My coffee in my cracked thermal coffee cup (it’s my cup of comfort) is in hand, pups have been out and tucked back in, I’m ready for the day. Plantetshakers is playing in the background, next on the agenda: time with “Dad.”
Today He says He didn’t save just me from death, but to live life. Ouch.
I am squirming. I read it again. He repeats it, just in case I missed it the first time. He emphasizes that often people get caught up in the “black and white” of salvation, the “heaven or hell” aspect. They forget the relationship isn’t just for the end result of mansions and streets of gold. That’s an insurance policy, not a relationship.
You know I’ve been struggling like the dickens to figure out why I have been left here. The finish line looks better and better everyday. The cement blocks attached to my feet seem to get heavier by the day, my steps are slower and labored, ever since Archie’s birthday. I don’t get it.
Taylor has been busier, which is great, and life is settling into routine. The quiet…it’s always so quiet. It would be great if I could just concentrate on what my Heavenly Dad spoke to me about either that morning or through out the day, but it doesn’t work that way.
In the stillness, the memories visit. They sit for a while like a guest you might be excited to see, but then they linger and start going through closets of things tucked away: the bucket lists that will never come to completion, the last day of Archie’s life/finding him, memories of Taylor with her Dad, the words that should not have been spoken but are packed in a red box, with gold caution tape, labeled “pain.” I keep that box as a reminder. I want to make sure those situations are never duplicated. One thought flows into another until it’s a movie in my head I cannot shut off. I feel like this is the same merry-go-round I’ve been on for six and a half months.
That’s when the Grief Share comes in and why they call it work :p. I have to think about those things: the bucket list (what part of that do I still want to do by myself and what do I want to add or take off–maybe items were only meant for Arch and I together, and in what time frame?) I do feel like there is more of an urgency since he left w/out warning. The last day of Archie’s life: the more I force myself to think about it (not too long at one time) the less I cry about it–but I still cry. Memories of Taylor and her dad: that one is one of my toughest as I cannot replace the one that was most like her, and that nasty box of words…I ask Taylor for accountability and am holding her to “keeping me inline.”
Clinging to the pain and using it as an excuse will never fulfill the desires of my heart, to find joy again. I do need to remember that I was left here for a reason, to live. So were you. Are you?
Are you living forward, taking even one step forward each day, trying to make tonight or tomorrow a tiny bit better than today? One week later I could be 7 bits closer to joy than I was seven day previously. That’s a step, right?
Am I living in the past, letting it dictate my future? If I am not happy/joyful now, I feel like I never would or should be again. I don’t know as I have few answers. All I have is the direction, “part two,” from his guide book.
Psalms 46:10 “He says, “Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.”
As I journey along part 2, I hope and pray that this time there will joy, sooner than later, in my mornings.
Until Tuesday: Happy Labor Day Weekend!