I’m not sure where to start after my last post. That was a painful one to write, but it came in the midst of a very painful season of my grief journey.

One thing I’ve strived to do throughout this process is be as transparent as I feel safe in doing, because I want people to know what this feels like for three main reasons:

(1) I want other women that have found themselves walking Grief Road as a widow to know that they’re not alone…that God allows us to comfort each other with the comfort He also has given us. We are at varying phases of the journey, and our journeys are certainly not the same. Each Grief Road is like a snowflake, in my opinion. No two are the same, yet there are enough similarities that they are relatable.

(2) In the case that someone reading this might have ever contemplated suicide, I pray the pain and the “after effects” of making such a final decision stay clearly in the front of their mind, causing that to never take place. I want hurting people to read my words or watch my Vlogs and see the pain it causes those left behind and maybe…just maybe…it will be enough to say “it’s not worth it”.

(3) I pray that the body of Christ that hasn’t ever been affected by death first-hand, or in a long time, learns how badly the population of widows needs you. The Lord, in His Word, is VERY clear about how much He cares for orphans and widows and the mandate He gives in caring for them. I am the first to admit, I was much happier to jump on the orphan advocacy “train” before colliding with the widow train head on. But, God never differentiated between the two saying one was more important to care for than the other. We’ve made that differentiation on our own. I hate to admit…I was in that group. So, I pray that my posts help to awaken a need…a deep need in the church. I have been blessed to be cared for by several in my church body quite well, but I know how easy it is to dismiss widows, in general.

Even saying all of that, there is still much I don’t share. It’s too personal. It’s too painful. I don’t believe it will edify anybody if I write it on this format. And…so, I don’t. The snippets of this journey that I share on this platform are just that…snippets. Oh, friends, there is so much more. So, very much more. In time, maybe God will allow me to share more.

So, where am I now? Tomorrow marks eight months since my husband was first discovered as missing. Eight months since my living nightmare began. And, in eight months, I’m still deeply hurting, questioning, and aching. But, I’ve also seen Christ reach down and meet me where I’m at, pull me out of the mire, refresh my weary soul, and begin a process of restoration. A slow beginning, but a beginning nonetheless. And…so I let Him. I have been quieter than normal, because I’m listening a lot more.

There are still many firsts ahead to embrace…my first birthday without him later this month (turning 40, on top of that), Valentine’s Day, Easter, the first anniversary of his death, and those are just the major ones. But, I’m still trusting in God’s greater plan through all of this.

Just last weekend, I challenged Him with a question…one that I hadn’t asked of the Lord before, but I finally did…

Lord, why didn’t You stop him? You could have. I know You could have. Why did You let him take his own life? I know we have free will and all, but he loved You. You would have only had to whisper a word, and he would still be in my arms today. So, what is it Lord that kept that from happening? Why is he with You now instead of with me?

The answer came…immediately…

It was one of those moments I wish I could have back, because I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t been there. I was sitting in my recliner in the bedroom…SOBBING…crying out to the Lord…begging for answers. Right after asking the questions…a calming peace swept over me like I’ve never experienced. In. My. Life. Seriously! And then came the inaudible answer…

Because, I will be more glorified in his death than in his life. 

The sobbing stopped. Immediately. I was simply stunned, as I sat there. And, then I knew. He was right! He’s always right! He’s God! I pondered back to many other people that even predeceased Chris. Others that died too young or in ways that seemed unfair. And, each time God appears to have been way more glorified in their deaths.

May it be so, Lord! May it please be so!

Going through the motions. That’s what I’m doing these days. The motions…of simply living, that is.

I wake. I perform my morning routine.
I arrive at work. I perform my workday routine.
I return home. I perform my evening routine.

Sometimes, I just sit…performing my “nothingness routine”.

As I pondered this last night, I began to think that, for me, going through the motions really means “performance living”.

I’ve entered a new unfamiliar stage of this grief journey. Nearly 8 months into this, I find lots of discomfort in this new territory. I’ve experienced small fragments of time like this previously since my husband’s death, but nothing this consistent. I just don’t have the energy for true, purposeful living right now. Yes, I’m living day by day, obviously. But, I’ve discovered I’m really doing more “performing”. I’m like an actress, performing the role of Leah, the widow. There are certain tasks that must be performed everyday. I do them, but that’s it. That’s the extent of it.

I don’t like this role, at all. I want to be cast in a new role…one with more pizzazz, more excitement, more joy! I have so much I want to share…so much I want to give back…so much life to live! But, I have no energy right now, so my desires translate into very little.

I’m a fixer, a doer, a Type A perfectionist (yes, I admit it). But, right now, I feel lazy, unproductive, and somewhat “fake”. I feel like I see the shell of a woman I don’t recognize anymore. And, that translates into many areas of my life. I spent the first 5 months of 2011 losing weight in a healthy manner. After Chris died, I lost even more (just due to grieving). But, by August…food became my comfort again. Not good. At all. I don’t recognize me anymore and am sickened by what I see in the mirror every single day.

So, I’m struggling right now…with grief, with purpose, with self-esteem, and with trying to regain focus. I simply can’t stand this.

Jesus came for more than this. “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” John 10:10 NASB

Lord, I beg you. Show me how to live that abundant life. Give me renewed strength and energy. I want more than this performance living. I want all that You gave up for me on that cross over 2000 years ago. Help me, Lord!