It’s the week leading up to Easter. Holy week. It has felt everything but holy in our house…
Germs. Sickness. Blech Blech Blech. This time I was the one taken down hardest- I can’t remember being so sick. Being sick as a Mom is TERRIBLE. You’re still Mom as in “Mom wipe me!” and “Mom did you get my lacrosse stick?” and “Mom Bryleigh bit me!” but all I could do is lay in bed and shiver. And sweat. And cough. And see all the household chores piling up around me. No one has anything to wear or can find…anything. Basically it feels the household is crumbling down me and you I feel like…
What is it that people say when they are really sick? One of those phrases I avoid with a ten foot pole- Death.
There are so many terrible phrases when you have recently lost a loved one that have the effect of acid on a wound. For me being sick meant more than just physically illness but lying there with nothing to think about but another holiday around the corner- without him. My head hurt to much to read or watch TV, so when I was awake he was on my mind constantly. His life was playing over and over before my eyes and it was so absolutely awful. Beautiful and awful.
The fact that his life was so beautiful makes it being cut short so much more awful.
I don’t really know what I would do without this blog to pour my heart into…when it hurts so bad. So so bad. When I don’t think I can BEAR it any more and it’s just too much it eases my pain just an iota, just enough to get by, knowing that others are listening.
I just need someone to TELL. Thank you for letting me TELL you.
It seems that the holidays and the birthdays and all those certain”hurting” days are endless like a barrage of waves crashing over me; the water fills my lungs and leaves me struggling and gasping and wondering if I will make it…they just keep coming and coming and coming. I feel like I am more down than up…
Then comes the parade of self- doubt. Of feeling like a failure. Feeling like I’ve let everyone down. I am not strong, I am as weakly human as they come. Frail, helpless, throwing my own little pity party. Yep- I’m pretty sure the last three and half months have been just a big mess of negative emotions and I would like nothing more than to find my way out of it.
Unfortunately my grief will be with me forever. There’s no running away, no stuffing it down inside and hiding it. I must finding a way to cope every single day. Yet the Bible gives hope that suffering is a gift.
“In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. 7 These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. 8 Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy.”
I Peter 1:6-8
The rest of it- all the yucky stuff that makes me feel un-worthy and a screw up and overall just a piece of trash?
That gets nailed to the cross. All of it. Every single bit. I have the comfort of knowing I’m left to drown in all this yuck but he died to set me free.
Free to revel in being a child of God. To allow his arms to cradle me on those days when I’m falling apart at the seams. Free to look forward to paradise with him FOREVER.
“Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool.”
Easter is coming.
No matter how un-holy and unworthy we feel…all we have to do is ask. He comes straight to us, right down to our dirty grungy selves, and washes us clean.