After I lost Donald, people told me how hard all the firsts were going to be. The first Christmas, the first anniversary and the first birthday, all were tough, but for me it’s the seconds. All the seconds are making me so aware of how unaware I was just a year ago. Maybe this was God’s way of protecting me through the loss of my husband. He knew I couldn’t handle the reality all at once. This time of seconds is my awakening. The fog is lifting and reality is smack in my face.
With eyes open I’m noticing how everything is falling apart. Even the fence on the side of my house has rusted through and is held up only by the vines that have grown around it. Each car has some major issue with it. And the termites have decided to move in and make themselves at home. Part of me wants to sell it all and run away. The tent life wouldn’t be that bad, right? If I don’t own anything then I don’t have to be responsible for it.
Unfortunately I’ve been checked out of my kids lives as well. While on autopilot, they have been experiencing their own rusty bits. They have been parenting themselves. I took a sabbatical I wasn’t aware I was on. My first and foremost maintenance is with my kids. Time for tough love! I can already tell that they have been craving for my return. Even though it is painful for them to have a reality check, reality is what they want.
“Hello, I’m your mother and I’m back”!
I’ve had to look at myself as well. What have I been neglecting when it comes to me? I just shared with my Young Life friends how in high school I became an expert of putting on a fake facade. No-one could see the real me. The broken dirty girl full of shame. I did the same thing this last year and a half. I couldn’t dare let anyone see how sad I was. How I couldn’t even remember to breath sometimes, let alone notice my world falling apart around me. I was clinging on by my fingernails. All hidden behind a sweet smile. A smile meant to deflect any attention directed at my situation. The famous “I’m fine” we all throw out there so no-one can see the pain.
I thank God for the constant reminder through it all to “Come to me”. It was this safe place that held me together when I couldn’t do it myself. I still cling to this verse when my world seems to crumble around me.
Matthew 11:28 Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.
Heavenly Father – Thank you for being a place of rest and restoration. I pray for others going through a great loss. I pray they will run to your loving arms and find this rest you offer. Lord give them courage to seek you out and lay their burdens at your feet. In your holy name Jesus, Amen.