Ready for a Fight

I woke up ready to fight and it didn’t matter who, initially. When faced with unpleasant feelings I have taken to finding something that brings me joy and doing it. This time, I turned my attention to a book I’ve been reading, The Epic of Eden, by Sandra L. Richter. It is a thoroughly enlightening book on the redemption, rescue plan of God.  She brings such clarity and connection to the whole of the Bible, enabling me to temporarily put aside the darkness of my grief as I immerse myself in the light of truth. Today, the book did its job as it awakened my mind to the amazing bigger picture, the plan put in motion by God Himself.  As nicely as this tethers me to His goodness, I knew I was using it for nefarious reasons: to avoid the darkness within me. 

Even so, I was not deterred. My next step was to go do some more burden blasting in the yard. With my yard armor on, I began the clean up of the piles of pine needles I had made. Just as I began, I was interrupted by a body issue and, subsequently, each time I began again, I was forced to attend to something else. Finally, it became irritatingly clear that God wanted my attention, not my avoidance, so I took the dogs out to the lake for a walk and a chat. 

Yesterday, Joe and I attended our first quinceanera. As beautiful and life-affirming as it was, it harnessed in me some profound feelings of loss especially as I watched her parents match each other, step for step, on the dance floor.

Philip would have loved everything about this evening. He loved our baseball team and had a particular fondness for our girl. Celebrating her life in this way would have quite possibly exploded him in joy. I could have foreseen a dance injury or two to myself as he twirled me frantically to the music. 

I did my best to delight and celebrate with her family but this morning I could no longer control my internal anguish. I tried to avoid it by slipping into fight mode but that was clearly a ruse. I tried joyful distraction, another ruse. I tried burden busting yard work…until at last, I used up my last bit of avoidance and fell into my grief. As I walked around the pond, I stopped at each shady tree for a fresh wave of sorrow; powerful sobs that I have not seen since the night I sent Philip to Jesus. 

Yes, it is my honor to cry for Philip but it sure is stupidly inefficient and painful.  The addition of physical body issues makes me feel pummeled from multiple sides and it all makes me want to  punch God in the face and move on…

He’s okay with that, I think, because He sees that big picture thing. I daresay it’s why He interrupted my morning so often until He got my attention. He certainly knows the anguish of grief and so much more… Yet He reaches down into my point of need before I am even willing to acknowledge it, and He allows me to want to punch Him. 

Wow.

Thank You, Abba,

Anne

May 8, 2021