Time is a Funny Thing

The 13th of this month marked what would have been my cousin's 49th birthday.

We are still in Post Hurricane Harvey mode, which is a strange place to be anyway.  My house was fine, and I'm continually surprised by how I've been affected by this storm.  In some ways it was like a metaphor for how I have felt about my life recently.  The storm just kept going.  When we thought it should stop raining it kept raining.  When we were unsure if the water would take us over, it kept raining.  We were prepared for a storm.  We were even prepared for a big storm.  But, like life, we were not prepared for what came.  We found ourselves day after day simply trying to make it through the day, unsure if tomorrow would be a day that took us under, or a day we conquered.  This feeling has lingered, even though the storm has passed.  And, while we were ok, many of our very dear friends were not.  There are several friends who lost everything, and we are just doing what we can to help, all the while feeling inadequate in our ability to help them.

Grief is the same way.  I'll be going along life and thinking I'm beginning to be ok, and then suddenly the water in my eyes begins to rise again and before I know it tears are streaming once again.  It's still raining.  It's not as relentless as it was in the beginning.  I see pockets of sunshine now, and even dry periods, but the storm of grief has not left me yet.

Many days I want to just move out of this storm.  The longer it holds on, the weaker I feel.  I see it creeping into many areas of my life, where it isn't welcome.  Where I used to stand tall and confident, that light is gone.  I feel inadequate in almost every area of my life.  I am scared a lot, and I used to be rather fearless.  Sometimes the fear is justified, but many times it is not.  It simply does not allow me to enjoy the moment for fear of what could happen.  I know I should not rush myself through this, but it is rushing when it feels like so much time has already passed? But, I can't rush myself or even move myself slowly.  I am not in control of this storm.

There are things that never leave me.  Watching my children meticulously clean off their mother's grave marker is one.  This is not something any child should have to do.  As I watched them carefully clean, I found myself grieving for what Bug didn't get to do.  I'm so grateful for the gift of being able to be these kids' mom, but I will never replace her.  (I don't want to).  There is still a hole in their heart, one that I will never fully fill.  Even though they tell me all the time how much they love me, I know I will never really fill that void for them.  It's not my fault that I'm inadequate here, I'm actually not supposed to be able to fill that space completely, because I would never want to erase her from their life, but it still hurts to not be able to do that for them.  I know that there will always be that scar in their life, and mine.  We want better for our children.  We don't want them to emerge from childhood already scarred by life.

But, regardless of what we do, the truth is not one of us goes through this life without scars.

Even Jesus didn't go through life without scars.  Many things we will not understand this side of heaven, but what I do know in my heart is that when we use our own scars to help others, it helps to give those scars a positive purpose.  I often wish things were different, but as I do, I realize that I would be missing out on the things about life as it is that bring me joy.  My daughter is a funny, compassionate soul, who comes behind me and supports me when I need it, and I see in our future an amazing friendship between mother and daughter that I never got to experience with my own mother, and she never got to experience with hers.  We can give that to each other.  My son has changed so much, from a scared, awkward kid, to a young man who is finding his way and his purpose.  Life has not been kind to him in many ways, and he has those scars, which will help him to see the heart of others who often feel misunderstood and lonely.  I spend a lot of time being scared that my children will experience yet another loss, because they have already experienced far more than is fair, but I think God is trying to show me that each piece of our life is part of who we are and whose we are.

When we rely on our human ability to control our environment we will always feel inadequate.

It has been a long, painful lesson in letting go.  It's not over yet.

I'm grateful that the God who created the Universe knows me personally, knows my heart, and never leaves me no matter how much I fail.  When my mouth fails me, He knows my heart.  When my arms fail me, He knows my strength.  When my feet fail me, He knows my way.

"You Know Me" Bethel Music

You have been and You will be
You have seen and You will see

You know when I rise and when I fall
When I come or go You see it all
You hung the stars and you move the sea
And still You know me

Whoa oh oh oh oh oh oh
oh oh oh You know me [repeat]

Nothing is hidden from Your sight
Wherever I go, You find me
You know every detail of my life
You are God and You don't miss a thing

You memorize me