Posts tagged fear
Beauty From Ashes

Six months. Today, we celebrate six months of life. It’s your little brother’s half birthday. As I type this, he’s cuddled close to me, sucking on his pacifier, while his softie is nestled into his neck and lullabies lull him to sleep.  It’s beautiful. But it stings. It’s bittersweet...  I’m overcome with love for him and the joy he brings me to the point that I’m overwhelmed and brought to tears.  His breaths fall heavily on my arm, while you remained so still.  His little life, in my arms, because your life slipped through my hands.  Death literally passed through me, so a new life could be planted. Could grow. Could resurrect from the darkness and bring to fruition a redemption I had not thought possible.  There’s so much guilt.  But there’s so much love.  And grief, it still remains.

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Thoughts

There’s a deep ache in me that permeates every fiber of my being. A longing. A stillness. A quiet. It’s incomplete and completely painful. It swallows me whole and consumes my existence. It’s presses hard and captures me. I’m suffocating.

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Learning to Surrender

Last night while nursing him, he gave a slight resemblance to you, and I remembered staring down at your face in the hospital room in such disbelief.  No matter how much I willed you to breathe or to move, no matter how much I begged God to change the outcome, I couldn’t change a thing.  I was completely powerless.

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Erupting

My anger hasn’t been lying dormant by any means, but recently it has been making its way to the surface in bouts of explosions and eruptions.  And today is no different.  Can I make excuses for myself?

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Divided

That night, at mass, the message of surrender.  Giving it all to God.  Living with open hands.  Wanting God more than anything.  The story of Abraham, willing to sacrifice his son for love of God...I felt ashamed.  Because in the midst of all of this, if I had a choice, if I could go back in time, if I could write this story’s ending...I wouldn’t choose loss.  I wouldn’t choose your death.  I wouldn’t choose sacrifice, or this cross, or this grief.  I would choose to be your Mom this side of heaven.  The words of our pastor carved into me, and I thought I might bleed out, but I didn’t want to release my emotions. I swallowed them down hard and pretended to be unbothered.  I was convicted, but not convinced.  I was divided.

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Parallel Lines

My heart knows that if it is truly God’s will, then I may indeed lose again.  And I’m struggling to live in a state of acceptance with that truth.  Because right now, I want what I want to be what He wants.  And I want to understand.  To see the bigger picture.  And how this journey ends. 

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Watching Life Unfold

How is it that you’ve been gone for as long as you were with me?  From 38 weeks of growing you, to 38 weeks of life without you.

Time looks so differently.

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The Secret Place

You know me inside out. You know what I can’t comprehend or articulate.You know me. Let me know who I am. Let me know you. 

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Feeling vs. Wanting

“O soul, steeped in darkness, do not despair. All is not yet lost.  Come and confide in your God, Who is Love and Mercy.”  (St. Faustina) 

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Eight Months

I do not know where I am going.  But I need to go SOMEWHERE. 

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New Song

I am learning who I am.  And who I am is new.  And who I am needs change.  Who I am needs “a new song.” 

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The Hall of Shame

I hated that moment of utter shame, and for some reason my heart is revisiting that space of heartbreak tonight when I felt complete despair and profound confusion.  I hadn’t done anything wrong, and yet, I felt like I was being punished.  I wanted to die in that moment.

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A Dwelling Place

I went to the chapel one night, in the throes of my grief.  Visceral memories of her delivery and remembering how I let God into the pain that day entered into my mind and heart.  I felt the pain again.  All of it.  Physical, mental, spiritual, and emotional. 

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Ambushed

Last week I was ambushed.  Under attack.  And I couldn’t escape it.  Couldn’t find my way out. 

My enemy was myself.

My mind.  My thoughts.  My fears.  My anxiety.  I made myself a prisoner.  A slave to irrational behavior, motives, and beliefs.

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Waking Up

I didn’t want to sleep, because I didn’t want to awake and realize that this wasn’t all a terribly bad dream...for my life and for her life.  That in our waking moments, we live a nightmare that we will never awake from.  

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Running

So I run.  And I look back.  Because I wonder if I can out run reality...but it’s catching me.  This little girl sees it.  And she’s terrified. 

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