Nobody ever told me grief could look so much like anger.
I had to change the header on my blog. I was getting tired of yelling, Stop being so freaking HAPPY! in my mind every time I looked at it.
I’ve cried every day for weeks now. Even before Grace passed I was crying everyday, the weight of her condition crushing on my heart. Except a few days ago I realized at the end of the day I hadn’t cried. And then that made me want to cry.
I think people who interact with me in real life would be surprised to read this because outwardly I appear like I’m coping pretty well. But it’s the private moments when I fall apart and I wonder if I will ever feel “normal” again, whatever normal used to be.
I guess the days when I could not associate everything back to Grace.
Today is Tuesday. I should be 33 weeks and 5 days.
July 4th. I dread that day. I should have a little girl dressed in red, white, and blue.
You lost your brother-in-law April 27th, two days after we lost Grace.
That little girl’s middle name is Grace and she walks holding her Daddy’s hand. Grace would’ve too.
Elvis’ birthday is January 8th. We found out about Grace’s condition January 18th.
April Fool’s Day we were in Seattle. We got the news of her heart failure April 2nd.
They’re going to the zoo? I was pregnant with Grace at the zoo. I waddled around all day long.
That park. We were there the day before Grace passed. Somehow I knew it was close. I cried all day long.
Grief is angering. It’s angering because there’s no way around it but straight through it. It’s not like other situations, like a difficult relationship (and believe me I have those too), where you can walk away for awhile. Clear your head, gain some perspective.
I can’t walk away from me. It’s my heart that’s the holding place for all this pain and loss.
I was telling a friend recently though that I feel like I have a deeper understanding of the spiritual world because I literally feel people’s prayers for me. What’s happening in the spiritual I’m experiencing tangibly in this world. I actually feel comfort and grace and peace.
The other night (the night of The Rainbow – I’ll explain in a minute) I was driving home and I had this overwhelming feeling of being loved. Which, for perfectionist personalities like mine, is pretty amazing. Oftentimes I feel like if I’m not getting it exactly “right” all the time, then everything about me is wrong.
(Can anybody else relate? Tell me I’m not the only one.)
But as I drove home by myself I was awash with such a feeling of being loved, it took me completely aback. I soaked it in, thinking, I AM loved. That’s amazing. I’m loved.
Your prayers are taking root and bearing fruit in my (our) life.
So thank you.
Now, about The Rainbow. (Actually, it was a full double rainbow. Even more amazing.)
I was driving to meet Matt a couple nights ago and suddenly this rainbow appeared and shot out a trillion watts of brilliance, literally causing me to veer my car off the road, jump out and try in my finite mind to take it in. At one point I was walking around trying to find the best view to capture it with my phone and I was talking out loud the entire time, Lord, you’re AMAZING. I can’t BELIEVE it. You’re amazing, absolutely amazing. Oh my gosh, this is UNREAL.
And so on and so forth. But it totally exploded my brain for Eternity because I actually wanted it to stop. It was so beautiful and so brilliant that I couldn’t take it any more. The literal testimony of Creation to the Creator was too much, my finite brain couldn’t hold it all in. So when the clouds moved and the sun was hidden and it disappeared, I was actually relieved.
Isn’t that interesting? No wonder people fell on their faces when they encountered God in the Bible. We’re simply unable to be unaffected in the presence of such holiness and splendor. And no wonder John, the writer of Revelation, used the word like so many times. There’s just no accurately describing such beauty and brilliance.
So here it is – The Rainbow. In unfiltered splendor.