I like to write, as you can tell, but its hard to write about painful things. Things we all keep hidden away though we try hard to pretend we are just ‘fine’. I tried to write my story once and that quickly turned into a fantasy fiction novel, The Trinity Ring! It holds parts and pieces of the real me, but it became an outlet for me to write about my darkest fears, and the loss of my mom in a way that was safer I suppose.
Often, we stay so busy with work, our children, their sports and activities, or with any hobby we can grab on to in order to fill the one spec of space we have left. All in an attempt to remind ourselves that we are ‘fine’ and for a while we can believe it, can’t we? Until the time comes when the darkness is beginning to drown out the light we have left. Until the time comes that you realize you are not the one in control, that you are not ‘fine’.
After the recent death of my father, I really thought I was handling things quite well. Until I began to notice that I was unable to allow myself to have any ‘quiet time’. Subconsciously I was filling that one moment of quite space I would have had with music, or writing, or reading until I was asked:
“How are you supposed to hear God if you keep up the noise in your mind?”
That question stopped me in my tracks. Slowly I became aware of just how loud I had turned up the music in the car, and just how often I was putting in my ear buds instead of allowing a moment of quiet. Grant it the soul filled music I was listening too was also a lifeline for me in my grief, but I never, ever took a break. It was as if I was afraid to have quite time.
Afraid to see where my thoughts would take me. Afraid to realize that I was now in this world without my mother or my father. I was scared to admit just how broken I was, that I was not really in control of the things I thought I was, that I was not ‘fine’.
Slowly I allowed myself time in the morning, while the rest of my house was still asleep. I took my coffee and sat on the back steps looking out into the towering trees behind my house. I found that by stopping and sitting in the stillness, the tears came. Maybe this is why I kept the noise up? Who really wants to feel these feelings? But how can we move forward if we can’t go through our grief?
The tears came, anger came, regret and shame came. But you know what else came… moments of gratitude, love, memories that made me smile. Grant it, those were often followed by more tears and anger, but I was at least beginning to sit inside my feelings. I had been hiding them behind all my busyness. I was hiding them behind all my ‘fine’s’!
I prayed and asked God to be with me during my grief. I thanked Him for never leaving my side. Even though I spent about thirty years blaming him for my mom’s death, being mad at Him, He was still there for me. With the realization that I am not the one in control I found freedom. Freedom to grieve and lean on God. Freedom to ask for help, and be open to receiving it. Freedom to admit that I was not ‘fine’. I didn’t need to have all the answers. I didn’t have to hold it together all the time. What I needed to do was be still and follow Him.
“Be still and know that I am God” Psalm 46:10. This reminds me that as I process all the ‘should haves’ and ‘what ifs’ that come to my mind uninvited that I know things worked out the way they were meant to. Don’t wait until that darkness is drawing near to realize you are only human, that grief is hard, and that it’s okay not to be okay. Pray when your heart is heavy. Reach out to a trusted friend or family member and let them know when you need a little help.
Song of the day: Casting Crows, ‘Just Be Held’