I am willing to bet that some of you have often wondered just how I am really doing with my grief. I seem to be joyful with a new baby and, for the most part, I am. I am reminded every moment that I spend with my Luke of the ultimate redemption we will all experience as believers. He is a sweet little reminder of that.
But, I still grieve. Deeply.
I read a while back that losing a child is like an amputation. There is a part of me that will never be replaced. That I will never get back…at least on this side of Eternity.
My grief seems to wander a little and feel further away at times. Other times, it hits me like an avalanche out of nowhere…especially at those times that I thought I had held it at bay. But, in complete honesty, I am realizing more and more that my grief is closer than I think. It’s just easy to camouflage.
It doesn’t take much when it does come around to force me into a puddle on the ground rocking my baby girl’s picture and softly stroking the glass frame that holds her. I am fully aware that my heart is deeply wounded.
More often that I’d like to admit, the enemy rips into me and sets the anger, jealousy and hate into motion. He gets me at my weakest. He uses calculating tactics. He preys on knowing that I am reserved with my emotions. He wants to see the anger mount. And the jealousy consume me. And the hatred destroy all that has been built.
But friends, I can’t let that happen…even when I want to give up and completely give in. In light of all that is wrong and unfair, I can’t let the enemy win.
This war has already been won.
Because HE came.
Because HE was crucified.
Because HE conquered.
And although I will have grief, I have a GOD who is bigger than it.
And that is all I need to know to get through…