A Process.

Why does the writing mood strike when I’m so tired? Every.Time.

Well, it’s been three weeks today since my mom passed. It feels like years already. I barely remember her memorial, but there are bits and pieces that cling to my heart. I remember the feeling afterwards…such peace…and even joy. God was glorified and my mom was honored. Her life is such a testament to God’s goodness.  I walked away feeling like I learned so much more about her…and where I got some of my quirks from.

I crashed the following evening. I remember the moment distinctly, I was driving with my cousin and I felt the grief coming, I felt it begin to nag and drag me down. And every day has been up and down ever since. I was in an angry stage last week. Frustrated with everything. Overwhelmed with reality and hurt because other people get to keep going. And I’m not ready to. It’s amazing what goes through one’s mind. It’s easy to get caught up in the thought that grief can justify whatever. I’ve thought about drinking until I pass out. Or maybe going for a drive and not coming back. Or just hermitting away and living in my sweat pants.

In the moment, each scenario has its merits. Then I remember God. And I remember how much I want to be faithful to him. And I don’t want to get caught up in just soothing the pain, but not dealing with it and not seeking Him for healing.

Yesterday, I was reading a sermon about how Jesus has experienced everything that man has. Every pain, every struggle, everything that causes anguish except for him, it was tenfold.

Separated from His Father. Crucified by the people he loves and came to save. I was reminded how quickly I am to isolate and get sucked into my own little world. How everything becomes about me. But it’s not.

I am not saying grief is not ok. It is. You need to feel it, to go through it, to process it. It’s ok to be hurting. It’s ok to say so.

But my ultimate comfort comes from Christ, not man. My hope is in Him. And He’s already gone through it. As I said in my previous post, this is when it counts.

Grief hurts. I feel like a part of me is missing now that my mom is gone. I find it hard to breathe at times, when I think of her. But this is a time that will build character…it will push me to grow and strengthen. I want to come out of it, better and closer to God.  It’s going to be a long road…and I can’t wait until I’ve come through on the other side. I don’t want to waste it.

I'm tired and will possibly regret posting this in the morning.

Well, it seems to be that time of year again. Time to update the blog. I won’t even make excuses anymore.

I feel I need to preface this post with a little disclaimer. Because I over-think everything, I’ve been hesitating on posting this. But I’ve wanted to write about it and share it but I‘ve held back because it is so personal. And sharing on Facebook seems almost tainted now; It’s marred by complaining and over sharing.  My intention is to do neither. I guess this is a way of processing. Grief is a funny thing.

A little over a month ago, I received a phone call that my mother wasn’t doing well. And I thought she was going to die, that seemed to be the general consensus. 

I’ve been expecting this time to happen for over eight years now. I’ve thought about it almost every day. I’ve wondered where I will be, and what I’m doing. Who will I be with? Will I be able to excuse myself before I break down or will the news crash over and consume me? Two months ago I would have told you that I was ready to let her go. That she would be better off in Heaven than here. She would be free. And I still believe this, but facing the prospect of life without my mother is hitting me full force. Even though she’s spent 1/3 of my life in a hospital or care home of some sort, she was still there. I could go to her and talk and cry and just be with her. And now, here  we are, close to the end. And every morning I wake up and wonder if today is the day. And every day is a fight to trust the Lord. And that, my friends, is the other side of things. Trusting the Lord. Because in all the perceived chaos, He has been right here, orchestrating every minute. I find myself challenged in a way that I haven’t been before. There has been a lot of hurt in my life. But looking back I could always see the good that came out of it. But right here in this moment, I see my tiny mom, and she can’t talk with me like before. And she doesn’t look at me like before. And she can’t hug me like before. And she won’t. Not on this side of heaven. 

I don’t understand God’s plan. It confuses me, to be honest. And there are moments in the midst of that confusion where I get angry and frustrated and it kinda ruins my day. But then I get to see how easily swayed I am. And how quick I am to turn on my God, my one consistent. Is it not during these times, which it counts? When I need to put my money where my mouth is?

Growing up, my mom would always quote Romans 8:28: “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”

In my angsty teenage years this would drive me crazy. Because I looked around at our life and thought “how is this good?” All I saw was pain, abandonment and disappointment.

My mom didn’t have the easiest go of it.  It just seemed like it was one thing after another with her. And yet, she never wavered in her faith. She never stopped praising the Lord for His mercy and grace. I found a letter she wrote to my father, forgiving him. She said that every time an angry thought entered her mind, she would pray about it and give it to God. And day-by-day it got easier until finally she could let him go and forgive.

So, I find myself here, trying to make sense of it. And I can’t. And I probably won’t. Not for a while at least.

So, where am I going with this?

I think it’s incredibly easy to get mad and get sucked into a sneaky hate spiral. Consistently turning to God for peace and strength is hard, because it’s not something that you have to do just once. Not for me. It’s a daily thing and sometimes I can’t even do it. And that’s why I’m thankful for a God who knows my heart. But better yet, he knows His plan. And these aren’t just cliché Christian sayings I’m throwing at you. It’s truth. I’ve realized that every day is a choice. Do I listen to myself or God?

I don’t have a neat way of tying this up…so I will just ask for prayer. This is one of the most difficult things I have and will face. This is my mom. Pray for her, that she will have peace and feel the presence of the Lord every minute of every day until she goes home. And please, pray that I will choose God and His peace, and go on His strength, not mine.