It’s weird, the number of drafts for blogs I have that I don’t share is probably more than you would think. I tend to share a lot, and it would seem like I share it all, but I promise there are definitely hard moments, intimate moments, and downright too sad to share moments (even though I share sad things here too). Those extra hard moments I like to keep between me and God. I share this little bit just to say, even if we don’t see eye to eye on all the things I write or just because I look like a “positive griever” whatever that actually means… it doesn’t mean I don’t fall or fail or get negative sometimes too. I get completely rage-y sometimes and it’s a whole scene. So, if you also have some things going on and you see one of my happier posts please try to remember that it’s a post and while I generally post a mixture of emotions, I tend to write with a more hopeful disposition. I absolutely have hope in God for all things to work out for His Glory. Maybe this wasn’t “His plan” but He has a plan for it. Even so, I have full on mental wrestle mania with God too. I still cry in the car listening to certain songs. I still get jealous of those around me having a third baby and getting to bring them home. I still give a little scowl at the stranger with a baby about a year and half now, almost 2. I breakdown in the middle of very long lines while waiting to get pictures with the winter wonderland set up at Christmas time because I saw a kid chasing behind Samuel and Molly and for a minute I said, “those are MY three” and realized they aren’t. They aren’t all mine.
While writing that other draft though I was talking to Billy about not sharing it and I was telling him how it more than ever feels like people are moved on. I feel like we should actually be at a check mark. So often before we were told NOT to feel that way, and I haven’t up until now. There is no right time to be “healed” or time frame for wellness. I know. We were told not to compare ourselves to others journeys and for so long we were like “yeah, right on. We’re not gonna do that. There is NO timeline. Got it”. Why could I so easily follow those directions earlier but now I feel like as I write this, I should be “better”. I find myself comparing us to others which is just about always a bad idea. Especially here in grief though, I don’t need more guilt and shame on this. On me. I know that I shouldn’t compare. So why do I feel like talking about this now is me being a crybaby. How could I even call myself that because of course I’m a crybaby! I didn’t think I would ever hold a lifeless body much less my own child’s. Why do I have terrible, recently the worst, of dreams that have me questioning if I should even be grieving. Why do I ask myself if this was even real and then hate myself for the thought of abandoning Huxley as if leaving my grief means I’m leaving him. But does it? Grief is love, right? If I’m not grieving him, am I not loving him? No. These are rhetorical questions, and I promise I find my way to the answers. God shows up every time, leads me to where I need to be-answers or not. He is with me and I will learn.
No one here has given me even an inkling of hate for sharing. Thank you by the way. So why do I feel like this. I know I shouldn’t, but grief doesn’t really follow logic. My brain is forever changed and I see everything through this new lens now. Billy and I were talking about how grief shapes us. All of our thoughts. Every action. Every relationship-new and old. Every single thing in our lives is changed by grief. The good things, bad things, insignificant things, and huge things. Do you really mean EVERYTHING Katina? Yes, everything. Laughing too hard. Yep. Crying about something non-related. Yes. Meeting new people today. Yes. Starting a new fun class. Yep, that does it too. Want to call an old friend. Mm hmm. Going literally anywhere. Yea. Trying to talk about anything and not have a piece of him come through is almost impossible.
It is all changed by this brain, this life, that is “tainted”. That’s the word that feels right but I know it’s so very wrong. I am not tainted from knowing grief. Quite the opposite. I am blessed. I can see now that there have been good changes, I’ve talked about them before. Compassion, lives literally coming to Christ through the loss of Huxley, being pushed out of my comfort zone in many areas in many different ways. Some good has happened and I can’t even begin to tell you how guilty I feel for saying that. Anyway, it feels like I bring this layer of thought to everything I’m involved in, and I find myself apologizing or overthinking it and wondering why in the world I said that or thought about it that way and I realize that it is because I am being shaped by grief. God is using it to make me, well, me.
We were at church yesterday-having a week of prayer- and was a day of thanksgiving. A day to pray our thanksgiving to God. I was thankful. Then I wasn’t. I was mad all over again and I had to ask God to help me be thankful. You know what though, I am. I am thankful. He continues to chase me. He is exactly who He says He is and never changes. He has walked with me every step in the fire. Guided me when the smoke was too much. Filled my lungs with fresh air when I need reprieve. I am so thankful. More than ever actually. He is so so good. I may still need help to be thankful, but man am I ever. So be it for you too. I pray for thankfulness to come in full force no matter who you are or what you’ve been through or what you are currently going through because we have all been through some stuff. Let it be. Thank you all so much again for reading my gibberish. I write it out here and hopefully I have a full and more rounded thought by the time it makes it to the book. I certainly gain more insight after writing these short blogs. Really, thank you. You being here means the world to me.
Even Morse Sweetly 