Secondary Grief

When you lose someone very close, you will grieve forever – or so it has been said.

I don't really agree with that statement . . . at least not just at face value.

The active grieving will fade as time passes – and, no, it is not time that heals all wounds – Only God heals our hearts – and only if we let Him. (We definitely can choose to hold onto our grief and live in it every day.) It is the natural process – the way God has wired us – that allows us to continue on after we have lost someone we love.  Though the active grieving subsides, there will still be 'moments' of grief that come and go.  I have been through this many times over.

Though I disagree with that opening statement, I do believe that loss changes a person – for better or for worse.  My theory is that that statement came about because of one of the changes that loss makes:   Loss creates a heightened sense of certain things.

About a dozen years ago, I had a strange injury at work – one that resulted ultimately in the surgical loss of the tip of my finger.  My surgeon assured me that the nerves were not cut – they were separated from the affected tissue and left intact.  From a medical standpoint, those nerves are whole.  However, those nerves are not 'normal' – at least not by the standard of what they used to be.   There is a new 'normal':

• Hot and cold don't feel the same – I don't always feel hot, and cold is very painful.
• I have mostly normal texture sensitivity – but not completely.
• Some days, it is numb.
• There are days it is incredibly stiff and uncooperative.
• There's that crazy phenomenon with weather changes irritating it....
• By far – the biggest change has been the pain-sensing aspect: If something pokes or bumps the tip of that finger, I definitely know it! The pain level is well beyond anything 'normal' – sometimes making the injury feel fresh again.

Most days, I don't give any thought to that finger – I simply go through life and do what I need to do.  There are adjustments, though.  If I really need to feel temperature, I have to use a different finger.   The same applies to when I need a careful texture sensitivity. If it gets bumped or poked in certain ways, I may need to stop what I had been doing for a while.   I may need to give my hand some extra attention by way of an ice pack, heat pack, or splint.  I may need to be very protective of it for a time to allow that heightened pain sensitivity to calm down.

Just as it is so with my post-injury finger, so are our lives post-loss. . . .

We are still here living our lives, but we have been altered in some ways with a heightened sensitivity.

There are people and situations we encounter that trigger responses and can make our grief feel 'fresh' again. 

Maybe someone near you is going through a situation similar to your experience – those feelings you had in your own experience may come rushing back in, and your grief feels fresh again.

Maybe you are 'tapped out' mentally and emotionally – your reserves are empty – when you learn of someone's difficult situation. Though you genuinely care, you feel nothing. Your emotions are numb to that.

Sometimes, it is an overload:  There are so many hurting people around you – and you truly want to empathize – and it is so very painful to do so. The overload may be such that you just . can't . emotionally invest.

Sometimes, though, you feel grieved for someone or something that is far removed from your personal loss; and yet it causes you to grieve your own loss anew. . . . That's where I have been at times this year.

Just as many others have done, I have been watching the events of this year; and my heart is grieved.

• I am grieved for our country and the direction I see it going.
• I am grieved as I see people living in fear.
• I am grieved to see lawless behavior not only happening (which is sad enough on its own), but being allowed to continue and even being applauded.
• I am grieved for those who have been affected by natural disasters.
• I am very deeply grieved for those in hospitals and care centers who have been denied the advocacy, love, and care from friends and family.

As I grieve for all of these – and more – I find that the grief of loss has been stirred.  I consider it a secondary grief – grief for my loss(es), yes; but a grief that is more prompted than purely natural -- Like my finger feeling newly injured when it has simply been bumped or poked.

Tears come much more easily these days.   That sense of loneliness has been a bigger battle this year.  Smaller matters feel much bigger some days.  Sometimes the overload hits, and I feel mentally and emotionally numb.  And to be completely honest, there are days I just plain don't want to cope with anything more.

When these times come, it is so very important to lean on the truths that we know.  I've written about it before – so much of how we go through life is a choice.  We have to choose to believe the things that we know – choose what we know over how we feel.  We choose to trust God.  We choose to believe what He has said.  We choose to live in His strength instead of our own.  We choose to be thankful for His goodness.

Whatever life brings, God enables us to go through it.

He has promised that He will work things together for good for those who love Him. (Romans 8:28)

He tells us that His strength is perfected in our weakness. (II Cor. 12:9)

He tells us that He will never leave us alone. (Heb. 13:5)

He tells us to give Him all that concerns us. (I Peter 5:7)

God's Word is full of these and so many more principles and promises.

In all that I encounter in life, I choose to be thankful for all that God has done and for the fact that He can be trusted.  In my hardest days, I lean more on Him -- He loves me, He cares for me, He strengthens me.  He is my Rock, my Fortress, my Guide.

I am far from perfect in this journey of life; but I am determined to continually refocus my gaze on my Heavenly Father, and I hope to encourage others to do the same.

Family Update . . . and Reflecting on the Journey

I didn't realize how long it had been since I posted . . . . The days do seem to slip away from me at times.

Life has been incredibly busy . . . I'm not sure it will ever really slow down.  I had been looking forward to the 'relaxed pace' of summer, but there was so much to be done that it felt as though it just sped past me.

Summer was good, just very busy as I said.  My youngest was the only one of my three who was still young enough to attend the basketball clinic that my children have gone to for the past 8 years . . . hard to believe he only has one more summer that he's still able to attend!  My daughter was disappointed that she had outgrown the program, and so she decided to contact the man who runs the program and ask if she could help.  He allowed her to do so, and I think she really enjoyed being on the 'other side' of the program.  It was good for her.

We had our usual Vacation Bible Time (VBT) at church, and everyone had their place.  This was my oldest's first year of being a helper.  Changes keep coming along. . .

Immediately after VBT, we left on vacation.  It was a good trip!  It is always good to get to go back to Pensacola and see friends . . . and always so hard to say goodbye when the visit is over!  We split up our drive home over 3 days and had some fun along the way.  We stopped at the Mark Twain Cave in Hannibal, MO.  The cave tour was a first for all of us.  The last day of our drive home, we were able to stop in and see some very dear friends.  That was a great blessing, too.

In August, we had camp.  This was Nathaniel's first year as a worker, and Jonathan's first year to get to go.  I believe they each had a good time.

Nathaniel also played softball on our church team again this summer.  His skills have improved, and it was noticed.

The remainder of our summer was spent on getting much-needed projects done.  And in the next blink of an eye, it seemed, it was time for school to start again.  This year, Nathaniel is a 10th grader, Esther is a 7th grader, and Jonathan is a 5th grader --  It is my last year of having an child in elementary.

This summer, we found out that Esther has some congenitally-missing teeth . . . so this fall we started the process with braces to properly align what is there and have her ready for implants when she gets older.

I was also able to get Jonathan in for a vision-function exam.  His eyesight is 20/20, but I knew there was more to the picture.  The eye fatigue is too great - and it gets to that level too quickly and too frequently.  The exam was very interesting.  It confirmed what I had concluded through observation and also gave me more insight to what is really going on.  This week, we start vision therapy.  They promise me the change will be dramatic.  I am praying that is the case.

We just ended volleyball season for Esther, and in a few short weeks, we will start up with basketball season for Esther and Nathaniel - the schedule is bound to be even crazier through all of that.  I'm enjoying these few short weeks of no sports schedule!

 As I've been sorting through things lately, I've been reminded of all we went through three years ago.  (FB likes to remind me, as well.)  I don't want those memories to weigh me down -- I want them to remind me to look upward.  Those were certainly hard days -- it was three years ago today that I was told that it was very likely that I was entering the final hours I would have with my husband . . . .   God saw fit to give us several more weeks.  It was the beginning of a very strange time -- A time for which I struggle to find the words to describe.  However, it was also a time of God's amazing power blazing brightly.

Amidst all that we faced, God gave His Peace that truly passes our understanding.  Aside from a few moments when I needed to realign my thoughts, there was no fear. Though there was a tremendous loss - both while Trent was still with us and after he was gone - there was no despair.  There was a settled peace amidst all of that. I still chuckle to myself when people comment about me being so strong through all of that - and I remind them that it wasn't my strength at all -- it was all of God's strength.  Through the depths of my weakness, He showed His incredible Power!

I never want to forget God's working in our lives through all that was - and has been.  God made His Presence so real to us - His Grace was more than abundant  - His Strength was amazing - His Peace was beyond words. 

We have an AWESOME God!  (I don't say that lightly.)  In my Sunday School class, I try to emphasize to my girls how truly INCREDIBLE God is!  God made each of us individually - and for a purpose.  God has a plan for each of our lives.  God loves us more than we could ever comprehend.  To top it off . . . HE NEVER CHANGES!   He will always love us!  

It is easy to get our eyes on our circumstances, but we need to never lose sight of Who God is and all that He does!  (Have you reflected lately on Who God is?)

So today - as I write these words - I allow a few tears to fall.  They are not tears of sadness.  They are tears of thankfulness and of being overwhelmed with God's Goodness to us.  For those who have followed me in this journey, if you shed tears today, I hope they will be the same.  I hope you will join me in thanking God for Who He is and for all He has done for us.

Thoughts Along the Path

There has been much to think on over the past several weeks. 

*One of the first things that I realized was the great blessing of God's unchanging nature.  Just as God was loving and kind and in control before we received this diagnosis, he was still those same things afterward.  What we knew about our situation had changed.  What we knew about God's character had not changed -- and it never will.  Yes, I knew before that day that God's character was unchanging; but it was such a great comfort and blessing to be able to think on that attribute of God through all of the emotional weightiness of those first few days.

*Many times, a diagnosis such as this -- Incurable Stage 4 Metastatic Cancer -- is thought to be something that shortens a person's life.  I don't see it that way.  I believe that God has known before we existed the day we would enter this earth and the day we will depart.  I don't believe that this diagnosis changes the day that my husband will depart this earth.  I reference this stage of life to being a path.  Our lives will bring us each down many different paths.  We all have somewhat envisioned what the path for our life will be.  No one sets out planning that they will walk the path called Cancer; but that is where God has brought us in life -- and that is all that this diagnosis has changed -- the path that we had envisioned.

*God often does not reveal the 'Why'  for our circumstances, but we do have the promise of His grace to go on.  We must squelch the questions of 'Why' and focus on what God has for us through this.  I desire to learn whatever lessons He has for me, to allow Him to strengthen me, and to glorify Him in whatever lies ahead of me.

*God has given me incredible peace through all of the events recently.  I realized early on that having God's peace was a matter of choice.  God had given me undeniable peace going into this surgery.  Throughout that first afternoon and evening, it kept ringing in my mind, "Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on thee."  (Isaiah 26:3)  As long as I kept my focus on God, I would have His peace.  It was a choice.  God had initially given me His peace -- He wasn't going to take it away just because we now had an 'unfavorable' diagnosis.  His peace was still there for me if only I would choose to accept it.

God's peace has been such a blessing and comfort -- like a soft blanket of love and peace.  Some people misunderstand that.  They mistake the peace for indifference.  I assure you that I am fully connected and deeply impacted by this entire situation.  It's just that God's peace has so completely enveloped my spirit.  I don't fault those who don't see it that way -- I know it is something that you have to experience in order to understand (to the extent that we can humanly understand it, anyway).  This is that 'peace that passeth all understanding', the 'peace in the midst of the storm', and as it has been said, "Sometimes He calms the storm -- other times He simply calms His child."  I am so thankful for His peace!