goes on for longer, but usually not. I’ve started to accept that. Bear with me (if you want, or stop reading now, whatevs). If you’ve read the blog before, you know it’s not all about grief. But, tonight it is because my heart has been heavy lately and I think if I can just pour it out here, maybe it’ll lighten up.
I wanted to start off with some things about grief that I expected and I’ll mingle those in with some things that I did not expect. Because I had time to prepare for Chad’s death, I--as morbid as it sounds--spent some time picturing what it would feel like or be like when he wasn’t here anymore. That would usually end with me begging God to not let me face that eventuality.
I was prepared to be very sad. I knew that the sadness would be deep and it would be dark. I thought I would spend days in bed. I didn’t realize that the pain and the darkness would be so cruel. How weird it would be to wake up and live and breathe in the same way I did before he died, only now there was a dark grey film that covered everything and nothing mattered much anymore. Food didn’t taste like anything and there was nothing desirable in the entire world for me. It was more muted and depressing than screaming and crying---although it was that too at times. It was cruel how the world just kept on going and I was supposed to keep on going right along with it.
Loneliness. I expected to be lonely. And, I have been at times when I have wanted to talk more about books, or movies, or food, or politics instead of which Pokemon could win the battle or how to do a Nerf mod with a remote-control car. But, what I have wanted most is silence. Time to sit and let my thoughts swell up in my brain while I stare off into space. I remember when all of this was so fresh and I would want to break down in the middle of the kitchen. Crawl onto the floor and scream, but I would hear “Momma, can I have some goldfish?!” and I would have to wipe my face and get back to it. I think that was helpful then. Now I find myself--when I’m experiencing my grief--grasping at pockets of time to myself. I’m not sure I’ve taken the time to work through it all. That’s why I thought writing more about it would help.
My kids. I expected them to be sad. But, their grief comes out differently than ours. Maybe it’s a tantrum or maybe it’s needing more attention than usual. And it changes over time. What I didn’t expect was how much I needed them. They were the only light I could see for a while. They kept me putting one foot in front and then the other.
Here’s the biggest and hardest thing to talk about that I didn’t expect. The anger. You probably think I’m talking about being angry at God, but I don’t think I have been. (It would take a whole other entry to talk about this topic. Stay tuned.) I can get angry at the kids. I’ve talked to some other moms and I know that this isn’t uncommon. It’s a struggle that many of us face, but I think my anger can have more teeth because of my pain. Of course I don’t consciously think, “Roooooarrr, I’m so mad because of my experiences!” But, I think it’s down deep in there bubbling up and pops out when I’m already frustrated. Please pray for me to be delivered from that.
I didn’t expect the ways in which God would provide for us. He has provided for our very real earthly needs--food on the table, bills paid, etc. Thank you, God! But, what I have found to be the most surprising is that He is there to comfort my heart and provide me with peace when I am frenzied and when I am in a pit of self-pity. He has kept me from falling off the cliff of despair when the whole world is a grey, bland expanse, day-in and day-out. He promises “He will tend his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms; he will carry them in his bosom, and gently lead those that are with young.” (Isaiah 40:11) He does lead us gently and mercifully. It’s only when I forget that He is with me and for me that I start to let the self-pity mindset take over.
I pray this reaches those that need it tonight. It can be helpful to know that you’re not alone in this.
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