I feel sometimes like a vortex. A big black hole inside of me is sucking all of me into oblivion.
But, I see so clearly two roads before me…
The first is heavy with the ugliness of grief-animosity, anger, anxiety and depression. This road makes us bitter and hard and unable to really be filled with faith, have peace, or love deeply.
The other still has the burden of sadness but is heading down a path of healing and hope. This one is harder. It makes us vulnerable. But it softens us, helps us appreciate life and the blessings we have, and makes us better friends, parents, people. It gives us perspective into another’s struggles. It gives us compassion, mercy.
I know in my heart that I can choose to surrender to the entrapment of grief or rise above and accept His peace. Jesus talks of a becoming like a child to enter the kingdom of heaven. A little child doesn’t always understand but fully trusts his parents. I guess I need to fully rest in His grace. I know I can trust my pulverized heart in His hands. I never imagined going through the unthinkable of losing a child and having my very heart ripped from my chest and being able to somehow still breathe, still carry on. Though I’m not quite sure what carrying on looks like yet. In Him, lies my only hope. I know I can only do this with Him. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have Him to bring hope to my despair and healing to this deep and intense pain.
There is such vulnerability in grief. There is such liability in vulnerability. And yet there is power in vulnerability.
In knowing that I am not too hard-hearted to let love wash over me. That in this weakness, strength will be there. Not my strength. But my dependence on Him and His strength. I want to make it through this to the other side. I want to finish the race set before me. I don’t want life and pain to conquer me. I want to beat this.
I want to be a survivor.
So here I am, picking up the pieces…