I Refuse to Accept It

A couple hours after John died, I started having panic attacks. Full-blown, hyperventilating, crippling, panic attacks.

Every single one of them were brought on by the same thought "I don't want to do this".

I would look at whoever was next to me, widen my eyes in panic, and say "I don't want to do this" and then BAM, I could no longer breath. 

I cycled through reasons I refused to accept it. He couldn't be dead, we had just talked on the phone. There had to be some mistake. I never actually saw his body at the accident site, maybe they were wrong. Maybe they confused his body with someone else's. Any minute he could walk through our front door. Any second I would feel his arms around me...hear his voice comforting me...any moment.

I refused to accept it. And my body and mind paid the price over and over again. Debilitating panic and all breath stolen from my lungs. 

In the 4 months since his death I have learned a few things about what I will refuse to accept in my life. I realize that some things are not conscious choices. But, since I have no power over those, I will have to lay them at the foot of the cross.

Do you know how many times I've heard or read "it never gets better"? I refuse to believe that. I understand the deep trauma and pain that comes with loss. I've lost both my infant son and my husband. I know how much it hurts. But I will not live in a world consumed by pain and grief. I have been rescued and redeemed by a savior far greater than any suffering. If we don't believe that He can relieve such pain then what are we even doing here? 

That is not to say that we do not have to walk through devastating pain. Obviously we are walking the broken paths of a broken world, we will experience great suffering. But Christ will make it better. The power and comfort provided by the Holy Spirit is either life-changing or it is not. And I choose to believe that it effects every single part of my soul. I have seen and felt that comfort and healing in the 8 years since my son's death. And I feel it even now, in the 17 weeks since my husband's death.

I refuse to accept that I will hurt forever. 

I know that there are aspects of grief that will not conform to my will, but there are also aspects that I can control. There are so many ways I can influence my heart. My perspective matters, it shapes my experiences. I refuse to live a life of bitterness and regret because my son and husband died. I will not let that constantly shadow the world I have to continue to live in. 

 

I can choose to see the good and the joy that still exist in this world. I can choose to love the experiences and life I still get to enjoy. I will forever miss my little family, but that does not mean I will live life ONLY missing my family. Joy and grief can exist together.

I refuse to accept that grief can control me. 

I know that this world does not center around my grief, or around the death of my husband and son. However devastating my losses may have been to me, I know that this world is centered around the God who created it, and the savior who rescued it. 

If I blind myself with my own grief, then I am losing the very foundation on which I was created. I was created to bring glory to God. I was meant for so much more than the suffering that surrounds me. I cannot allow my pain to misdirect my heart. I cannot give up all semblance of the person I once was to embrace who grief would change me into. 

I refuse to accept that I might lose my purpose in my grief.

I am not the only one who matters, nor am I the one that matters most in the wake of John's death. 

The loss community is inundated with "self-care" ideology. It seems based on this idea that you can not pour into others' lives from an empty cup. But who are we at our core BUT empty cups? We can do nothing to fill our own cups up. That is the work of Jesus Christ. We must rely on him to fill our cups and trust that when He calls us to pour into others’ lives that He will supply the strength to do that. 

Obviously I don't mean that we ignore our needs and refuse to check in on our mental health. We need to be healthy people. Go to therapy, take breaks, share with friends, eat healthily.

But God does ask us to pour from empty cups all the time. The Bible is filled with examples of putting others before ourselves and few examples of "self-care".

Please do not come at me saying that I don’t care about taking care of yourself, especially in regards to mental health. I’m only saying that parts of the “self-care” movement seems a lot like gaslighting, and a direct antithesis to the gospel. 

I refuse to accept that I am the most important person in my life. 

We are not victims without control over ourselves. 

Take a good long look at your life. Take the time to think about what is in need of your refusal. Spend the effort deciding what is worthy of your support. 

We all get it wrong sometimes. But every single day is a new opportunity, another chance. I’m not here to demand perfection, nor do I claim to possess it. I’m here to question the standards the world has set for us. Is it for our ultimate good? Is it worthy of our effort? Is it gospel centered?

I refuse to accept that this world as the final authority in my life or in yours. We were made for so much more than that.