The Good...The Bad...Let's Talk About The Ugly

God, so often, leads me to these pages and asks me to give more of myself than I am, initially, willing to give. Vulnerability is a sacred gift and a brutal undertaking. I am honored that you take the time to share in mine, time and time again.

This week has been one of the hardest weeks I've had since the first month after John died. I fell apart multiple times, weeping onto journal pages, and fighting the panic that seems to live in the the hearts of the bereaved. I tried to figure out the reason. Why now, why here, why over this? But no wisdom was bestowed on me. Instead I wept through all the pain that envelopes people in the wake of losing a spouse.

There were no words of peace that comforted and no warm embraces that chased the shadows away. There was simply sitting with the tragedy that continues to exist in my life. 

Its been 8 months since I walked down that road to confirm my husband's death. 8 months...such a long time, and yet, no time at all. I didn't feel strong this week. I felt alone. I felt so very tired. I felt afraid.

And I thought "where do I go from here?".

This is the ugly side of grief. The side that sneaks up on you. It tends to isolate you and enables a longing in you that the world cannot satisfy. 

It is times like these that make hiding away so tempting. And what a cruel irony that is, because I have worked so incredibly hard to not hide away. I have forced my heart to share when it was scary. I have opened my mouth to speak when I wanted to hide in silence. I have made my feet move when I wanted to stay locked away. I have clung to the Holy Spirit in each of these moments and have seen the power of the almighty as He's led me through each step.

So, why does grief feel so much like abandonment?

Why does loss feel so much like loneliness?

Why healing have to feel so much like fear?

I miss John. 

I miss him in the snowfalls. 

I miss him in the beauty and fears of becoming a parent again.

I miss him when I'm sick and broken down.

I miss him every Sunday morning at church.

I miss his laugh and his smile and his big red beard, as they continue to fade from the world we made together.

I miss him in every decision I must make alone.

I miss him in my empty bed every night. 

I miss him by his coffee setup each morning.

John is missing from me. 

There is no moment or day where that is not obvious in every way. I will always miss John. He will always be missing. 

I am accepting that missing him will always sometimes be ugly...because he was so very good.

I struggle with they ugly parts because I want to be brave and strong and courageous, but I am not always those things. I want to proceed in confidence and cast aside all my doubts, but I am rarely able to do that completely. 

So maybe the simple reason I fell apart this week was that the Lord was been reminding my heart that this is ok.

It is ok to weep and to miss John, because he will always be worth missing.

It is ok that I am moving forward and creating a life without him, because I have been ordained to live life in his absence.

It is ok that my healing brings about fear, because my heart can still move forward in spite of that.

It is ok if I make mistakes, because Jesus takes the bad and the ugly, and He uses it for good. 

And, I guess, after such broken week, I can either choose to hide that away, or share it.

So, welcome to the ugly...I think it just might end up being beautiful too.