Good morning…
“Hi Sue,” she wrote. “I have fully experienced how close the Lord has been in my grief, and no doubt, He alone has saved me. I do feel like He is blessing me tremendously and showing me tremendous favor as I begin to live again after Dalton’s death 5 1/2 years ago. Still so fresh.”
“However, there are those days, quite a few if I am being honest, when I am feeling deeply wounded, bitter, resentful and angry, and want to scream at anyone and everyone that posts about grief!” she shared from her core. “I want to tell them that if you have not had a child ripped out of your arms, you have NO right to say you understand grief or talk about what comes from our loss. I don’t actually feel that way most of the time but ugh, it sure stings sometimes! My wound is still so raw.💔”
“I have to be so intentional about giving ALL of these feelings to God and asking Him for help,” she continued. “I do not ever want to stay in a place of bitterness, but as the holidays and Dalton’s birthday approach, I have to be extra diligent seeking God first. It’s a choice and one I have to wake up and make every day, all day. I am teary as I write this message to you because I am just sad! I miss my boy! These are the days that I just have to allow the Holy Spirit comfort me and continue to push forward. I have to do this so that I can continue to love deeply, feel grateful, and count the many blessings in my life.”
“Your posts always help me process things that I may not know I am feeling,” she admitted, “but when they sting, I know I have work to do! So thank you!”
“Posts that sting certainly help us to experience the healing edge of the Holy Spirit,” I replied. “Seems like living with these raw open wounds would be like walking on egg shells through an open air chicken coop. Unprotected. Vulnerable. The possibility of unpredictable pain with every step.”
“A woman who lost her husband a year and a half ago wrote gorgeous excruciating words for yesterday’s post, Grieving A Soulmate,” I continued. “Might I share your stinging words with our written word community? It’s so important for us to offer words to hold onto as many travel through the landscape of loss, especially as the holidays lie just around the bend. I appreciate your honesty, deep and difficult.”
“Yes! Exactly! A great visual but sometimes more like oyster shells (tough, knobby, hard to crack into),” she replied. “I feel like people need to know that the reality is it’s ok to be really angry and bitter, that it is normal, as long as we also allow God to help us move through it, and prayerfully, not get stuck for too long. My book, As The Raven Cries: Choosing the Light of Hope Amid the Storm, talks a lot about this! And yes, of course, feel free to share!”
We’ve been overwhelmed with grief; come now and overwhelm us with gladness. Replace our years of trouble with decades of delight (Psalm 90:15, TPT).
…Sue…
P.S. The soulful subscriber above, Mary Dalton Waite, lost her young adult son to the grips of addiction. Our Atlanta community is offering support for the many impacted by the power of addiction. Through the One Lamb initiative for mental health at Peachtree Road United Methodist Church, God has inspired the mind, the heart, and the soul of the program’s founder, Diane Moffett. Diane wrote me this email yesterday.
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