Leah Stirewalt

I walk into the room, this marking the fourth week in this part of the journey. I feel strong. I feel a bit of happiness. I’m over the “funk” I’ve been in for a few days. Maybe this will be the night that I don’t need the Kleenex box sitting beside me for comfort. I’m not even feeling a single sign of tears in my future for the evening.

We greet each other. Lots of silence in the room. All ladies this go-around, and the silence simply represents a deep {sigh}. A much needed {sigh} from the rigors of the day. Rigors? Always rigors. Could be work, appointments, decision making, or processing this new life without our beloved.

Then comes laughter. Our facilitators always have a way of giving us the gift of laughter for a even a few moments. Relief…sweet relief. Laughter truly is good “medicine”.

We open with prayer, and then the DVD begins. This particular week’s topic…”When Your Spouse Dies”. Ugh!

Let me note that GriefShare is not just for widows or widowers. It’s a great tool/support for anyone grieving the loss of a loved one. So, this particular week was apparently…just…for…me (and the other widows in the room, of course).

I’m still stoic. I’m still strong until the woman beside me “loses it” within the first 3 minutes of the video. Today marks the 1st anniversary of the tragic loss of her young husband (to a heart attack). I feel my tears starting to pour simply in empathy for her.

However, I make it through the video with few tears. I did it! Thank you Lord! I needed a reprieve from the hard grief work that I’m continually doing. But, I was a bit premature in my celebrations…our sharing begins…

Nobody wants to speak first, but talking is where healing takes place. One of our patient facilitators begins with a question for us to ponder (and hopefully answer): What do you fear most about this grief journey? Nobody answers. Silence. I don’t like silence. So, I feel compelled to answer…

“Loneliness” I respond. I go on to share that I fear the loneliness that has already crept in and the loneliness yet to come. I’ve always been so independent, and yet now I find myself almost in a state of co-dependency. As soon as those very words come out of my mouth, the Lord whispers to my heart…

“Daughter, that’s because I want you to be dependent on ME.”

I’m trying Lord. I’m trying so hard to “be still” (as a dear friend tenderly told me just this week that I need to spend more time doing).

The ice must have been broken with my “loneliness” response, and then the discussion continued non-stop until time to leave. It’s more than “discussion”…it’s true sharing actually. We were sharing our journeys of grief with one another. Participating in this GriefShare class is probably one of the toughest things I’ve done on my journey to date. I know I’ve said it before, grief…work…is…hard! I started this class last semester and “dropped out” after just one session. I simply wasn’t ready. But, this time…I knew God told me to return. I’m so glad I did!

It’s not easy, friends. I walk out with a headache most weeks. I leave with little makeup left on my face, as the tears sweep it away. But, I walk out one step further in my healing. I walk out feeling like I may have helped another, even as I’m being helped, as I hear the words with a hug from another participant, “Thank you for your words. You are an inspiration to me.”

Me? An inspiration? I feel like I simply share and cry with the rest of them. If that’s the case…then, we’re ALL an inspiration to each other. Because if nobody shared…our healing might be stalled.

As I leave, the “strong” Leah that walked in is much stronger, but a different kind of strong. The tears I didn’t want to cry actually brought renewed strength. The “happy persona” I wanted to maintain was replaced with a woman, not necessarily happy, but filled with the joy of the Lord. And…through it all…I’m stronger for sharing my grief with these other precious, grieving women.

I encourage you to recommend GriefShare to someone you love that might benefit from this program, or if you are that person…please give it a try. If you click on the picture or any of the GriefShare (blue) links in this post…it will take you to the GriefShare website.

One other note…if you’ve been voting for me this week in the Circle of Moms Top 25 Moms with Inspiring Families blog contest…THANK YOU so much! I hate asking for votes…I really, really do. But, I believe so strongly in the fact that God has given me this story to tell on at least this platform in hopes that my journey might help bring healing and hope to another. That said, if you haven’t voted yet…here’s how it works…click on the pink button in the panel to the right that says “Circle of Moms”. Scroll down until you see my blog “Out of Deep Waters” and click VOTE. Simple as pie. You can vote once every 24 hours.

Continually In His Grip…

I knew it was coming. I’ve had too many good days and weeks to not learn to expect this next wave to be right around the corner. And…it came HARD last night. After posting my daughter’s grief poem yesterday, it would seem only fitting that I can now personally relate to the “tsunami-sized wave threatening to sweep everything in its path out to sea”. It “swept” by to visit me again and wants to take me away. I’m clinging to THE Life Preserver with everything I have right now.

What started this you might wonder? Well, honestly, so do I. Literally, I was doing my “normal” evening activities and had just laid my purse down in my bedroom, and the very next words I found my mouth uttering, “Chris, I want to talk to you so badly right now, baby. Actually, I can talk to you all the time, but I would do anything to hear you speak to me again.” The tears just starting gushing – much like they are now, as I type this. I. Am. So. Lonely. So. Lonely. So Lonely. I need to hear his voice so much. I know that I could go watch our wedding video and hear his voice then. But, I’ve only watched it once since he passed away, and it hurts too much to do so. I can’t do that again right now.

I’ve prayed so much since last night. I know God has heard every prayer, caught every tear, and has been holding me the entire time. But even knowing this, I still ache…I still feel loneliness…I still grieve for my husband…I still grieve the life I never was able to have with him.

Even so…

Please hear me when I say this…yet not my will, O Lord, not my will. I live to serve YOU. Through the tears, through sobs, through the loneliness, through the deep, deep pain…I want HIS will for me!

He took me to a passage in Exodus yesterday that I’ve read gobs of times before, but this time, I read it differently:

In Exodus 4, beginning with verse 10, Moses was beginning to give God the reason that he couldn’t be his spokesman to the Israelites, “O Lord, I have never been eloquent, neither in the past nor since you have spoken to your servant. I am slow of speech and tongue.”

The Lord said to him, “Who gave man his mouth? Who makes him deaf or mute? Who gives him sight or makes him blind? Is it not I, the Lord? Now go; I will help you speak and will teach you what to say.”

Well, we know the outcome of the story, God gave Moses a “helper” – Aaron – God ended up helping them both to speak and taught them both what to say.

For me, I have been in places these last nearly 10 months of grieving where I’ve really questioned God and His abilities. Shameful, I know. But, I have. However, in recent months…I’ve become to trust in the sovereignty of God more than I ever have in my life. Much like He had to remind Moses…(Leah Version): Who made your mouth and can tell it when to say something or when to zip it up? Who do you think allows you to see, and do you know that I can take sight away too at a moment’s notice? It’s me here, Moses! The God who made you, created the entire universe and yet loves you intimately and will take care of you and help you every single step of the way.

In much the same way, He’s had to do the same to me. We had a strong conversation together a few months ago, and it literally changed the course of my grief. I stopped fighting Him and just let Him carry me.

However, that doesn’t take away the imminent pain or sadness. It doesn’t immediately repair my shattered heart with the missing hole. It won’t bring my Chris back to me, and certainly doesn’t give me a “Get Out of Grief Free” card to play. I have to go through the good, bad, and ugly of all of it! But, He has promised to go through it with me and bring me out on the other side even better – if I just trust Him.

I DO trust Him…with everything! Today, I simply trust Him through tears.