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Let's Question My Choices



Every morning I make myself a cup of coffee (why yes, I do put whipped cream on it #TreatYoSelf), gather my things, sit down at my kitchen table, and assess myself. 

How am I doing? Am I processing my emotions? Is today going to be a hard day? Do I need to journal? Do I need to blog? Do I need to read? Should I text someone for extra prayer? If today is lacking, is there something I can do to change that?  

Grief is a constant ebb and flow. What I need or want is consistently shifting and changing. I can't expect peace from yesterday to translate into peace for today. 

So I assess, and adjust, and pray for the patience to continue both of those things because they seem to become more complicated as time goes on. 

Grief holds no easy answers, as much as we might wish it too. 

I find myself constantly assessing John's possessions and presence in my home. Am I ready for this picture to come down? Which ones do I want to stay up for the long-term? Am I ready for this item to be packed up? What about that item? Who do I plan on giving this too? Who will really treasure that memory?

Are there even any right answers? Probably not, but I search for them anyway.

I want to honor John's life and memory in my home. I want to honor our families' and friends' love for him and memories of him. I don't want anyone to think I'm moving too soon or too quickly for their hearts. Because I refuse to believe my heart is the only one that matters, nor does it matter the most.

The entirety of the Bible is filled with the idea that others matter just as much as ourselves, if not more. I loath the idea that I should only do what is best for me and let the world take care of itself. I was designed to care for much more than myself, I certainly won't allow that to fall by the wayside now. 

All that being said, in the end, I am really only capable of doing the best I can...and my best will simply never be good enough. I am a finite human, broken and flawed. I cannot see all aspects of the situation nor perceive everyone's thoughts or feelings. I will make mistakes. I will, inadvertently, hurt people's feelings. I definitely will not do everything the right way.

It is a heavy load to bear a loved one's legacy. I am forever grateful that I was the one John chose to love and share his life with. And I am truly honored that I am the one who gets to choose how John's legacy continues. But it is hard, nonetheless. 

If you find yourself questioning my decisions, wondering about the motivation behind this choice or that decision. I encourage you to start a kind and respectful conversation about it with me. I have so many thoughts and processes that go into my choices, and I would be happy to share them with you. I will be the first person to admit that I might not be doing things the right way. I might also, in the end, simply disagree with you. But I will always try my hardest to engage openly and honestly with you. 

I firmly believe that sitting in doubt and confusion will only lead to more doubt and confusion. There is no sin in questioning and wondering. But do not keep doubt or hurt hidden away in the recesses of your heart. Wounds kept in the dark tend to fester instead of heal.

Whether you choose to reach out or not, know that I weigh my wishes against what John's wishes would have been and against what our families' and friends' wishes might be...

And I just do the best I can.




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