Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Unbridled grief. Inexplainable Calm.

Wellness has been good today... workout, clean eating, homeschool without complaint. Focused on my word of the week:  Hope
A little devo from God Calling.
Yep, all is well.
But let me tell you a little about grief... it's just kind of always there.  Beyond all of the stabilities in my day, the sadness still catches me off guard at the most unusual times.  So many have encouraged me that this is normal, but I'm still not a fan.
After bath time, the girls wanted to look at pictures.  'Actual' pictures in an album.  I know, its a forgotten pasttime.  My little ones are fascinated.  Goose still cannot comprehend growing up without a computer
So, I dug out the albums.  We looked through pictures of Lala (my mother) as a baby, teenager & young mother.  Next we looked at WJ's childhood album where there is an animal of some sort in almost every picture, alive or dead is irrelevant
Then it comes.  Our wedding album.  I realized that I probably had not looked at it in a VERY long time.  Not because I don't LOVE my wedding memories, because I do.  It's just that, since my Dad passed, the memories are a little bittersweet.  He was my best friend.  He cheered  me on through a very crucial season of singleness.  He was our biggest fan... and he was buried on our wedding anniversary.
Please excuse my raw emotion tonight, but you see, I've come to realize that
this blog is just as much for me as it is for the few of you who actually read it.
As soon as I opened the big book, it hit me.  That overwhelming sadness that I despise.  I tried to keep my composure as the girls were so excited to see pics of Papa.  Prissy, the youngest, calls him, "Papa Heaven" because we say it so intentionally to help her understand.  I had to hurry through the reception pics and close the book.  Sending them off to bed with a story and a song, I settled into the loneliness of my room.  And I let the tears flow.  As I poured out all the "Why's" to a God who really needed to show up tonight, He did.  He showed up with two thoughts...
one.  The memory of December 17th, although bittersweet, has actually given me beauty for ashes.  It doesn't have to be a day JUST to remember the passing of my father.  It will forever share in the celebration of all the goodness God poured upon me when he gave me WJ.  That focus will help in years to come as I relive the memories of my Dad, his laughs & his companionship.  Balance.
two.  WJ made me cry last week.  Wait.  It's not what you think.  He happened to walk through the house, middle of the day, as I was obviously trying to hold in all emotion & BE for the girls.  He stopped me.  Sat me down.  Squared my shoulders.  And said, "Kendall."  The only words I could say were, "Don't! I'm trying not to be emotional today."  He gave me the look.  I knew exactly what he meant.  And the tears came.  He then reminded, as he always does so sweetly, "It will help.  Let it out."  And it did help.  Then and now
As I type these last words, I am grateful for the relationship that I shared with my Dad.  I am overwhelmed by the compassion, understanding and love of my husband.  And above all, I am thankful for the small glimpse of peace that comes with tears.  A calm that I cannot understand
Today's entry from God Calling is very interesting now that the day is almost done. 
Here's a little of what amazes me in this little book...
Jan. 8: "Life with Me is not immunity from difficulties, but peace in difficulties...Joy is the result of faithful trusting acceptance of My Will, when it seems not joyous...Joy is the daughter of calm."
Finally, in the words of Rita Springer,
I don't understand your ways. 
Oh but I will give you my song,
I'll give you all of my praise...
That's all he wants.  His greatest desire.  To be believed in.  To hope.
If you endured this post, thank you.  I love to write in order to help others in the journey.  But tonight was one of self indulgence for the sake of catching a glimpse of that Joyous Calm... the freedom of crying out in my deepest need and Him understanding every pain.  And then of the Answer.  The little hope amid all the "why".  Good night.  

No comments:

Post a Comment