When I began blogging I told myself I wouldn’t post simply to post. If I didn’t have anything worthwhile to share I would simply keep on moving and see how I felt the following week.
Well, this week was the first time I actually felt as though I had nothing to give anyone. Instead of sitting down and writing on the days I usually do, I kept busy with other things. I thought I was okay with that decision, but instead of feeling at peace I had a strong sense of discomfort.
I’m going to be very transparent and vulnerable here … You see last week I had some words with God, and they weren’t so pretty. I was hurt and angry about something I thought I had already turned over to him long ago. I cried. I yelled. I lashed out. And then, I fell on my face, apologized, and begged for forgiveness.
Oh, Grief, how I detest you. You have made me into someone I sometimes dislike. How I wish I could go back to being the person I used to be, but that is impossible.
I know God has big shoulders and can handle anything I throw at him. But I sure wish I understood his plan.
He is the one who has upheld me over these long days, months, and years as I’ve walked this grief journey. To be angry with him is alien to me. I’m not a grudge holder. However, I know enough that if you let anger grow and steep within you, you limit how the Holy Spirit can move. It’s like slowly turning off the power to one thing that can keep you moving in the right direction.
Anger fueled my grief and deep within me had become eerily quiet. Grief’s silence then became quite deafening.
Well, it dawned on me that although I’d asked the Lord for forgiveness and thought I’d moved on, I’m not sure I really did. My heart and mind were still raging a battle within, and I realized I even felt a bit rebellious.
It was kind of like, “Well, since this happened … and if you’re not going to do this, then I’m not going to talk to you right now. And furthermore, I’m not going to sit down and write anymore either! So there!” As these random thoughts unconsciously flew through my mind, all of a sudden I could picture my 5-year-old self! Ha-ha!
Every day when I wake up the first thing I still think about is my daughter. I immediately remember that she ran ahead to heaven. The sadness and missing of her will forever live within me.
I’ve been faithful to do what I believe God has called me to do. One of those things was to write Beautifully Broken: Finding Hope During Loss and blog each week. Sharing my grief journey is a way to help myself and others know we are not alone. Unfortunately, the enemy has come along and whispered in my ear, “But is it really helping anyone? You have nothing to share. No one wants to hear from you.”
After a restless night’s sleep that was filled with a lot of tossing and turning, I realized that perhaps I hadn’t given this all over to the Lord as I thought I did. This grief journey, which can reek of loneliness and silence, can replay in the mind and heart over and over again. Grief’s silence can absolutely become deafening!
Maybe you’re wrestling with something in your own heart this week. If you are, I understand and I’m sorry you’re struggling. No matter what, I still know the only way to get settled and get back on track is to run to the Father. Thankfully, even when we get upset with him, he never turns his back on us.