Another Grief Bomb

Two minutes before a call with my boss (who thankfully is also my friend), I listened to a voice memo from my sister. It completely caught me off guard.

In it, she thanked me for a marriage book that I had given to her 2 years ago called, "The Empowered Wife". She had just pulled it out again and it was having a really good effect on her life and marriage. Such good things. Such things to rejoice over!

And yet - pow! Grief blindsided me.

Two years ago I was reading marriage books and working on my marriage, and like my sister, seeing good effects! Two years ago I heard about this book in a homeschool co-op that P and I were a part of - with friends that I was getting to know and really enjoying. Two years ago I led a co-worker through the book to help her build her young marriage right before starting a bunch of harmful habits. This was literally two years ago - the Spring of 2020. Two years ago I remember sending a quote about what it means to respect your husband to my sister and my mom because it was just way too good not to share. I was learning so much about myself and my attitudes and how they were affecting G. We were finding more peace and harmony and happiness in our relationships.

Those two years ago feels like a different lifetime. Everything has changed.

My sweetheart is gone. I watched him die, helpless - oh so helpless to stop it. I have no marriage to work on. I have no husband to treat with respect. And gosh does it ruin hopes of remarriage fixing this mess I'm in to remember that marriage is hard! Truth hurts.

We don't homeschool because I must work. P is in school. And last night it took 2 hours to get simple homework done plus a huge battle between us and me locking myself in my room and crying on my bed. No, homeschool is a thing of the past.

And those sweet friends I was making? I miss that community. It is so hard to make new friends! I don't see them because our lives run in different circles now. They both have helped me through this journey of grief but I feel so guilty reaching out to them because what do I have to give? I just take, take, take.

And I'm not mentoring young married women anymore. Though having lost G, maybe I could be a better mentor than ever before because I've gone through the full course of a marriage and know its value in a new way having lost it. But I'm a mess. And those women now bring me meals, and watch my son, and pray for me when I cry in meetings.

I'm just going to come out and say it. I hate this. I lay on my bed yesterday with P pounding on my lock door and just keep thinking, "Damn it, Damn it, Damn it". Like Damn it all. This is too hard!!!

Too painful. Too disappointing. Too lonely. Too much change. Too much loss. Too much sorrow. Too much work to be barely scraping by. Too many unanswered questions. Too many unknowns. Too much exhaustion that no eye cream in the world could hide. Too much trying to find people to help. Too much being the one who always reaches out. TOO MUCH.

I asked for prayer from a new friend (a widow - I love her so much) and from UT and UN - left my phone and computer downstairs because I was done trying to find help and hope in humanity or the internet and somehow made it to bed.

Rough dreams. And here I am. Another day. Desperately needing Jesus to help me. Desperately sad that year 2 really is hard. That I am more at a loss today than I was in Jan. 2021. Reality. That's what year two is so far. It is reality. Unshakable, unchangeable reality.

Jesus is not rescuing me from this. So I pray that he willl rescue me through it. If I'm having to walk through the fire either way, may it at least restore me, refine me, burn off all the crap in my heart. Its inescapable. So it must be that the Lord of the universe put me here and is keeping me here. Much to ponder right there. Gosh does this burn.