A Time to Grieve

I just stood up from my kitchen table with coffee in hand and rolled to my bed where my lap top sits. I've been struggling to find my "Inner Susan" for days and something clicked; something said, "Just do it."

So I'll write. About grief... the monkey that has chased my tail since my first husband died almost seventeen years ago now. Because I fell apart last Saturday, wept to exhaustion, and have struggled to feel normal ever since.

My surgery recovery is going well. The pain controlled without narcotics. So I've even dressed several times and worn earrings and I'm not even three weeks post op.

But limitations abound. And while a few family issues have also burdened my mother's heart, I grieve the loss of normal living.

Whatever that is.

I often write about what gives me hope and joy. What keeps my faith alive. But today I remember grief. The solemn heaviness that's very much a part of living.

October used to spawn difficult memories since my first spouse died on November 3rd, 1996. The month, punctuated by birthdays and his decline, stirred emotion for years. As changing colors gave way to bare trees, I relived his last days with clarity. And grieved.

Perhaps I still need a good October cry even though the memories don't dwell in me with the same intensity. Or maybe three surgeries in ten months warrant a weepy afternoon. Or maybe living in the fullness of joy demands a sacred journey through the reality of loss.

I don't know why I've struggled lately. But I know even Jesus wept. One afternoon. Right before he raised his friend from the dead.

So I will own the sadness yet seek joy... because God is working every day, every minute, every second, making Beautiful Things out of us.