Let me paint you the picture of the past few weeks.
Lots of crying. Heart wrenching sobs. Lots of dripping snot. Falling asleep to my tears. Waking up to tears. Feeling hopeless. Feeling inadequate as a mother. Feeling oh so tired. Feeling scared that Baby #2 is coming and it is only going to get harder. Escaping on Facebook. Escaping on instagram. Escaping on Twitter. Watching T.V. shows I don't like. Watching T.V. shows I like (YES THE BACHELORETTE). Not feeling big enough for really anything. Feeling furious with my marriage. Feeling furious with Rand. Demanding I be in places that I am not able to be. Messier than I would care to admit. Crazy thoughts.
BUT I also noticed this time some newer elements.
Choosing to still be in the midst of it. Letting myself cry. Letting myself cry in places I normally wouldn't. Not giving in to the fight emotions every time. Not giving into the flight urge most times. Walking to the grocery when I needed "flight". Going to bed early when I needed. Trying to be still and listen to where my heart is and honor it. Calling a friend to hang. Going for a walk. Going to the gym. Being silent when I needed. Seeing my choices and processing where the line between choosing and performance sits. Applying for part time jobs and not letting myself spiral to the what-ifs that it normally does. Waiting. Grieving. Releasing.
Allowing Rand to be and releasing some of my control. Getting to experience a minivacation. Builidng trust. Sitting back. Enjoying. Going with it. Watching my husband be a daddy. Watching my husband be my husband. Feeling fought for and protected. Being loved in my love language. Honoring my heart. Enjoying good food. Dreaming about adventure. Waking up and only having 10 minutes to get ready for a wedding. Breathing Deep. Getting Angry. Breathing Deep. Grieving. Being. Regretting bringing a 14 month old to a wedding. Breathing. Going with it. Enjoying friends from high school. Dancing with my loves. Cleaning leaky diapers.
I'm learning to trust myself. I'm learning to trust the grief process differently and not give it as much power. But that doesn't mean it isn't utterly wretched.
There are a lot of posts in my blog that will remain in draft mode because, well, it wouldn't be wise to let you into all of my heart. But I will summarize them by saying they were messy, wild, and crazy.
So that is step one and two of my typical grief cycle. Here is three. I start to feel alive again. Things reawaken in my heart. I notice that these things are most often reawakened when I come out of that low. I enjoy this spot of the grief cycle most. I don't feel as much pressure and my heart feels more free to be and be with itself.
The dreams typical cycle around being with friends, Rand, Ellie, and creating. Doing little experiments in the kitchen or the yard. Being active. Trying new things. Pinterest. Making meals. Treating my body better with small choices. I don't know. Its fun.
The next step typical has to do with spiraling.
I can start to get clutchy with those dreams and where my heart is coming alive. Forcing myself to exists under the standards of those dreams instead of allowing organic creativity and thought which doesn't know the confines of pressure or standards. This is a step where my heart can start to go dead.
Another spiraling point would have to do with giving myself permission. A day holds a lot of grief. Sometimes it may seem small and sometimes big, but regardless there is a consequence to it, pain. Often I don't give myself permission to grieve or feel. I am much quicker at blaming, either myself or others, then giving myself permission to feel.
Here is a little example. Ellie wakes up early from her nap. I am in the middle of working on something. I am left with a choice. One choice looks to the self and the other looks to something bigger and more powerful. Often I look to self. Sometimes I will feel grief. It may seem simple. But I am no expert about entering pain. Pain has always symbolized making "the wrong choice" for me. But what if it wasn't about the right or wrong choice and what if both were often painful?
So what I typically do is look to what my head is telling me healthy looks like. I should grieve this right now... entering it would allow for there to be a release. Giving myself permission to be sad and gentle with myself.
It is there that the next transition occurs.
I was struck on sunday by what the speaker was saying. We were looking at Psalm 32. The psalmist speaks of "keeping silent and his bones wasting away through his groaning all day long (vs. 3) and his strength being sapped as in the heat of summer" (vs 4).
I found myself relating do him, near tears. He feels heavy, weak, and as though he is wasting away.
I also found myself intrigued and drawn to the instruction he offers.
"Then I acknowledge my sin to you and did not cover up my iniquity. I said "I will confess my transgressions to the Lord and you forgave the guilt of my sin" (vs. 5).
See. It's not a question of my salvation. (Most days) I do not question that moment when I asked Jesus to cover my sin. But what I desire is a dynamic relationship with him. One that is alive and active and tastes as sweet as honey. This dynamic relationship requires an offering of myself.
My sin. My pain. My heart. All of me.
Thats what I want.
No matter the form of grief, Ellie waking up early from a nap or Kia chewing my favorite pair of sandals, looking to self and looking to God are what I am left with to face that pain. Sunday I was struck by how often I still look towards self and the awakened desire to look to something more.
This passage speaks of honesty, forgiveness and a movement towards joy.
More then just an acknowledgement of sin, but a confession of transgression.
The difference I was struck by is that I've gotten pretty good at aknowledging my sin. I often know or sense when I have messed up, whether towards my husband, my child, or myself. But this passage asks for something more.
A confession of transgression, a repentant heart.
Jesus. Here I sense even now that I am creating this into a formula. The heart can't live in the confines of that. I do sense you beckoning my heart towards you. Bringing my heart up to speed with where my head lies. It seems that I have been trying for so long to look towards myself. To try and wrap my head around truth or the realites of the heart so that I can bring my heart somewhere. I can't. It's failing, miserably. But there you still are. Calling me back to yourself, so gently and with an enticement that tastes alive. Would you teach my heart repentance? Would you counsel me with the loving eye you promised this psalmist. I feel like your the last place I look most often. I long to taste your sweet love and gentle instruction.
Blessed is the one
whose transgressions are forgiven,
whose sins are covered.
2
Blessed is the one
whose sin the Lord does not count against them
and in whose spirit is no deceit.
3
When I kept silent,
my bones wasted away
through my groaning all day long.
4
For day and night
your hand was heavy on me;
my strength was sapped
as in the heat of summer.[b]
5
Then I acknowledged my sin to you
and did not cover up my iniquity.
I said, “I will confess
my transgressions to the Lord.”
And you forgave
the guilt of my sin.
6
Therefore let all the faithful pray to you
while you may be found;
surely the rising of the mighty waters
will not reach them.
7
You are my hiding place;
you will protect me from trouble
and surround me with songs of deliverance.
8
I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go;
I will counsel you with my loving eye on you.
9
Do not be like the horse or the mule,
which have no understanding
but must be controlled by bit and bridle
or they will not come to you.
10
Many are the woes of the wicked,
but the Lord’s unfailing love
surrounds the one who trusts in him.
11
Rejoice in the Lord and be glad, you righteous;
sing, all you who are upright in heart!
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