Over a month ago, my mom left us and entered into the beautiful, forever presence of our precious Lord and King. It has been a hard thing for me to write about publicly, although my journal has been filling up from almost-daily entries. February has come and gone. I've been doing a lot of reflecting as I'm trying to figure out my "new normal" and how all of this works when you feel such a hole in your heart. How do you walk back into your life after such a blow, when this special part of you has changed but everything around you remains the same?
Grieving is a new emotion for me. Right now, it's something that creeps up in quiet moments. Or seemingly random moments--like when I see pickles at the grocery store, or remember that she helped me sew my kitchen curtains when I'm making coffee next to them. Yesterday was especially painful, as both my girls were coughing and sick, and all I wanted to do was to call my mom to hear some assuring words and her typical empathetic "aww." Realizing I couldn't made me pretty frustrated and downhearted. Olivia has been asking me "Sad?" when I cry, and her sweet little self will usually also offer a hug, which is the absolute best thing to receive when I am sad. It's been a good opportunity to talk to her about sadness, and that Nana is in the wonderful care of Jesus, during these times.
I feel pretty un-myself these days, but I know I'm not alone, and it is only by God's grace and provision that I can bear this grief. I've been praying for peace, and have been thinking a lot about seeking God's peace in my life, and in the lives of my family. Jesus said, "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid." (John 14:27) I mourn, but not as one without hope.
And so, that's where I'm at these days. Muddling through this wilderness, waiting on the Lord. As Easter approaches I take a new, great comfort in His words: "Because I live, you also will live." (John 14:19)
