It’s been months since I’ve written anything. I’ve been preoccupied with getting our book finished and honestly haven’t had much to say. That’s not to say that my mind hasn’t been full of thoughts because it seems to be overloaded at times. Sometimes the thoughts are too much, and the idea of getting one complete sentence out seems impossible.
There has been a lot of soul-searching the last few months. Once January hit, I thought I might be going crazy. Not everyday crazy, but literal crazy. I texted a friend, who just happens to be a professional counselor (darn the luck!), and asked her how much she charges to talk to crazy people (aka ME). I needed confirmation that I was indeed sane because I thought maybe I wasn’t. It’d been over six months since my Katie died and I just knew I should be feeling less heartbroken, less emotional, less sad. But, the sadness seemed to only intensify with each day. Richard was working and traveling for work quite a bit and I was alone a lot … all day, every day. Being alone has never bothered me. After all, I am an only child and it’s always been my norm. But, this aloneness was different. It got to be too comfortable, but in a bad way. So comfortable I never wanted to leave the house. I was intentional about planning my days to where leaving the house was minimal. The smallest things were starting to become difficult, like getting dressed or washing my hair. Yeah, not good. That’s when I knew I needed to talk to someone.
I think a lot of people slip into depression because they don’t reach out once they notice the signs. Then, it just begins to get worse and harder to pull yourself out of. I wasn’t depressed. But, I was sad. Very sad. Rightly so. I mean … I don’t feel guilty for being sad. And, that’s the thing I am coming to grips with.
I’ve been taught quite the opposite in the Christian faith. We’re supposed to be joyful. We have a hope. There’s no reason for sadness. It’s true … we should choose joy; we do have a hope. But, that’s not to say we should just push sadness and grief to the side. When someone is sad or depressed, there is the idea that they are less of a Christian because they should be taking those thoughts captive, of course. Or focusing their eyes on Jesus, the good things, and the blessings. That’s all fine and dandy in thought, but much more difficult to do in times where sorrow and grief are called for. In John 16:22, Jesus Himself, told the disciples regarding His death … “NOW is your time of grief, but I will see you again, and you will rejoice.” Two verses earlier (John 12:20) He says, “You WILL weep and mourn … you WILL grieve, but your grief will turn to joy.” When will their grief turn to joy? When they see Jesus again. It’s the same for us who’ve lost those closest to us, the ones we’ve loved the most. This grief will remain until we see them again.
I know that the grief will change, but I’m learning to understand it more. My counselor friend said this and it changed me: “It’s okay.” That’s all.
It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to grieve. I thought there was no way I was okay because, after all, it had been over six months. I am all about resolution and restoration quickly. I see an issue in life. I deal with it. It’s resolved. Then, I can move on. Grief doesn’t fit into my way of thinking and life plan. It does what it wants. You just have to know how to handle it when it shows up. And, sometimes handling it means not putting on public pants and crying at home or visiting your child’s grave for a talk. But, not every day is going to be like that.
In my mind, I thought I should be feeling less grief, less sadness, not more at this point in time. But, when she also told me that it was still early in the grieving process, that’s when I realized I have a long road ahead. It’s when I realized grief is something I will wrestle with daily. I hate it. But, I love it.
It’s the grief that draws me closer to God. It’s the grief that never lets me forget my Katie. It’s the grief that reminds me of all the things we went through. It’s the grief that reminds me of the hope that I have. It’s the grief that assures me that I will see Katie again.
I am learning to be okay with not being okay some days. It’s where I live now. Jesus is okay with it too. He came to live in that space with me. It’s His specialty. He will never leave me to deal with it alone. He is always here. To order your copy of our book, Still Rising, go here.
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