My brain just won’t shut off – the thoughts, memories chase the sleep away. I miss my son. It hurts – time will not heal that. My Charlie dog sits here with me – we talk. It’s OK I trust you, GOD – sleep can’t run forever.
I have always loved the Book of Ruth – beginning way back in my childhood (about a million years ago). It was like a fairy tale to me. Ruth was beautiful and loving and kind. She did not abandoned Naomi in her pain and grief. In the end, Ruth and Boaz fell in love – and in my mind “live happily ever after”. I was so absorbed in Ruth’s story, I never really considered Naomi’s.
Now, I am living Naomi’s story!! Suddenly, I read Ruth from a whole different perspective. Naomi lost both her sons. I lost my only son. I know her pain. I feel her pain. Naomi had a loving daughter-in-law. So do I. I cherish her.
In Ruth Chapter 1, Naomi tells everyone not to call her Naomi anymore. That name meant pleasant. Instead, Naomi wanted to be call Mara which is bitter. Yeah, I am bitter too – I understand. Sometimes the bitterness is all-consuming. But I am trying, everyday trying – not to be bitter. I am trying to remember the end of the story where Naomi is blessed by Ruth’s love and ultimately, her relationship with Boaz. GOD saw her pain and grief and heard her sobs.
So, the loss of Naomi’s sons was not the end of her story.
Maybe this is not the end of my story.
Bit of an odd topic for me – maybe the title should be “another bad idea”.
Let me explain, I am not a neat freak, my house is clean-ish. I try, truly I do. But farm chores come first. Of course, I vacuum and mop daily – I have a German Shepherd. Dishes and counter tops get the daily scrubbing – dust and clutter, I can overlook.
So I came up with a genius idea. I will put all my daily bathroom toiletries in this little basket. Everything will be nice and tidy versus sprawled all over the counter. Then, I simply pickup the basket to wipe down the vanity. Problem, when the age spot fade cream tube is the same color as the toothpaste tube – AAAAAHHH – I threw away my toothbrush and my breath is NOT minty fresh. Maybe the fade cream will remove coffee stains from my chompers??
OK, maybe I need to rethink my storage. But, this is not my worst idea – not by a long shot. There was the time I didn’t want to take time to go to the hair salon so I decided I could cut my own hair – how hard could it be?? That was my hat phase. Oh, then there was the time I super glued my bare foot to the floor – I may never live that one down.
I need more coffee.
My morning began in a blanket fort.
First alarm just went off at 5:30 am. My mind acknowledged the alarm with a snarky snarl, “I have 20 minutes before second alarm goes off.”
I am snuggled in my blanket fort with the blanket pulled tightly over my head. It is a soft, cuddly blanket – feels like kittens – fresh from the dryer last night, smelling sweet. I want to burrow down into my blanket fort and just think of you. No grief, no tears, no pain – safe in blanket fort with happy memories.
I remember pulling couch cushions and blankets and turning our living room into a camp site. I remember looking through the view master at dinosaurs, and pretending they were binoculars and real dinos and we were brave explorers. I remember the giggles and the tickles – blocking out the whole world in our little blanket fort.
The second alarm pierced my perfect memory – had to finally drag it out of my blanket fort. But don’t worry, Son, I will be back. Does anyone else have a blanket fort?
My grief is not weakness. My grief is not sin. My grief is not a lack of faith. My grief does not offend GOD. It is a very human response to a very profound, devastating loss.
I am flawed, broken person. I make mistakes. GOD knows me and loves me anyway.
I live for somedays. Somedays, I am OK. Somedays, I am not OK. Somedays I make good decisions and I make progress. Somedays I make stupid decisions and I slide back. Somedays, I do all that before my first cup of coffee. I know GOD loves me anyway, that’s why I keep trying.
Some days, I do things I don’t really understand, like carry a pebble around all day, clutching it for dear life. Someday, I will retire and explore other ways to support my family. Someday, I will go to the World Equestrian Games in North Carolina – and Someday I will go to Ireland and take my followers along. Someday, I will be able to devote myself full time to hobby farming and crafting. Someday I will something- …. Or maybe never, maybe nothing – I really don’t know.
I chose to share my journey, not force it on anyone. I do not know where this journey will lead me – I don’t have that kind of “written-in-stone” plan. I cannot look that far ahead. I may have to change directions, alter my path a few times as I trod along. I will stumble. I will take wrong turns. I will continue. I will make my journey with GOD, communing with and answering to GOD.
If in my little rantings even just one person can find a pebble they want to pick up and hold for comfort – I am grateful. If sharing my journey can let them know they are not a bad Christian if they scream out in pain, if they cry in the shower, if they suffer with grief or depression or pain – let them know they are loved as they are– then this is a journey worth sharing. GOD loves us all anyway.
2 Corinthians 5:8
We are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord.
I should be happy for you, my Son – I guess that is what this passage is trying to tell me. That is a hard thing for me to process. You are absent from your body, but also absent from our lives. I know you are with the LORD, present before HIM. That must be glorious. At the same time, I know you did not want to leave your family and friends. I know being with LORD is wonderful – but I selfishly want you with me, with us.
GOD, YOU have my baby – I know he is YOUR precious child too. I believe, I know YOU love my baby– so please take care of him.
Help me to focus on the joy he is feeling being with YOU. Help me to understand. Basically, just help me.
This definitely does not get any easier. 30 month and 4 days – and it is still a pain that defies words.
Hold it in. Keep trying.
My prayers are with all who are hurting and struggling. Just keep holding on.
Today, this Lakota prayer for the dead shared by a friend comforts me – I pray it comforts others too:
May your songs of the winds and clouds sweep the pain and sadness out of my friends’ hearts; as they hear those songs, let them know the spirits who are with those songs are at peace.
In an effort to escape my dark, dark mood – I decided to work on acclimating my horses to their upcoming halloween costumes. OK, you may be able to guess the theme, but as you can see, Wildfire was not at all afraid of the sombrero. Horses and dogs and cat and goose, all make great therapist. The journey is still very hard, but they lift me up.
OK, I am not a sports person, at least not any sport that does not include a horse. So please forgive me if I use the wrong terms.
My husband is a sports fan, all sports. He was watching a replay of some baseball game – one team was down by 12 runs or something like that. Essentially, the game was over for them. They already lost. But they keep playing, taking their bat turns.
It made me cry and I struggled to understand why – I don’t care about baseball. But then, I realized, it is how I feel. The game is already over. I lost, when I lost my son – GAME OVER. But I am still playing. There are still innings left. I don’t know why, but apparently, I still have innings left.
Just like the baseball players keep playing for the sake of their pride or their team or their fans or advertisers – whatever reason. I keep playing. I keep playing for my husband, my family, my animals – I just keep getting up to take my turn at bat. I will never get a home run or even a hit – I just feel like I can only strike out – but I am going to keep swinging. I know there are so many depending on me.
I am sorry, this is such a dismal post this evening. I am just on the dark side tonight – strong people break too – they just break on the inside where no one sees.
Thank you, GOD, for loving me. Thank you for my Charlie Dog. Hugging him helps so much.
The sun will come up tomorrow.
Prayers for all enduring storms.