I’m finding lately in my life that there are good moments and there are bad moments.
Last night, I had a bad moment. It started when we went to an evening church service and two rows behind us sat a couple with a baby. The first time I heard the baby make a sound, my heart lurched and I found myself longing and aching. Working at a children’s museum, each day I go into work, I have to mentally and emotionally prepare myself to be bombarded by babies and children. Preparing usually helps me cope but I was not prepared for this service. So my mind went into self-preservation mode and thus began a descent. The day before, seeing and hearing a baby brought me joy and laughter cause honestly, the baby was just so darned cute.
It’s fascinating to me how this whole grieving and healing process works. An experience I had one day could be positive and wonderful but the next day, the same experience could send me running to a private room because I can’t control the tears. I’m thankful my husband is a patient, kind, and understanding man.
I grew up hearing about the five stages of loss and grief but didn’t know them in detail. When we lost the baby, I decided not to look into or research them. I didn’t want what I researched and discovered to have an impact on how I reacted to things. To put it simply, I didn’t want to experience an emotion just because I felt like I was supposed to.
One of the books I’m currently reading is called “A Grace Disguised: How the Soul Grows Through Loss” by Jerry Sittser. [Quick back story: Jerry lost his mother, wife, and daughter at the same time when their car was hit by a drunk driver. He, along with his other three children survived the accident. He writes this book about what he’s learned through that journey.] I like how raw, honest, and revealing Jerry is. One of the things he mentions in his book is the danger with calling a part of the grief and healing process a ‘stage’ because of the preconceived notion that once you go through one stage, you’re done with it and cannot/should not return to it. However, that is simply not how grieving/healing works. I agree.
There are moments and days when I think “okay, we’re moving forward; this is good” and I can 95% of the way genuinely say “it is well with my soul,” but sometimes, just moments later I find myself empty or angry or bitter. I’m coming to find that it’s okay to have those bad moments as long as overall, I see which direction I’m supposed to head towards.
God is slowly but surely healing us and I’m thankful for His patience and kindness through my questions and anger. I look forward to that time when I can say with 100% assurance that it is well with my soul.