When Dr. Pepper and Jif aren't enough...
It's a good thing I'm not sitting in front of a doctor right now answering questions...
"Do you randomly burst into tears?" Yep.
"Do you struggle to get out of bed?" You betcha.
"Do you know what day it is?" No clue.
"Is it difficult to eat with your whole family...minus one?" Very.
"Do you blame yourself for things that were clearly out of your control?" Yes, yes, and oh my, yes.
I'm not exaggerating when I say they'd bring the white coat and pills and haul me away.
The ache runs deep, and I wonder if there will ever come a day that I don't have a hard time swallowing. The very definition of "depressed" is what I see every time I look in the mirror.
Yet I'm still trusting in, and depending on, a gracious and compassionate Father that is sovereign in all things. That's really the crux of the issue. How do people cope with such tragedy without this Rock to lean on? I want to sorrow well...to reflect His grace to those around me...but it's seems impossible to do so when I can't get past my own pain.
Monday was, without question, the most difficult day of my life. We were surrounded by innumerable family and friends, which initially made it easier to function. We were able to share some private time with Zoe before the casket was closed and were also incredibly blessed to have an unexpected caravan of people from Indiana come to celebrate Zoe's life with us. Some had never even met Zoe but loved her all the same. This created the largest "family" procession in the history of funerals. It was awesome.
Many good friends made the service especially meaningful to us, and we were able to worship and remember together in the midst of great sorrow. The songs, prayers, words, and pictures were sweet nectar to a broken spirit. To sing the words, "There's a peace I've come to know...though my heart and flesh may fail. There's an anchor for my soul. I can say, 'It is well'..." with an auditorium full of heart broken people was a tremendous statement of God's powerful presence smack in the middle of extreme tragedy.
Perhaps the most poignant moment of the service was watching the video of Zoe singing Jesus Loves Me. She knew it. Our little princess absolutely knew that the God of the universe loved her. This truth makes me swell with gratitude and amazement. I just know that she went straight to the lap of my sweet Savior and sang this right to His face while He just smiled into her beautiful face. I bet He gives the best eskimo kisses and tells the juiciest secrets. This makes even the most crushed spirit fill with joy as I can hear her giggling all the way to Iowa!
The same large, yet intimate, troupe traveled the few blocks to the cemetery where we laid her fraile body to rest. My dad said some comforting words as I remember thinking, "I'm so glad I know she's not in this expensive box we are lowering into the ground...I'm not sure another breath could escape my lungs if that were true."
People gathered together for some food and fellowship at the church as we processed the next phase of our lives...without Zoe. Believe it or not, we actually shared quite a few laughs with family as we sat around the table...mostly teasing my dad about the endless supply of boat carcasses that dotted our lawn for the majority of my childhood. Laughter does a heart good, my friends.
The one thing we were certain about going into the services on Monday was that we did not, under any circumstances, want a receiving line. Yea...Chris somehow escaped but as I stood to hug a friend goodbye, a line the length of the Great Wall formed in the blink of an eye...and there I was...hugging. My favorite. :) Now if you were a line-former that day, please don't feel badly...it really was so sweet and precious that people wanted to share in our grief with us and offer prayers on our behalf. I promise. I just had to chuckle as I looked up at the line and thought, "I'm gonna kill Chris for ditching me!" HAHAHA! It was even funnier when Jason said he appreciated me pushing him out of his comfort zone as he led our worship without a guitar in hand, and I replied, "Yea, well...I just hugged a whole line of people without throwing up! So...we're even!" :)
It was a couple hours before I got the announcement that Chris was "done"...:)...not kidding...honestly gotta give him props for hanging tough as long as he did. I asked for a minute alone before we left...to breathe...to think...to pray.
I quickly found myself standing in the exact spot where Zoe's casket had laid just a few hours before. I'm not really sure how I got there, but there I was...looking up at the cross. I poured my broken heart out to God, knowing He'd been waiting for this moment. Through a waterfall of tears and cracking voice, I sang to my Rock...over and over...
Our God is greater
Our God is stronger
God, You are higher than any other
Our God is Healer...awesome in power
Our God...our God
And if our God is for us
Then who could ever stop us
And if our God is with us
Then what could stand against
Praying I will allow that same strength and power to raise me up in the days ahead.
"Do you randomly burst into tears?" Yep.
"Do you struggle to get out of bed?" You betcha.
"Do you know what day it is?" No clue.
"Is it difficult to eat with your whole family...minus one?" Very.
"Do you blame yourself for things that were clearly out of your control?" Yes, yes, and oh my, yes.
I'm not exaggerating when I say they'd bring the white coat and pills and haul me away.
The ache runs deep, and I wonder if there will ever come a day that I don't have a hard time swallowing. The very definition of "depressed" is what I see every time I look in the mirror.
Yet I'm still trusting in, and depending on, a gracious and compassionate Father that is sovereign in all things. That's really the crux of the issue. How do people cope with such tragedy without this Rock to lean on? I want to sorrow well...to reflect His grace to those around me...but it's seems impossible to do so when I can't get past my own pain.
Monday was, without question, the most difficult day of my life. We were surrounded by innumerable family and friends, which initially made it easier to function. We were able to share some private time with Zoe before the casket was closed and were also incredibly blessed to have an unexpected caravan of people from Indiana come to celebrate Zoe's life with us. Some had never even met Zoe but loved her all the same. This created the largest "family" procession in the history of funerals. It was awesome.
Many good friends made the service especially meaningful to us, and we were able to worship and remember together in the midst of great sorrow. The songs, prayers, words, and pictures were sweet nectar to a broken spirit. To sing the words, "There's a peace I've come to know...though my heart and flesh may fail. There's an anchor for my soul. I can say, 'It is well'..." with an auditorium full of heart broken people was a tremendous statement of God's powerful presence smack in the middle of extreme tragedy.
Perhaps the most poignant moment of the service was watching the video of Zoe singing Jesus Loves Me. She knew it. Our little princess absolutely knew that the God of the universe loved her. This truth makes me swell with gratitude and amazement. I just know that she went straight to the lap of my sweet Savior and sang this right to His face while He just smiled into her beautiful face. I bet He gives the best eskimo kisses and tells the juiciest secrets. This makes even the most crushed spirit fill with joy as I can hear her giggling all the way to Iowa!
The same large, yet intimate, troupe traveled the few blocks to the cemetery where we laid her fraile body to rest. My dad said some comforting words as I remember thinking, "I'm so glad I know she's not in this expensive box we are lowering into the ground...I'm not sure another breath could escape my lungs if that were true."
People gathered together for some food and fellowship at the church as we processed the next phase of our lives...without Zoe. Believe it or not, we actually shared quite a few laughs with family as we sat around the table...mostly teasing my dad about the endless supply of boat carcasses that dotted our lawn for the majority of my childhood. Laughter does a heart good, my friends.
The one thing we were certain about going into the services on Monday was that we did not, under any circumstances, want a receiving line. Yea...Chris somehow escaped but as I stood to hug a friend goodbye, a line the length of the Great Wall formed in the blink of an eye...and there I was...hugging. My favorite. :) Now if you were a line-former that day, please don't feel badly...it really was so sweet and precious that people wanted to share in our grief with us and offer prayers on our behalf. I promise. I just had to chuckle as I looked up at the line and thought, "I'm gonna kill Chris for ditching me!" HAHAHA! It was even funnier when Jason said he appreciated me pushing him out of his comfort zone as he led our worship without a guitar in hand, and I replied, "Yea, well...I just hugged a whole line of people without throwing up! So...we're even!" :)
It was a couple hours before I got the announcement that Chris was "done"...:)...not kidding...honestly gotta give him props for hanging tough as long as he did. I asked for a minute alone before we left...to breathe...to think...to pray.
I quickly found myself standing in the exact spot where Zoe's casket had laid just a few hours before. I'm not really sure how I got there, but there I was...looking up at the cross. I poured my broken heart out to God, knowing He'd been waiting for this moment. Through a waterfall of tears and cracking voice, I sang to my Rock...over and over...
Our God is greater
Our God is stronger
God, You are higher than any other
Our God is Healer...awesome in power
Our God...our God
And if our God is for us
Then who could ever stop us
And if our God is with us
Then what could stand against
Praying I will allow that same strength and power to raise me up in the days ahead.
