Grief is horribly hard. There are layers to grief that I am discovering little by little. These layers are multifaceted and complicated, they invade and attack in various areas of life. The layers do not play fair because they come out swinging and hit you like a brick when you least expect it. Tears flow unexpectedly and then you find it just flat out hard to function.
When one thing sets the grief off the other layers of it rise up to the surface. It is like a muddy pool filled with muck and mire. You try to get up and rinse it off but something pulls you back in and you are struggling through the muck yet again.
It is like waves overturning you in the ocean. You are in the riptide so there is no use struggling, it will just pull you deeper in; you will suffocate in the fight. You are forced to rest in it with the hope that you will eventually come out of it.
It smashes idols and perceived areas of control. It is unforgiving and in turn you respond in kind. You lash out, you run from people, you just want it to end; now.
You feel guilt because you reason you should not feel this out of control. It has been long enough you say, and unsympathetic others agree with you. You are pulled into the temptation of hopelessness.
Grief has become my friend and we have a love/hate relationship. I know the Father holds me and that is my only source of hope. He is all. He is enough. He must be. There is no where else to go. This is a good place to be, I tell myself, but I am so tempted to run from even this place of safety. Yet He holds me. He loves me; even in my wretchedness. I am His and He is mine. I am beloved; despite how I feel.
I am ugly these days; more than usual. I am not doing okay. I cannot even respond with that fake response when others ask. I feel alone. I want people to enter this mess with me but I cannot pursue anyone in order to subject them to this mess.
I think I am discovering why I don't let many people in. I fear they will leave when they see just how emotional, or weird, or crazy I can be. It is easier to just not open up. I am terrified of it.
I know in my head that God is enough. I know I will get through this eventually. I know this pain will pass. I know all these things in my head but they have not yet moved to my heart. I can only think that Jesus endured all of this desperate pain, which I feel will kill me, on the cross. He did not only carry my pain but all pain and sin. I look to Him. He holds me and is very near to my broken-heart. And I am thankful for this fire because He is ok with me not being ok. I don't have to pull it together for Him so I will not pull it together for anyone else, it is too exhausting. I rest myself fully in Him who will not let this fiery trial burn me. And just maybe my faith will come out tested and stronger. This is my hope.
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