A Reminder

Hey there, friends. I wanted to briefly remind you of a couple things in regard to this series of posts. First of all, please remember that I’m not posting these confessions to get a secret message sent to any offending party or even to give myself an avenue to vent. The sole purpose in sharing these things with all 15 of you :) is so that we (you and I, both) may be better equipped to help those who are hurting so deeply that they can’t begin to actually tell you what they need or how to best minister to them. Those of you that know me well, could testify that, if it were only concerning Eva, these confessions would never have seen the light of day. I try to tell myself to suck it up even more than I tell my children to do the same. Whoa. That’s a horse pill to swallow there. But I’ve felt compelled to press on even when I’d rather shut up.

So…I’m throwing myself under the bus here with these 10 confessions (I know…I know…you’re thinking, “Get this over with already!!! Sorry…2 more after today!) because I realized after losing Zoe that I had NO CLUE how cavernous this grief, and how arduous the process of scraping my way back to the surface, could be.

As I’ve shared before, this is an ugly process. I would encourage you to be the most patient with that truth. C’mon peeps…say it with me…

U-G-L-Y…you ain’t got no alibi…it’s ugly!

Hey hey…it’s ugly! Oh yea!

I may or may not have just plummeted off the deep end…even by cheerleader standards. Actually…mostly by cheerleader standards. We have a code, ya know.

Ok…focus. I was saying I’d encourage you to be patient with the dark days of the grieving process. If you think the grieving person/s should be rounding the corner and moving past their heartache, you’re missing this exact point. It takes as much time as any specific person needs for them to feel the ability to function with a chunk of their heart missing.

While straining for anyone, this is especially difficult for someone with type A personality like yours truly. It makes people uncomfortable for me to be down, less than exuberant even…to not be cracking jokes…talking loud…laughing even louder. Honestly, there have been plenty of moments…days, even…when there has still been a plethora of chaotic Eva-nonsense to make the concerned peeps relax. But there are also many days when the heaviness is great, and I’m in need of a supernatural lifting of my head. How sad would it be for me to stay isolated during those times, for fear of making others feel uncomfortable around my grief?

Let me put it this way. If the heavy heart of the grieving parent (or the like) makes you feel sad and uncomfortable, just imagine how much worse it would be for the one who’s in the thick of it. We don't like it anymore than you do.

Be patient, my friends. Be patient. Most of all, be compassionate.

Secondly, please remember that I’ve processed through a great portion of these issues before I ever share them with you all. This is not to say that I’ve checked them off my list and moved on, but rather that the Comforter has been hard at work in certain areas long before they reach your eyes and ears. The hard evidence of this would be where we stand in our series. I’m about to share confession #8 with you. I’ve already told you there are 10. Like I said, I haven’t been throwing these out to you right when they come to mind. I can honestly tell you that all 10 of these issues hit me almost one on top of the other within the first couple of weeks after Zoe’s death. But we’ve been waiting, you and I, to talk openly about them until some measure of grace has already been experienced.

We continue to be amazed by a mighty God and His loving people as we experience His great grace and faithful compassion in the midst of our heartache. Thank you for being with us on this journey.