Saturday, March 03, 2012

Choosing light in dark places

Photo pinned from pleasantplacess.blogspot.com
It has been two months since my mom passed away. Her death was so unexpected and sudden, I think I was in shock for a long time after her hospital stay and into the funeral planning. I have actually been able to see again. Something feels different. I'm trying to find out what it is so I can explain it better, and comprehend it and hang onto it...but I don't know what that is.

I have been able to laugh with my kids and make a couple of jokes. I am able to see (a little) of how others are doing. There is much pain and grief in my community of friends, and I have been able to stop, listen, and pray for them. I want so much to be myself again. I want to be happy, and have physical energy to make dinner or do dishes. I'm not rushing into anything. My house is still a mess, and I'm not being a good parent. I am giving into lots of things, and discipline is falling by the wayside with stuff, just "stuff."


But, something that has become a discipline, is something that came upon me rather suddenly and unexpectedly. I had a major emotional crash on Valentine's Day. The next week was my birthday. If there were strong pieces of my year when I missed my mom...one would expect these would certainly be the days. And, because I can only make it one day at a time and forward thinking was pretty well put on the back burner for a while...I had totally forgot that Lent was approaching.


We attend a nondenominational Christian church that doesn't follow any traditional liturgical calendar. But, I believe significant seasons are important in the church. I mean, thank goodness it's Lent and not Advent. I'm glad people are putting on ashes on Ash Wednesday and sacrificing and entering into suffering with one another. It's becoming much more congruent with where my spirit is these days. I feel as if the whole Christian world is feeling my pain as well. Perhaps that's what I needed to be reminded of to snap out of my darkness.

Mardi Gras and Ash Wednesday completely crept up on me almost unnoticed. But, I went to bed that Tuesday with a new mission. I gave up sugar 10 days ago. No white processed flour, no white rice, no potatoes, and no sugar! No honey, no agave, nothing. No fruit juice, either. Just fresh fruit, veggies, proteins and whole grains. It's one of the craziest things I've ever done, but maybe that was part of the kick-start I needed. I'm able to stop and read labels and think more seriously about food before it goes into my body. I'm not doing it for weight loss, although that's going to be an automatic benefit. I gave it up for Lent, a sacrifice to remind me of the desert place that Jesus was in before his crucifixion. I can journey through that desert place myself, and be grateful for His death and resurrection. That congruence of spirit has reminded me once again that I am loved deeply and dearly, and that I don't have to be afraid or fear that I am unlovable, because each of us were uniquely created by an amazing Father who loves us and knows us, and understands us. There is discipline in this fasting that God is teaching me more tangibly than I could have thought possible.

I wonder if the hormonal changes I've been dealing with have also been a factor in my moods. (But, I'm not discounting the grief. That's real.)

Someone I know was talking about a new part of his spiritual journey, and how the past couple of years after his mom's death he wished he would have done his grief differently. I understood so much of what he was saying...that others have no idea what you're going through, and what you feel, and how you change. But, loving someone in grief has got to one of the hardest things for any human to do. He changed a lot when his mom died. He felt anxiety. An extrovert who loved large groups of people suddenly was unable to be in a crowd without getting upset and feeling trapped. He said it was hard to feel sad and bring others down when everyone else was happy. He couldn't understand in his spirit how it was possible that others could be so happy, when he was so miserable. He said he is now ready to take a new leap, a new part of his journey to cut off the old misery and take a step of faith to follow Christ in a new way. He's getting married this summer to a wonderful young woman. I have really enjoyed getting to know them both, and this season for both of them has been a season that has shaped them and helped them grow.

One thing he said to me was that he wished he would have talked about memories of his mom more. Talking helps. He wished he would have asked for more help along the way, if even to say he didn't know what to ask for. So I've started to talk about my mom more and more. To mention the things she gave us, or things we used to do together, and how we used to be together. The memories are good, and we are so blessed by the amazing relationship that we had. I just miss her so much. It's like a part of me has died along with her.

I'm now trying to see a place where a part of her continues to live in me.


1 comment:

Deb Raab said...

She does continue to live in you. She's part of you. You will find that place and when you do; make room for it, let it grow. This is good stuff, Julia. Hang in there.