My Grief Journey: 6 Months

I had often heard people say: "Part of me died with them", when expressing the type of pain they were experiencing after losing a loved one. I never fully understood this saying, though, until I lost my own Mom. Part of me really did die with her, little parts, scattered all over the scope of my life. I could never have been prepared for all the tiny and enormous ways my life would change after losing Mom. 

I think the biggest change for me, was my child-like faith. I used to pray and believe completely that God would hear and answer me the way I wanted. I used to believe that He wouldn't allow hurt in my life, if I prayed against certain things, and obeyed. I had never come face to face with The God of Heaven Who allows bad things to happen to good people. I had never been face to face with The God of our universe Who answers: "No", who turns away, who let's things happen to someone I love. Where was God the night Mom died? He was right there. Right where He always was, where He always will be, but this time, He didn't intervene. I had never experienced that before, to such a degree. My faith felt a big blow, my heart ripped out, and I was left grappling for the faith I once knew. I had to reacquaint myself with my Father God, with my Abba, because my understanding of Him changed. He hadn't changed, but I did. My humanness didn't understand how anything around me was good, why God would allow such a thing, and I had to learn to keep going to God, even in my pain, even when I wanted to run away from Him, get as far away from Him as I could, because of the pain He had allowed. I wasn't prepared for the spiritual pain I would encounter with the loss of my Mom, how it would shake me, and how I would need to crawl to Jesus, for the strength to breathe my next breath, and for the strength to keep going, long after the initial shock was over. 

I've learned that grief doesn't end, and it doesn't get better. There are days I am distracted by people, work, errands, and general life, but inside my heart, I am always thinking about my Mom, wanting to talk to her, wanting to share life with her, missing her. Every little part of every day reminds me of her somehow, and I wish she was here. I still find myself trying to wrap my mind around the fact that she's not coming back. This learning to do life without your Mother, without the woman who gave you life, who cared for you, sustained you, loved you completely, is incredibly difficult and heart wrenching. I don't think we're meant to do life without our Mother's, but death is, of course, the result of sin, and nothing now is as it should have been before the fall of man. Now, this is what we do, but it is not natural, it is not easy for our hearts to keep beating when part of it has died. The grief just becomes a part of you, something you carry around in your back pocket forever, something that never leaves you. 

I never knew how our physical and emotional heart could actually feel and hold so much pain. I never knew I could feel such physical burden, and still be alive. There are still moments, even now, 6 months later, when I am so overtaken by the trauma at the hospital, and days following my Mom's death. There are moments, even now, when the stab of fear, anxiety, and overwhelming loss consume me, and bring me to my knees. There are moments when the physical ache is so bad, that I just want to crawl into a ball, and be held. I'm 31 years old, a grown adult, but you're never old enough to lose your Mother, never old enough to say goodbye. I still long for her, and need her, and that's the thing that kills me…how can she really be gone, when I still need her so badly? 

I think about Heaven a lot, trying to wrap my mind around where Mom is now, and what she's doing. All The Bible tells us about Heaven is that we will spend our time worshiping and glorifying God there. That there is no time, as we understand it on Earth. So when I get to Heaven, finally, after being separated so long, my Mom will simply turn around, and there I'll be, as if we'd never been apart. But, oh, on Earth, the separation is felt so tremendously. 

Now, I think about all the things Mom is missing here, from my perspective, and I ache. Last night, while reading Katelyn bedtime stories, I realized that the book she had selected was the last one I had packed on an overnight to my parents house. This was the last story my Mom had read with Katelyn, and all the books she's learned since, Mom never got to experience with her. From Earth, that loss hurts, and I wish Mom could be here to hear all of Katelyn's words and expressions, see her care for her baby dolls, and baby sister. I want to share my beautiful babies with my Mom, and watch her love on them. But that can't happen, and from my perspective, the months and years that will pass without her will be so hard. But in Heaven, Mom is happy and complete, not lacking anything, not in any more pain. She doesn't feel the separation the way we do, and all of her tears have been wiped away for the final time. I wish that was so on Earth. I wish I could reach through the veil to Heaven, and feel the peace she feels now. 

I'm learning so much, in the wake of Mom's death. I'm learning to keep going, to live a new normal, and feel this new pain. I'm learning to deal with my grief, and the way it effects my life. I'm learning to deal with mundane things, even when I don't want to, and working to be patient with the world around me, when I'd rather hide away. I know I'm learning necessary things, and growing in new ways that I never would have before. 

And through it all, I'm still looking to Heaven, and choosing to believe that God is still good, and still The God of the Old Testament who restores us, and gives us beauty from our ashes. I'm choosing to believe that He's the same God who gives us peace, and who died to give our lives purpose. I'm choosing to believe that He's not done with me yet, that He'll keep teaching me things, revealing new things to me, and using what I learn to help those around me. Because I'm also choosing to believe, that God will keep working in my life, even when I am broken, and even when I am hurting, to further His kingdom, and encourage His people. None of this will be in vain. 

Sharing the Road to Glory: Why I Write

Writing and choosing the journal online is a very personal thing. The topics I choose, the words, the thoughts, are all my own, and deeply expose my inner heart of hearts. When it comes to living an open, vulnerable life, I've always been on board, believing that two people can only truly be connected when truth is spoken between them. I've never shied away from speaking truth, and that's what you'll find here in this blog: my truth.

Up until about a month ago, there was no problem with this, and I wrote freely, expressing topics on faith, motherhood, marriage, and most recently: my devastating journey of grief after losing my Mother. I've written real things, real emotions, real questions. I've written about my faith, and my relationship with God. I've shared prayers, personal struggles, and even questions that I've brought to The Almighty. I've shared these things because I know there are others grieving in the body of Christ, and they need to know it's OK to feel the way they do. I know there are other women hurting out there, who can read my words, and be encouraged. I know there are others aching, seeking, and not knowing where to look to find their peace. I want to point those people to Christ, even in my grief, because I know how they feel, and I have the answers they seek: I have Jesus, and it's my job to tell the nations.

However, about a month or so ago, I was approached by someone who told me that my blogs were too personal, and needed to stop. I was told that the topics I write about were embarrassing to people, making them uncomfortable, and not appropriate. More so, I was told that my pictures and weekly posts about my Mom on Facebook were too much, and also needed to stop. I was told that I needed to make a public apology on Facebook, and curb my writing. I was told I needed to be more subdued, more controlled, quiet.

So I made a public apology, I took down the offending posts, and I was quiet.

Like a good little girl, I sat with my hands folded in my lap, not speaking unless spoken to.

I was quiet.

But today is a new day, and I'm feeling differently.

Today, I am feeling misunderstood, I am feeling violated and crushed. I have worked too hard in my life to just sit and be quiet. I have fought too hard for the life God wants me to live, to let someone else tell me what I can, and cannot do.

I pushed through school, furthering my education at a Christian College, even after being sexually assaulted by my professor and advisor. I pushed through depression when my Grandmother died in my arms. I pushed through physical pain, when the doctors told me I'd lose the use of my left hand and wrist. I pushed through heartache, when I remained pure, praying for a husband and babies, and my prayers were left unanswered for years and years. I pushed through ridicule, when I was made fun of for my faith, when my friends left me, when I was abandoned because being sober just wasn't cool enough. I pushed through my years of being a pastor's daughter, absorbing people's criticism of my Mom & Dad, and of my brother & I too. I pushed through postpartum depression after Katelyn's birth, through the trials of raising two daughters who are not biologically mine, through merging our families, and through creating a beautiful home where all my children can love and flourish. I am pushing through my grief, pushing through the pain of the loss of my precious Mom, and through the pain of watching my Dad mourn day after day. I have pushed through the pain of watching my Dad resign, and I have pushed through many days of ministry since, desperately desiring to still serve my LORD above all else, and the beautiful people that He has put in my path.

I have pushed through it all, fought the good fight, conquered by The power of The Lamb, and gone through all of this, because God wants me to have a story to tell, a life to give witness to, truth to proclaim. He has put the words in my heart to share, through my own experiences, in order to build up the church around me, and encourage those who are in my circle of influence. Sharing these heartaches with one another is what makes us stronger, it's what builds our community and fellowship, and also our faith. We need each other on our journey, and that's why it's so important, I believe, to live vulnerable lives, and willingly share our heart with those around us.

I've always strived for this, and I have a hard time understanding how anyone could read my words as anything less. My blogs have been raw and emotional, but they have always been deeply rooted in faith, in my understanding of scripture, and who I know God to be. I've always pointed back to Christ in my pain, in my questioning, and in my despair. I've never led anyone astray. So being asked to stop writing, to stop sharing, really hurt my heart.

I use writing as a way to express the pain I'm in, because it's really the only way I'm able to completely say what's on my heart. Grief is a very lonely journey to walk through, because so few people are willing to walk beside me, and I fear that if I truly expressed in words what I was feeling, even fewer would walk by me. Writing is safe, but still allows me to release my pain, and process my thoughts, which is huge in my journey through grief.

I've always prayed that this process would be helpful for others too, people who are going through their own struggles in life. I've always prayed that these words would encourage others, and be a sort of mission field for me, where I can share my faith, and introduce others to the Jesus I love so much.

I just can't imagine shutting down this blog, and erasing all the words I've written. I just can't imagine silencing my heart, and stifling The Holy Spirit and the things He reveals to me as I write. So though I've been asked to stop, my response to that is "no." It has to be, because to stop would mean to deny my heart, and deny the work God is doing in my life. I'm just not willing to do that, and not willing to silence the words God has placed within me to speak.

I hope that you will keep reading, and sharing this journey with me. My prayer always has been, and will always be, for you to be blessed here, and find truth for your heart here. And not only that, but love and understanding, from a heart that knows what it's like to be broken, but also full of hope, that our God is still in the business of restoration and healing. He is still on the throne, and working good things out in our lives. We have much to be thankful for, and much to look forward to. I hope you'll walk with me, and share the road to Glory, we were never meant to travel alone.