Hanging in There on a Not-So-Happy Friday

Brandon's Monument Front.jpg

It is so easy to fall into the pit of despondency. One minute I am making my oldest son’s birthday cake. The next minute I am trying to keep my tears out of the whipped cream. I don’t want my life to be defined by Brandon’s death. Yet, I can’t shake the feeling that who I am will forever be shadowed by that one tragic event.

Some days I try to not even think about him at all. When I think of him, it hurts. So, to avoid the hurt, I try not to think about him. Then I become scared that I might forget him. And I feel guilty, all over again. Grief can be so complicated and, yet, so simple.

I am sad.

I know that I can’t go back. But every fiber in me begs to do so. I find myself wondering, if I could, to what point in my history would I return. And then I realize, again, that it doesn’t matter. God is the only one who controls time and the laws of nature. And He has refused my pleas. Time will only march forward.

Life goes on, not only for me but for so many who are suffering. I am keenly aware of others who have experienced loss. I know I am not alone. I know that others have suffered, are suffering, will suffer. But that is no comfort. I feel so isolated. I am sure that is one of Satan’s tools. Like any good predator, his goal is to get me alone. Then, I am much easier prey.

I am so tired. I want to sleep all the time. This battle is exhausting. It is a fight every day to keep my foothold, not to slip, not to allow my emotions to drag me down into that pit.  Today, I feel like I am losing. But, I cling to Psalm 18 and remember, that God’s “right hand supports me” and that He has “made a wide path for my feet to keep them from slipping.” I am clinging to the promise that He is my Rock and salvation. He is holding me when I cannot hold myself.