And so I don't think about it, I move on, month by month, year by year. And before I know it-here we are at year 5. This will be the 5th Christmas without him. So much has changed, and time has healed so many things. I no longer hide from the mailman bringing those happy Christmas cards with smiling families and live children. The music this time of year lifts me up and I find myself wanting more of it. The thought of family gatherings seems fun and not burdensome. And the hardest one-every time I see things that say "baby's first Christmas," I smile. SMILE. Not throw up, but smile. Because its Judah's first Christmas here and he's a baby and so I think of him and smile (and maybe, just maybe buy it!). For the shortest amount of time I allow myself to feel happy that I've come this far. However, the guilt is right there and feels crushing.
Because what I hear in my head is:
You are forgetting him
You don't love him
If you can be this happy maybe you were never really sad over his death
Maybe he never really died
Maybe he was never here
Maybe he never existed
Maybe you're crazy and just made the whole thing up
Now before you call the hospital and have me committed, know that these thoughts are normal (at least according to my counselor). And what these thoughts are-all of them-are lies. LIES. But thats the thing with lies, when they come one after another over and over again it gets hard to tell them from the truth. Hard to recognize where they end and begin.
Oh Advent and Christmas season. I've missed you and Im glad you are bringing me joy again. But what do I do with the guilt and the lies that also come? I turn to the Lord and His word. Today's psalm was from Psalm 27 and its a favorite. I'll leave you with the verses that Ive been praying all day to fight the lies in my head :
Teach me your way, Lord;
lead me in a straight path
because of my oppressors.
Do not turn me over to the desire of my foes,
for false witnesses rise up against me,
spouting malicious accusations.
I remain confident of this:
I will see the goodness of the Lord
in the land of the living.
Wait for the Lord;
be strong and take heart
and wait for the Lord.
I do believe that I shall see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. As we wait for the Lord to come this season, may we continue to be strong and take heart.
This so perfectly describes how things have been for me this year, too. Hugs and prayers for the joy to shine through right beside your grief and love for Caleb.
ReplyDeleteThis so perfectly describes how things have been for me this year, too. Hugs and prayers for the joy to shine through right beside your grief and love for Caleb.
ReplyDeleteAfter the birth of two beautiful children, in 1987 and 1989, we lost seven babies due to miscarriage and one still birth. In 1993 we adopted a son. In 1997 I miraculously, gave birth to our youngest, a son. I gave that pregnancy to the Blessed Mother and she carried the mantel of that difficult pregnancy for me. Many years later, we lost our 18 year old firstborn son in a car accident in 2006. The next year, both my parents died unexpectedly. That was 10 years ago and through faith and the habit of prayer and a life lived by clinging to Christ, we have, rather miraculously, survived. I say survived because when your child dies, you die. You have to fight to live again - and more importantly, want to live again. I've written extensively in my own journal about this - and the many supernatural moments I've experienced where God has spoken clearly to me, been present to me in a mystical way and where my son, who is now with God, has also been present to me. I wanted to tell you how beautiful your writing and thoughts are- and how clearly you have described this - the worst of all journeys. Your love in sharing this painful, terrible reality is clear, strong and generous. We are supernatural friends and I thank you for your hard, painful work. Do not stop. God bless and keep you, dear Ryanne.
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