I kept asking myself all Labor Day weekend, "why don't I write on the blog more?" I love to write. I want to share our story with so many people. so what's my problem?
well, self-doubt, for one thing. I often wonder, who the hell reads this blog? I don't track Google Analytics, b/c I've never wanted this site to be a fan base, or resemble social media at all, so I really don't know. I feel like I'm too depressing, too sad, or having a pity party.
But I also know that I'm not alone in grief. Grief comes in many forms. Losing a child is so complicated it's hard to even describe it....right now my soul just feels caved in. sort of, gnarled up, totaled, like a car in a bad wreck.
I read this today and it described where I'm at perfectly:
"There is a deeper fatigue that goes beyond physical tiredness. There is an emotional exhaustion that comes from experiencing heavy burdens and draining crises. There is a tiredness deep within your soul that comes from carrying the weight of the needs of others. [from my experience as a caretaker, I can speak to that.] You can go on a vacation [ahem, Hawaii], but your soul will not be restored.
Then, boom: "Go to Jesus and LET HIM give you rest. His rest will restore your soul as nothing else can." (from a daily devotional given to us.)
GOD will reclaim, repair, restore my broken soul. and hence came the realization...I haven't written much on the blog because I am working towards limiting God in my life. Fact is, all I feel like talking about some days is either 1) how fuckin sad I am or 2) my relationship with God (I know, sounds bipolar right? trust me, I feel it too.), and I've been afraid to publicly advertise it for fear of looking like a weirdo Jesus freak. well, I got news for some of ya....I am.
I was raised Catholic, I still am Catholic, I LOVE being a Catholic. I don't adhere to every doctrine the Church mandates (no female priests? no birth control? no bueno for this feminist.) but I LOVE being Catholic and going to mass, yet mass is not in the Hubbs' comfort zone, so we attend a small, nondenominational Christian church, 25 minutes away, held in the small auditorium of an elementary school where we know only 2 people. We have to pay $75 in babysitting to go every week, and it's a little too long in duration (if I'm being totally honest, sometimes over 2 hours! that's just too long for me. i'm used to one and done, 1 hour and it's on to donuts).
But we love it. Hubbs LOVES it. The pastor, Danny, is incredible. young, handsome, vibrant, with a beautiful smile and a beautiful wife, daper, open, vulnerable, with no "agenda", who cries often because he LOVES people so much (that's totally me, dude.) The people are kind, warm, average Americans with above average hearts. We feel so good after leaving this church, so hopeful, closer to Jesus, and closer together in marriage (which is a big effin deal for us, since Amelie's cancer and my Hubbs' suffering brought us nearly to the brink of divorce). I love this pastor, this church, and I am GRATEFUL for any place where I can let the Holy Spirit speak to me. church, yoga, music, silent mediation, dreams, food, my son's laughter, and friend's warm embrace, the darkness of a spin studio, the ocean, or.....wait for it....::::: Amelie's blog.
ok that all being said, I stopped praying to God a little after Amelie died (with the selfish exception of basically praying for myself). I felt too much guilt. Guilt at being mad at Him for allowing her to suffer so much, for Hubbs' depression, for my son's emotional confusion, for taking her away from me, for all of it. then more guilt for not trusting Him like I know I should be.
So I stopped really praying. stopped talking intimately about God. and the weight of grief felt heavier than ever. At the behest of one of my soul sisters, I started praying again. I'm not praying for him to take away the pain (I have though, I readily admit. In moments of total despair where I just curl into a ball in her room, clutching her 'Amelie doll' and her ashes...I have begged God in those moments to just make it all stop), but, generally, I only ask that he 1.) reveal her to me so that I may see her and 2.) show me the way forward.
and today, while praying in shavasana (there was no way I could be blank, my brain was all over the freakin' place, like a pinball machine, snap boom crack slap crack boing, those were my rapidly bouncing, manic thoughts today, so I just prayed, hard), I heard my Amelie say, "don't cry Mommy" then, when I asked God to show her to me, b/c I just want to SEE HER again, I remembered what Pastor Danny said in church, "Believe in what is unseen." I heard that phrase in my head over and over and over for about a full minute, "Believe in what is unseen."
When I got home, I looked it up in the Bible, I knew it was Corinthians chapter something verse something...boom. I was right.
2 Corinthians 4:18:
"As we look not to the things that are seen, but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal."
"transient"????? The only time I ever use that word is to describe a homeless person, you know, someone sneaky looking for drugs, wandering from place to place, up to no good. It always had a negative connotation for me.
So I researched that word more (I know this is turning into a school lesson, stay with me. for pete's sake, trust me, I have a point I'm hoping to get to, sooner or later...)
"For our light and transient troubles are achieving for us an everlasting glory whose weight is beyond description."
2 Corinthians 4:17, CJB (a version I do not normally read, but today it was source of insight. you know, just giving a shout out to my Jewish peeps). Ok, so my point is this: my troubles are transient. New Webster defines "transient" not as a criminal homeless person (that was this judgmental jerk) but as:
1. lasting only for a short time; impermanent.
"a transient cold spell"
synonyms: transitory, temporary, short-lived, short-term, ephemeral, impermanent, brief, short, momentary, fleeting, passing, here today and gone tomorrow.....
Our troubles are transient. FLEETING!! ....so I choose to believe in what is unseen. I will have ETERNITY with my little girl, I just have to believe, b/c this pain will NOT last forever! whether God "reveals" the Angel Amelie to me, or not. I am a Christian, thus I believe. and while this may make some of you readers cringe, I cannot hide speaking about it, for it is my daily, hourly, sometimes minute by minute path toward healing. (well, that and Frasier re-runs. have you watched that show recently? it's even FUNNIER with time. hysterical. I'm like a old lady, up at night by myself, watching Frasier with hot tea in bathrobe, cackling at the tv! #callmeMaude #embarrassingbuttrue)
"She believed, of course...because without something to believe in, life would be intolerable." -Rosamunde Pilcher.
So, one day, I can say, like Walter Shobcak to Jeffery Lebowski, "our troubles are over Dude."