Grief is strange. I am at a point where a week or two can pass with no aches or tears, but then out of nowhere a word, phrase, look, or innocent question-at times not even directed at me- can make the world stop and waves of sadness crash down. This can be so surprising that I struggle to not break down in a public setting.
I breathe deeply, fight back tears and pray. I pray hard. There are moments when I am not even sure what I am praying. My heart knows the words my mouth can't form. These moments of greif and helplessness are teaching me about faith.
They occur so suddenly, so randomly, that I often have no choice, but to rely on God to get me through the pain of the moment. Often a verse or a praise song will pop into my head, and it is always the perfect comfort.
I do not enjoy these moments of greif. I still, after exactly six months, want to have him here. There are still moments when I can't believe he is gone. I still long to hold him. I still hurt. The only way to survive is to accept these moments as a chance to grow in faith and be reminded of my Savior's perfect love.
The reminders don't come as loud proclamations, or mind blowing miracles. They are quietly whispered to a broken heart. Time and again, the Lord of all Creation leans down to tell me He loves me and will carry me.
My greif may never end, but neither does God's perfect love. By relying on that to survive, I will hopefully be able to reflect that love and help other hurting hearts. I Canthink of no better wat to honor my son then to continue to strive towards that goal.