After losing my grandmother to cancer in December we recently recieved news that my grandfather has cancer now too. Coping with her loss while simultaneously coming to terms with his illness has understandably made me a slew of emotions. I find myself pushing on to keep from going under. Whether I wanted to or not this has forced me to look at what I had, what I never had, what I wanted, what my underlying fear has always been. Grief has a way of bringing unresolved junk to the surface.
A few weeks ago I found myself bursting into hysterics as I gazed up at Eric. I was not sure where these emotions were coming from but they burst forth like a wave of a thousand oceans pushed into one. Out of no where I heaved, “Please, do not leave.”
Despite the normal day we had been having this was the only thing on my mind. Eventually he would get sick of the mess that I am. That is when it finally hit me how shattered this experience had made me.
Old wounds spewed up without a moment’s notice and all that felt left of me was this hollow shell of insecurity. I sobbed. Ugly sobbed in my rightful spot on my man’s chest. That chest has felt many of my tears over the years…yet here we were. 11 years later, lying in our own bed, in our own house, with my own fears pooling out at every sob.
Years of questions. Years of uncertainty spanning over the earliest years of my life had reached the surface and I could no longer keep the tide at bay. That man silenced my fears in an instant. “I am not going anywhere. We are a family.”
In that moment where my makeup was in my eyes, running down my cheeks, dripping on to his sternum, I felt it and I knew it to be true.
The months leading up to my grandmother’s passing and everyday after have put me in this kind of sweet spot with God. A kind of reliance I did not know I needed until now. A spot where my emotional nakedness as met with understanding. Even in the anger and disappointment there was a comfort in knowing he would always be with me, never leave me alone, and always surround me with the people I need most. In 2 Samuel 7:18, David says, “Who am I, O Sovereign Lord, and what is my family, that you have brought me this far?” and I find myself wondering the same thing.
Even if we are in the midst of tragedy and uncertainty, even in the midst of exhaustion and burnout, even in the midst of parenting when you are needing parenting yourself, there is hope.
Those who live in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty. This I declare about the Lord : He alone is my refuge, my place of safety; he is my God, and I trust him.
Psalms 91:1-2 NLT