Jealous For Heaven

My husband's grandmother just celebrated her 91st birthday this week. Last night we went out to dinner with her and the extended family. As I sat next to her and her 95 year old best friend, I found myself feeling jealous!? I was jealous that they are at the end of their lives and very close to going to heaven ... that they know where they are going and all they have left to do is look forward to eternity. I am only 36 and have my whole life still ahead of me without my daughter. I know life is a blink in the light of eternity, but I can't help but feel that there will always be this empty hole in my heart where my daughter should be. I have peace in knowing she is with Jesus, but I still miss her every day and wish she was here, growing up with my son and living with us. I long for heaven (not in a suicidal way, just in a "want to get through this life and get there way," kwim?). I don't know what our future holds ... if or when we will have more children (we have been trying for six months and have a history of infertility) ... and it feels like it's never going to happen. I believe it will, but I am just feeling weary and ready for hope to show it's face ... it's been almost 9 months since I've held my daughter and I like to think that I am 9 months closer to holding her again. So I guess I'm just a little jealous of the old people who are closer to that reality than I am, as weird as that may sound!!!

You Comfort Me

when the night goes on forever...
oh, you comfort me...
how you comfort me...
when i'm cold in need of shelter...
oh, you comfort me...
how you comfort me...

when my life is hard and cold...
then you touch my heart and you warm my soul...
when love is hard to see...
then you take my hand and you rescue me...
yes, you do...

when i drift into the shadows...
oh, you comfort me...
yes, you comfort me...
when my life's a raging battle...
oh, you comfort me...
yes, you comfort me...

when my life is hard and cold...
then you touch my heart and you warm my soul...
when love is hard to see...
then you take my hand and you rescue me...
yes, you do, lord...

when the night goes on forever...
oh, you comfort me...
lord, how you comfort me...
when i'm cold in need of shelter...
oh, you comfort me...
i'm so thankful that you comfort me...

The Journey To Acceptance

I never realized what a long journey this would be. Grief. I knew it would be difficult, but never in a million years realized I would still have such deep valleys to trudge through almost nine months later. Ugh, grief! The peaks and valleys continue for what seems like forever and setbacks in my grief happen at the least expected moments. One step forward, two steps back. Endless waiting for relief. Unwanted companion, grief!!! Like most people, I have grieved the loss of pets and grandparents. I've even grieved the death of people I grew up with and parents of friends. I've grieved the loss of jobs and friendships. I've grieved the loss of hopes and dreams. But unlike most people, I am grieving the loss of my daughter. My baby. My child. I don't think there are adequate words in the English language to express my grief and what it has done to me. How it has changed me. Completely and utterly. I am certain that from the outside I must appear to most people to be doing very well. So many people have commented on my "strength." Well, I don't feel strong. I feel weak and helpless most of the time. I feel defeated and lost, too. But then there are times that I actually feel "normal" again, however brief those moments last. The time spent between those days is where I really live. It is filled with confusion, unsettledness, anxiety and avoidance. I often feel paralyzed by it. I feel that every ounce of what once was has been completely drained from my life. My life? I can't remember it let alone find it. And normal? What happened to normal? I don't know what normal is anymore. I am half way between who I was and who I am becoming, but currently I am neither. I am not the "old" me, but I am not the "new" me either. I am the "in between" me who is trying to figure this whole thing out ... the me who feels lost and trapped between the two. My enemy, anxiety, is the worst. My inability to make or keep a commitment frustrates me. The "old" me would never miss a beat ... not one appointment ... not one birthday ... not one bill. Since the "new" me hasn't arrived yet, the "in between" me has taken over and she is completely disorganized and forgets everything! She procrastinates. She's selfish. She can't make a decision. She is full of anxiety and frustration. One moment she seems happy, but then she is sad and angry all over again. And she wants this to be over. I hate her! I wish she would leave and the "new" me would just hurry up and get here. But it's just not that easy. There is more to be done before the "new" me can emerge. There is more healing ahead before she will be ready to make her appearance. I guess the first step to prepare the way for her is to accept that it is going to take time for her to get here. As much as I want to hurry up and get this over with, I can't rush it. Grief takes time. And many times it feels like too much time. But it is what it is and as soon as I embrace it and allow it to do it's work in me, maybe I will be able to see the "new" me on the horizon. I just know that I really miss the "old" me who was happy and innocent to this terrible pain and loss. But since I will never be able to get her back, I need to trust that this will not last forever and that what emerges from the ashes will be more beautiful and even better than before ...

He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners,
to proclaim the year of the LORD's favor
and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,
and provide for those who grieve in Zion--
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of gladness
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.
~ Isaiah 61:1-3