Ramblings of My Heart and Soul

It is time for this month's Under the Tree! If you don't know about this gathering, check out Carly's blog for more information. If this is your first time to join us, you are welcome here.

How long has it been since you lost your child/ren? Has your grief changed at all? Is your life becoming any easier or is it just harder as time passes?

"Bereaved people are like ducks above the surface. Looking composed and unruffled...below the surface, paddling like crazy." ~ Author Unknown


"I know that face... it's my face."

One of my coworkers was commenting yesterday on how well another coworker was handling the sudden loss of her only son at five days shy of one year old last month. As I looked at her in disbelief and tried not to look hurt, I corrected her. I said, "I see her smile and my heart breaks all over again because I know that face... it's my face. I wear that face everyday. She is not handling it well. It's just a face." I told her that this is something no one can "handle". You just keep putting one foot in front of the others and pray that time moves a little faster so that you can get home and take off that face. You have to put it on to go to work, to go see family, and some days, you have to put it on before you can even get out of bed. She agreed, but she will never fully understand and I pray she never has to.

My husband and I enjoy the show "Lie to Me" on Fox and the last episode we watched showed a lady who talked of her great expectations for her weekend with her family. She committed suicide the next day and no one knew why. She seemed so happy but the main character analyzed her "micro-expressions" and slowed down the tape so that her true agony was visible on her face. Sometimes, I wonder if people can see through my "face" or hear the edge that I hear in my voice. I know that I am a different person now. I am less tolerant. I am exhausted all the time. I sleep but I don't rest. I am a mother with no child to kiss. I wonder if all of that shows in my face.

This Easter is the first major holiday without Raelyn. Her due date was January 26 so this was the first holiday we would have really celebrated with her here. It is so hard for me to wrap my heart around the fact that I had planned to teach her the true significance of this holiday and tell her about her Savior and what He sacrificed for her and now... now she is living it! She can sit on His lap and listen to His story firsthand all because of His sacrifice. The hope that we have in Christ that we can be saved from our sins, see our loved ones again, and live eternally in Heaven with Him is all because of His sacrifice on the cross.

But that's not all! His sacrifice provided for His children a promise here on Earth. "Surely he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows, yet we considered him stricken by God, smitten by him, and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed." ~Isaiah 53:4-5. Christ carried our sorrows and brought us peace and healing through His death. I don't have to carry my own sorrow or search out my own peace. All I have to do is turn to Christ and lay my grief before Him. I say that lightly but it is difficult for me to do. I can lay it down, but it seems that I turn right around and snatch it back up again, lay it across my shoulders and continue through life, stooped over underneath the weight of it all. Sometimes I feel that if I lay my grief at His feet that I will be leaving her behind, so I pick it back up and hold it close to my chest. My head knows the Word and the freedom it can bring to my life, but sometimes there is not enough room for that depth of understanding in this grieving mama's heart.

I bought the latest release from Mandisa yesterday and her songs really spoke to my heart. With song titles like "He is With You" "Broken Hallelujah" and "You Wouldn't Cry", the songs have to be powerful.  (This is not a promotion of any kind--this music just helped lift some of the funk.)  I cannot find any of the music online yet so I will let some of my favorite lyrics speak for themselves.

There are so many things in my head right now. This week has been really difficult for me. Sunday was the six month anniversary of Raelyn’s death and in some ways I feel like it is just now hitting me. I was really dreading Sunday, but I woke up doing okay. I thought about her a lot in that time after waking but before the alarm goes off. I tried to remember all of the details about her and her short life with us that I could and I was okay—kind of peaceful, but in a dazed sort of way. It wasn’t until the worship started at church that I lost it. I couldn’t even sing, I was crying so much and my chest hurt. I don’t know what song they were singing and it didn’t matter—sometimes it is just so difficult for me to praise God and proclaim His goodness when I don’t feel it or see it. I know He is just as good now as He was before and He will be forever because He doesn’t change, but sometimes it is hard to acknowledge all the goodness even though I am covered in it.

Monday, we all went to load up some furniture from Philip’s Granny’s house so except for the driving time, I didn’t really have opportunity for thinking/remembering too much.

The last three days at work, though, have been rough. I feel manic or something. You know that Southwest Airlines commercial with the really nice ticket lady whose head rotates and she becomes evil—I am that girl. I can laugh, joke, and be nice to all of my coworkers but the moment that I turn around to walk away, my smile dissolves and whatever light I had mustered to cover the pain in my eyes goes out. I go home and just vegetate, even when my husband is home. The numbness is just overwhelming and the worst part is that I am afraid to talk to anyone. I wonder sometimes if I am making too much out of this—I was the only one in my life who remembered about that day. I know that everyone has stuff going on and the world doesn’t revolve around me but I feel like people just want me to move on and quit bringing her up. (Please, if you read this blog and you know me in real life, don’t be concerned—this is why I blog, to get these feelings that I can’t say out loud off my chest.) Every time I try to talk about my feelings with someone I get a suggestion on what to ‘do’ about my feelings. I don’t want suggestions or advice because there is no answer to this. There is nothing short of having my two-month old daughter in my arms that will make this any better.

It is kind of like Christmas. (just go with me here) When you’re a child and it comes time to open presents, tearing off the wrapping paper is almost as fun as discovering the gift inside. You know you’re getting a gift regardless of the paper, but the wrapping is still beautiful and it makes getting to the gift that much more fun. The gift that I have received is the gift of everlasting love, endless grace, and eternal salvation. Sometimes it is wrapped in blessings that I cannot fathom. Sometimes it is wrapped in peace that passes all understanding. Sometimes it is wrapped in sadness. The wrapping does not change the gift; only the path I must take to get to the gift that I know is inside.

I know God’s hand is upon my life and that the Holy Spirit walks this road with me. I know that I am blessed beyond measure with the gift of salvation. I know all of this with my head because the Word says so, but on those days when my heart forgets that the only reason I am walking is by God’s grace, life is difficult.