What does grief look like four years later? I’m not sure if people outside of the “loss club” think about this question or not, but I felt it was the perfect topic for today. I bet some people believe that grief gets lighter as time goes on. After all, time heals all wounds right?
One of the things my nurse said to Eric and I shortly after Harper was born was, “People are going to say a lot of really dumb things.” In the moment I couldn’t wrap my mind around what she meant. I was overcome with grief and my mind was trying to process the fact that I had just given birth to a lifeless baby girl. But as time went by, her words echoed back in my mind and I realized what she was trying to warn us of.
It didn’t take long for us to experience all kinds of, well, let’s just say “interesting” comments. Some were hurtful. Some were confusing. Some were just stupid. And some were cliches that are often used when people just don’t know what to say.
I wanted to talk today about one that I’ve probably heard more than all the others. Chances are, if I’ve told you my story, you have probably mumbled this phrase to me.
Two years. It has been two years since we first saw your face. That beautiful face. Two years ago our lives were turned upside down and we entered our lowest valley and our wish to raise you here on Earth did not come true.
To all of you raising two year olds out there- hello. You may or may not know me, but I deeply desire to know what your life is like right now. As you read that, perhaps you exhaled, rolled your eyes, or laughed thinking I couldn’t possibly be serious. You may feel that life with your two year old is nothing glamorous or anything that anyone would care to know about… but you’re wrong.
I think there is a common misconception about the difficulty of living life and the responsibility of being christian or religious. Somehow if you claim to love God, there is a pressure to be able to “hold it all together.” As if leaning on Him can’t look messy.
I want to share with you today that it can.
Trusting God in the midst of your circumstances is a complexly intricate mixture of emotions. It is not pretty. It is not easy. It doesn’t fit neatly in the church pew each Sunday. Faith, based not on the details of this life, but on the divine attributes of God, is grueling.
I am a man. I don’t cry unless my favorite team loses the championship… This is the common misconception about men. Men should just rub some dirt on it and grin and bear the pain.
Well, I have found that since we lost Harper, I am not the stereotypical male. Things just get to me. It’s a little bit embarrassing to talk about, but should it be? There are a number of things that trigger my tears and that list is a much longer list than it was before we lost Harper…
I walk past Harper’s closed bedroom door on my way out to the garage. I am carrying my work bag and lunch. It has been a typical morning… I had my quiet time. I read my Bible and said my prayers for my day, my family, and my friends. I went for a run. I ran 3 miles and enjoyed being the only person on the road at 5 AM. I listened to my worship music. I took my shower and got dressed for work. A normal day…until now.
