HOPE (shouldn't that be the title of all my posts?!)

I have been really depressed as of late.  I swing back and forth on a pendulum and it is causing disorientation.  I feel as if I can't find any sure ground to start my recovery.

Everyone has gone back to normal life and I feel completely alone and unable to express how I am really doing.  Maybe this is the isolation of grief that I was warned about!?!?  For so long people would ask and sit and listen.  Now I force my grief on others whether they ask or not.  I know they care about me, but I have no one that really cares like a constant, daily, attentive companion that Conner was to me.  I know that there is probably a "big fish" aspect of Conner and our marriage now that he is gone, but I also know how cherished he made me feel.  I am lonely.

I felt like I was going to boil over today so, I dropped the youngest off at Mother's Day Out and retreated to Conner's grave.  I have no idea why I feel so close to Conner here, or why the Lord speaks so clearly to me here, but this place comforts me.

I sit here on his footstone, at his feet and bawl my eyes out.  I hear people getting in and out of their cars at the church behind me and I am angry that I don't have a solitary place to grieve. 

I think about how I would like to be buried here with him.  How I only keep going for the sake of our kids.  How very weary I am of living every day like this.  How tired I am of struggling.  How dark and sick and dead this world is to me.  How sad and lonely and angry and tired I am.  How confusing God is to me.  How abandoned I feel.  How ugly and unwanted I feel.  How broken, so very broken, I am. 

I hate this grave.  I hate that he is gone.  But if this is how it is going to be, then I want to be in this grave too.  I want to be done.

I don't want a new life.

I want what I had.  I want the comfort of Conner and our marriage and our happy life.  The struggle on this side of his death cannot seem worth it.  I try to come up with scenarios where something in mine and the kids future could be so grand that this pain and suffering could be worth it, but it never works.  I can never find a reason.  I can never find a purpose great enough.

I am so cynical.  What do I do about that?

Last Saturday we were on our way home from Dallas, so I had two and a half hours to just think and drive.  I began sinking deeper and deeper into my sorrow.  The cloak of sorrow enveloped me and I was hopeless.

As I drove, I thought about C.S. Lewis' comment in, A Grief Observed, that he took the only pleasure one has in grief-of that of fighting back at the Lord ("I was getting from it the only pleasure a man in anguish can get; the pleasure of hitting back.").  I thought about how completely untrue that was of me today.  I had no fight left.  I couldn't even muster the strength to fight back.  I was spent, I am listless.

My spirals come hard and swift.  It takes me no time at all to sink into the pit that seems impossible to get out of.  I am tired of being so unhappy.

When I get home, I can do little more than sit.  Sit in my sorrow.  My grief is like a weight that threatens to drown me daily. 

I am torn.  I do not want to carry on as if Conner meant nothing to me-as if every aspect of my life is not affected.  But, on the other hand, this grief seems unbearable at times.  Like I want to tear my heart from my chest and throw it away. 

How strange it is to long for death!  I am 34, I was 32 when he died.  Is this not too young to want to die!?!?  Shouldn't I be looking forward to my life?  Yet, I am craving it's end. 

So as I sit in the house, with the kids playing around me, I run across Mary Kathryn's recent Instagram post.  The picture is of a tree with a hole through the middle of it.  It is blooming white blooms and the caption reads, "This is a pear tree in one of our pastures.  It's completely hollow, has a hole in the middle, and yet buds every year without fail.  #beautyandstrength"

Immediately I am struck with the relation to myself.  That, though I know I have a hole (and always will have one), I pray that one day I will bloom again.

I comment, "Maybe that will be me..."

Mary Kathryn replies, "you may always have a hole but you could never be hollow.  Love you!"


I know that HE sees me.  I know that this simple Instagram post was for me....to encourage me.  But when the pain is so intense and the sorrow so suffocating, little seems to truly help.  Even knowing that HE sees me feels like a Band-Aid as I bleed out.  How can I tell my soul that the miraculous is enough?  It is miraculous, I know.  I just feel wounded beyond repair.


My friend, Kristen had asked me how I was doing on Friday, before we went to Dallas for the night.  I replied, "Life is just hard and I feel like I just accept that."

She answers, "I'm so sorry.  I have been trying to be sensitive to the weight of your world right now.  Know that we are always available at your beck and call but will also always respect your space, when space is needed.  Praying tonight for the energy and strength to continue.  Praying for His warmth to envelope you tonight and provide for a restful night.  And praying for something unforeseen whether big or small to just knock you off your feet and put a beaming smile on your face because you KNOW it's His provision."

Friday night, as I lay in a hotel room with the four littles asleep and loneliness as my unwanted companion, I reply, "Thank you so much my friend!  There just aren't words to describe the brokenness that follows losing your best friend and soul mate.  I feel like I will never be ok again, so I deeply appreciate those prayers!"

I ended the night, watching a movie by myself, in deep inner unrest. 


As I am checking my text messages on Saturday evening, I find Kristen's text in response to our conversation on Friday.  It reads, "Have you heard Danny Gokey's song Tell Your Heart to Beat Again?  The story behind the song is so impactful and hopeful.  I don't recommend it to you flippantly or without care.  The background of the song isn't even about romantic love.  I encourage you to listen to the first couple of minutes of the video to hear what inspired the lyrics.  It WOWS me!  And I PRAY you receive this message well and know that I send this text with great respect for you, for Conner, and for your kids."

Now, I know that Danny Gokey's first wife died.  So something that is easier for me is to listen to and take advice from people who understand loss.  People who have traveled the dark road of sorrow.  My interest is perked and my ears are open.

The story behind the song is beautiful and his message was simple:  HOPE!

hope (from Oxford Dictionaries

 

NOUN

1. a feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen:

    

   • a person or thing that may help or save someone:
   • grounds for believing that something good may happen:
2. archaic

   a feeling of trust.

VERB

1. want something to happen or be the case:

    

   • intend if possible to do something:

    

 

"We have this HOPE as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.  It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, where Jesus, who went before us, has entered on our behalf.  He has become a high priest forever, in the order of Melchizedek."  Hebrews 6:19-20 (emphasis mine)

 

 

Though my heart is not yet fixed, though I remain broken, I sit in this graveyard with the expectation and desire for my Great High Priest to repair the damage done to it.  I have Scriptural grounds for believing that HE is the Healer and that one day, I will be completely healed from my broken heart.

 

My active part in the matter is my intent to hope in the Lord and His ability to heal me as supported by the evidence in His Word, in my life, and in the lives of His Chosen.

 

Something strikes me as I sit in a graveyard covered in white and yellow wildflowers: the only purple wildflowers that I can see are growing on top of Conner's grave.  I cannot help but to recall that purple stands for royalty and wealth. 

 

 

 

Our family headstone has a verse under our family name.  The verse is Proverbs 22:1, "A good name is to be chosen over great wealth; favor is better than silver and gold."  I think how wealthy Conner is, as Christ's co-heir in glory-as royalty (Hebrews 8:17).  How wealthy that man is to have left such a good name because he desired God over all that this world had to offer.  How truly wealthy I can be if I will but HOPE in the same promises that Conner and a multitude of other witnesses have hoped in (Hebrews 12:1).

 

 

 

"Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see. This is what the ancients were commended for."

 

^"All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance, admitting that they were foreigners and strangers on earth. People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead, they were longing for a better country—a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them."

 

Hebrews 11:1-2; 13-16 (NIV)

 

Hope is not a completed task.  Hope is something that I am constantly looking forward to.  Hope is the thing that will keep me on the edge of my seat until I breath my last.  Hope is a feeling of trust in the ONE who will save me.  Hope is the stuff to come.

 

And, I am satisfied.  My weary soul is refreshed.  My strength is renewed by HIM.  My spirit is flooded with HIS Peace.  The chaos of the world and my grief are silenced by the calm voice of The ONE I hope in.