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.
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