One day...

I've been feeling bad lately about not blogging- knowing that many of you are wondering how I am doing (thank you). I have to tell you that I haven't had much of a chance to process how I am doing at the moment. My parents were here for almost 3 weeks, we had 4 days to clean and prepare for my in-laws visit, and now we are busy hanging out with them. Both visits have been wonderful and such a blessed time to see our families and do everything and nothing with them. Neither set have much interest in travelling or filling up the time with touristy things so we spend the days running errands, playing play-doh, cleaning, cooking, eating, and just "being". It's nice and I'm happy to have this large chunk of time filled with something so easy and important as spending quality time with your family is. So, all that to say, I haven't really focused much on my feelings or where I stand in the grieving process. I know that there are still many sad days and moments. I know I still miss Zion so, so much, think about him constantly, imagine what it might have been like had he been here at this time, remember the few and precious days we had with him and what it felt like to touch him, wonder what the future will be like without him and what it might turn out like as we think about having more kids down the road, and generally feel like my life will never be the same. That I know. Without needing to think about it too hard, I also know that God is working in my heart to help me come to a better place about it all. I don't understand it any better than I did, I still don't think whatever I might learn is worth it, but I am starting to really believe that one day it will be OK. And one day I will see and experience and proclaim that good has come from it. And one day my faith will be so much deeper than it could have been if it hadn't happened. One day things will feel normal again. I suppose I believe this now because God has allowed me to experience tiny glimpses of it. Glimpses of hope and joy that I haven't experienced until recently. I know the journey continues to be long and as I am quite accustomed to now, the path might be smooth and relatively straight for a bit and then it suddenly and unexpectedly takes a sharp turn and becomes dark and full of pot holes. But, I can walk in the dark and hope for the light, believing it will come.

Quiet

It's so very quiet today. My parents went to the airport early this morning to return home. It was a wonderful visit and I already miss their presence in the house. Natty misses them too, although I can tell she doesn't exactly know how to express it. The morning was busy cleaning up and almost finishing my second sewing project (much harder than I expected) then going to the packed pool to be totally and completely annoyed by the kids there. There's absolutely no managing of spaces for those of us who would like to swim laps and are paying good money every month to do so. Grrrr... I was reminded as I drove home in a cloud of aggravation of the sermon Scotty preached on Sunday. He used a guy holding a cup of water as an illustration. The cup is our heart and the water is what we fill it up with. Scotty would bump his arm and the water would spill out. He explained that life is going to give us bumps of all kinds and what is stored up in our heart is going to spill out, either blessing those around us with clean water, or getting everything all dirty and yucky with the sewer water that comes out when we haven't spent enough time in the Word and prayer. I was seeing a lot of stinky water coming out today. Anyway...it's quiet now. Scotty is running errands and Natty is napping. I am thinking of Zion. I'm tired of being sad and yet, I know it is necessary. I want to move forward in life, but I'm not sure exactly where I need to go next. I should be involved in community again but I'm pretty sure people aren't too sure how to interact with me, nor I with them. I guess I'm just trying to figure out how to do life now. How do I allow myself to be sad while still spurring myself on to have relationships and get out of the house so I'm not swallowed up by the sadness? How do I express my emotions and share my thoughts without making people uncomfortable? When is it better to just not bring it up? Grief leaves you in this strange, separate state. I was reading lately how a person who is grieving will always do it differently than someone else because we are all unique. You can build community around you to go through the grief with you by sharing your feelings and letting people hurt with you. But, ultimately, you will always do it alone because no one will understand the pain like you do or know exactly what it is like. It's a lonely road. Even Scotty has no idea what I'm going through. Too easily I forget that God knows. He not only knows what it's like to lose a son, He knows me intimately and personally. I need to work on trusting that, even when I'm not sure what to do with it. I need to really believe that God knows what I need and will give that to me.

Music

We got home from a short trip to Lake Titicaca this afternoon. Leaving yesterday mid-morning, we were excited to introduce our parents to this beautiful, enormous lake that has always been one of our favorite places to go for short little trips outside the city. We were praying for good weather, as it is rainy season now, and it's cold and not so pretty at the lake when it's raining. We had a mix of both and a nice time of relaxing, throwing rocks in the lake (Natty's favorite pastime) and Scotty and I did a tough hike to the top of a nearby hill. We had yummy, fresh trout and generally enjoyed the beauty of the Andes of Bolivia.

Tonight we're all pooped and I decided to take some time to myself to read and listen to a few of the new CD's that dear friends sent me for Christmas. One is JJ Heller's "When I'm With You". I noticed when I first got it, as I was reading the lyrics before actually hearing the music, that there was a song she had written for a little girl baby who had died shortly after birth. I found the blog about Olivianna and have related much to the families struggles and grief in the time after they lost their precious daughter. Tonight I listened to the song and found it could have been written for my Zion, just changing the name and the length of time spent on earth. It was so very hard to hear but so good, too. When life gets busy, the freshness and reality of my son can fade a little, even though the emptiness remains. Sometimes I need that new reminder of how real he was/is to match up with the hurt that remains in my heart for things to feel right- somehow. Appropriately, the next song on the CD is called "No Fight Left". The lyrics perfectly describe how I often feel:

"It's hard to tell if my eyes are open

when all I see is dark.

And it's easy, it's easy to lose my step...

There is no fight left on the inside

But maybe that's where I should be

I've given up trying

I'm giving it all to you

And I used to dream of a life so lovely

there'd be no room for tears

Now letting go, yeah,

letting go is the hardest part..."

Letting go is the hardest part. Isn't that right? I don't ever want to let go of Zion. Sometimes I fear that his memory is being lost or that by being more busy than sad, I am erasing his valuable existence... I know that God does not ask me to give up the memory of or love for my son, but my desire to control how it all turns out. My thoughts are a bit of a jumble tonight...I just miss Zion.

Wrestling and Learning

Loss strips you. It takes away the superficial pillars that you leaned on for happiness. It makes you question everything you always thought you believed but when tested by fire, you realize how shallow that belief was because it was never tried. It makes you realize that maybe your hope was not where you thought it was but was mostly based on your situation, the blessings God had given you, or the people around you that made you content. It's like God removes the false front of your life that you always thought was real and shows you the disaster that was behind and then asks you if you still trust Him. And sometimes the front is your true reality, it's the only thing you've experienced, it's valid. But, maybe it's not meant to last. Maybe you need Someone to show you that your faith isn't as deep as you thought or give you the opportunity to make it more firm and lasting. Ever since Zion died, I've been wrestling with questions about who God is and how He interacts with His children. I'm asking Him and myself questions that I thought I had answered. I believe He is in control and totally sovereign and ordains all events- so how does that truth also blend with the truth that He is good and loving? Although I know it is a mystery we won't ever fully understand on this side of eternity, I know these things go hand in hand without contradicting each other. But, I don't always feel that way. There's a song we keep singing at church lately that I can only sing half off. The beginning talks about spending one moment with God and how it doesn't matter what happens or what we have to wait for if we can just spend a moment with Him. I don't agree. It DOES matter what I go through- it does matter what I have to wait for. If someone had asked the writer of that song, "would you be willing to sacrifice your son for one moment with the Lord?" I'm pretty sure he would not answer, "it doesn't matter- as long as I get my one moment." So, I have a hard time with that and I ask myself, "is that wrong?" Is it wrong to not want to give up my loved ones? Does God ask us to give up our loved ones to spend a moment with Him? Thankfully, He doesn't always. He freely gives of Himself whether we sacrifice or not. It is not a result of what we do, but of His grace. However, I know that He has asked a great thing of us in giving Zion. I was wondering as I tried to sleep last night how taking Zion was part of a loving plan. I believe God loves me, but I am desperately trying to understand that love in the death of my son. It dawned on me that maybe God is using my child to try to teach true happiness- which is a loving thing. As long as my happiness is based on my relationships, the health of those I love, how easy life is- I will be disappointed. If I begin to realize that God's glory is my ultimate good and joy (Man's chief end is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever- Westminster Shorter Catechism), than that is a good and loving lesson to teach me. And, I know that the Lord has formed every one of us and numbered our days. He numbered Zion's days to 18 and when he reached that number, his purpose was complete. He was used for a noble purpose- for many that I might never know. But, I believe loving me by showing me that my happiness might have been put in the wrong place, was one. I don't want to miss the purpose God had in taking my son. To know that He died, but not allow myself to ever see any good in the situation, would be accepting that Zion died in vain. This would be a truly tragic reality. However, my hope is that God will continue to redeem the short life of Zion by using Him for His great and wonderful purposes- in my life and in the lives of others.