Sometimes I wish that I could go back to the days of being naive and innocent. I’m sure I was, once. Back before I knew the pain of loss.
This time of year brings nostalgia with it, and when you have lost someone or something significant, the holidays can be bittersweet, if not downright hurtful.
I find myself facing some areas of grief I hadn’t realized existed inside me, and I want to push them away; rationalize them, and talk myself down. But I don’t think that’s necessarily the way to go.
When we need to move forward in life, we often have to relinquish the parts that may be holding us back, no matter how hard it is to face them. And in order to face them, we must acknowledge them. Which also means we must let ourselves feel the emotions that accompany them.
I hate that.
I hate hurting.
I hate going there. I’d much rather ignore it and busy myself with something more useful.
But it is useful. I don’t have to stay there and wallow in it, or let it consume me forever. I don’t have to give it that power.
I do need to bring it into the light, so my God can heal it. Because that’s what He does.
He heals our pain.
So, I allow myself to feel the disappointments, the aching loneliness, the sense of loss, and of missing out. While I grieve the absence of my Dad, the heaviness of one less child around the table, and of not having someone to do life with, I can know that the God who sings and dances over me with adoration and calls me His Beloved (not because I’m so great, but because HE is), catches those tears and slowly transforms them into something glistening and beautiful.
HE will give me joy again, He promised.
I will dance and I will see the beauty growing out of the ashes. I already am as I gaze at my three daughters and listen to their laughter.
I can cry for all I have lost. Its ok. I don’t have to stay here, I just have to allow the process so I can move forward.
It is well with my soul.