Functional

We have started watching a series called Paradise.  Without delving into the plot of the story, we learned yesterday that one of the main characters has experienced the loss of her son. While the writers haven't divulged what the young boy died from, we can gather that it was a sudden illness that he eventually succumbed to. As you can imagine, this was a difficult episode to watch. Furthermore, I gather from reading online posts (without revealing any spoilers!) that the character's development is largely based on how she has dealt with the grief of losing her son. 

In one particular flashback scene, we see the character, codenamed "Sinatra," with a therapist, begging her for help. The therapist tells Sinatra that healing is a long and gradual process. She looks at the therapist with wide eyes, exclaiming, "I don't want to be healed! I'm broken forever! I just want to be functional! I still have a daughter. I want to be functional for her!" (not verbatim, but you get the idea.

Talk about flashback! It was a flashback and an ongoing reality for me. People who don't understand grief, especially the grief that comes from losing a child, no matter their age, is something you never "get over" or ever "heal" from. This grief lives with a parent for the rest of their days. Yes, we do, in almost every case, become "functional." We have others who depend on us, so God still has a purpose for us while we reside on this planet we call Earth.

It's not "healing" that's a slow process. It is becoming functional, and it truly does take time.  When I look back, there were small steps throughout the first six months after Jessica's death.  In the first few weeks, I didn't want to go anywhere or see anyone other than my close family. I had nothing to give. Nothing to offer. I had no joy in my heart. The summer was a blur. 

"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed." Psalm 34:18

It was in September that I can say I had a turn.  We started going to a church and a small group in our new community. I also started attending a ladies' Bible study. All days were still not easy, and many of them still involved tears, but I did become more "functional" as time went on. I've even started volunteering in the community, which has also been good for my soul.

While there are some days when I'm barely "functional," I have more days where I live and love life. I love my family, and they still need me. I have intentional commitments in the community to keep me accountable. I continue to put one foot in front of the other, even on days when I wake up "feeling" no joy. 

"This is a sacred day before our Lord. Don’t be dejected and sad, for the joy of the Lord is your strength!” Nehemiah 8:10b NLT

Grief is truly a journey, which I believe is a lifelong one while I walk this earth. The culmination will be realized when I meet Christ after this life on earth. I also have the hope that I will see Jessica again. 

Things that may not make sense now will then become clear. 

Click on the picture below for a clip from the show Paradise. 

                                                                                     

Life and Loss and Mother's Day

I hesitated to write about Mother's Day last week, but I feel God wants me to work through some of my feelings over the past couple of weeks.  This Mother's Day is the second one where Jessica is not here to celebrate with us, but it seems I've had a harder time this year than I did last year. Part of it, I think, is because last year I was so numb.  It had only been two months since her death, and I was merely "alive" at that point and barely functioning. This one was different. 

I also think that it was difficult because, in that span of 8 days, we attended two funerals and one celebration of life. One funeral was for a 16-year-old boy, so the empathy we felt for the parents seemed to bring back some emotions experienced immediately after Jessica's passing. 

The other funeral included a 90-year-old man who lived a good life, worked hard, and had the support of his loving family. This funeral was back in our hometown area, so there were several people we had not seen in some time. I ended up receiving condolences from people who had not had the opportunity to express them last year. This involved retelling some of the events surrounding Jessica's death, which, again, brought back some of the details I had tucked away the previous year. 

The celebration of life was for a gentleman that my husband had known since elementary school, who died suddenly at age 62.  His wife was devastated.  I could feel her pain when I hugged her. It was like her insides had melted to her feet. I remember that feeling, and it came back through her. 

For the past few weeks and months, I believed that I was walking through the grief journey in a healthy way, but these events have me thinking that I have more to resolve. I know my journey will never really end, but it will change. 

At my age, dealing with death will continue to become more commonplace with our friends and family aging and dealing with different maladies. Mike and I have resolved to be more mindful of being present with people walking through a loss. During our journey, we found that the support from people in those early days and weeks was life-giving. However, being present for others can also bring up our own experiences, losses, and pain.

It is only through the strength and love of Christ and the people He places in our lives that we can continue to walk through each difficult journey in our lives. I know that although my relationship with the Lord has been challenged, I have never doubted His love for me. It is only through His strength that I'm able to live through each day.  I am learning to embrace the pain I feel in my own life so that I can come alongside others. 

I did make it through Mother's Day, albeit with tears along the way. I saw my own mother and felt my son's love expressed in his unique way. I also had the chance to run and play with my grandchildren, who continue to bring me joy. I do miss the excitement and spirit Jessica would bring to an event. Although we may try to replicate it in some way, it will never be the same. 

What will the next Mother's Day, or even the next event, bring? I'm not sure, and while part of me fears the accompanying emotions it may bring, I know I must face it, but I will never face it alone.

"Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be afraid, for I am your God. I will strengthen you; I will help you; I will hold on to you with my righteous right hand." Isaiah 41:10

The Song in Your Heart

 

I've always loved to sing, especially singing to the Lord.  As you may have read in an earlier blog post, Praise You in the Storm, after Jessica passed away, I lost my voice.  I found it difficult to sing words to songs I no longer felt to be true. Singing about healing or receiving God's goodness or blessings seemed inauthentic. My precious daughter was gone from this world, and I was (and still am) deep in grief over her death.  

Slowly, after my voice returned, I started to sing the songs. I still had moments where a particular line rendered me silent, but my heart was directed towards God, and our relationship was healing. I always believed God was and still is good, no matter what happened in the past with Jessica's illness and death or what will happen in the future. None of us knows what lies ahead, but with Him by our side, we will never be alone. 

Because I have always loved singing, I have often thought about singing with others, not just at church during worship, which is a beautiful experience and an expression of love for the Lord.  One day, while scrolling through Facebook, I saw a post about an information session for a new gospel choir. The only prerequisite to join is "love to sing." I love to sing, and I love to sing to the Lord. I didn't have experience singing in a choir other than way back when I was 10 years old, but choir experience was not a requirement to join, so I felt comfortable attending. 

I figured attending an informational meeting wouldn't be intimidating, so I went that first night. The leaders of the choir meeting were passionate about sharing the gospel through song with the people of our community, and I resonated with that vision. It is only through Christ that I have been able to walk this most difficult road. I believe others need this for their journey in life, at least to know they have the free will to choose. 

Well, it wasn't just a meeting that night; our choir director, Terry, had us singing right away. The song we began to learn was titled "Dreaming of A City."  I felt the Lord speak to my heart that night. The song starts, "I've been dreaming of a city, far beyond the sky. Where the suffering's over. Get my wings and fly. When Jesus says, "It's over," oh, what joy that will be.  Where there's no more dreaming, I'll be home at last."

My heart cried out with joy as I sang these words. Since Jessica went to be with the Lord, my heart and mind have been set on heaven. I've read a couple of books on the topic, including Randy Alcorn's Heaven, so this song had words singing to my heart. I felt it was a confirmation that I was on the right path with this choir. 

Recently, after several months of practice, our choir launched at a small church venue with several songs, but "Dreaming of a  City" will always hold a special place in my heart.  The hope of heaven for those who trust in Christ for this life and the next. 

Till we meet again, sweet Jessica. 

St. Thomas Community Gospel Choir singing, "Dreaming of a City."

"Sing a new song to the Lord! Let the whole earth sing to the Lord!
Sing to the Lord; praise his name. Each day, proclaim the good news that he saves.
Publish his glorious deeds among the nations.
Tell everyone about the amazing things he does.

Great is the Lord! He is most worthy of praise!  He is to be feared above all gods.
The gods of other nations are mere idols, but the Lord made the heavens!
Honor and majesty surround him; strength and beauty fill his sanctuary."

Psalm 96:1-6 NLT 

#hopeofheaven #praisethroughsong #griefjourney