Grey Day
I can feel it happening. I am distancing myself from the rawness of the pain. The colors run pale and I am left with this grey version of my life. Sometimes it is just easier to be busy- to run on autopilot. I don’t know how to process the depth of this grief. I don’t know how to live life without my mom. Truthfully, she is the one I would call to ask how to do such a thing.
My dining room has been empty since the month before she died. I took it apart in hopes of creating something fresh and new. Since she has gone I can’t seem to figure out what to do. She is the one I would ask to come over and help me dream up something special. It echoes its emptiness to me daily. She was so gifted in making a house a home. She was so good at telling me what to do.
Who will do that now?
I miss you mom.
I have allowed my heart to thicken a bit this week. All the feelings are just too much sometimes. Life moves on for everyone but me and you are still not here. I miss you so much.
Tonight I hit the wall, mom. I am feeling out of steam. I don’t want to do anything anymore. I just want to crawl into bed. I know that is not okay but that is what I want. I can hear your sweet voice now. “Oh honey,” you would say. Then you would tell me how I don’t have to finish this project, followed by lots of statements about how much you believe in me.
How I miss you.
The whole point of this project? It is not to impress anyone. Not to do anything amazing at all. It has been to stay present. It has been to find his goodness daily. Something to anchor me here as the swirly threatens to carry me down, down, down. I will not go.
I am here. He is good. Yes he is so good.
Especially on the grey days.
Isaiah 12:2 ~”Surely God is my salvation; I will trust and not be afraid. The Lord, the Lord himself, is my strength and my defense; he has become my salvation.”
7 Comments
Stay “here.” Rest. Lean hard into Jesus. HE can take it . . . IF you give it.
This project of yours is helping me. And others. I, too, hit my wall of grief recently. Pushing on no matter what is my only way to continue. Jesus is still here, holding me up, making me breathe, making my heart beat again. Until I finish the job/life He made me for I have no other choice. It’s more difficult than I ever would have imagined.
Reading of your struggles and “ways out of, or around, grief has helped on so many days. Thank you for your honesty and rawness. HUGS. And prayers for your comfort and peace.
Oh Mary Anne, I read and share your blog often. Look up to you and this project for I am 23 and desiring to live a life of His joy regardless the circumstances. This morning I feel compelled to comment. Lord, I lift her up to you. May she continue to seek you in these difficult days, and may her lips continue to praise your name. Lord you are good. Lord you are gracious, and Father you give, and you take away. I ask for your comfort to cover her today, so that she may be joyful in hope, patient in affliction and faithful in prayer (Romans 12:12). Thank you for your heart and vulnerability~
Oh Maryanne, I feel your grief..I have travelled this road.If I could reach through this screen and hug you I would. Know that your mom is always close by..the light will shine little by little..I stumbled upon Christian Yoga and if you want to check it out here’s a link https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=YJolk_6Fob0…..it’s a beautiful gentle way to make part of every day if you choose..Google Morgan Day Cecil. All her videos are scripture based, focussing on one scripture throughout. Thank you for your heart here..
Thank you Patricia! xxoo
This blog spoke to me on many different chords. My dad passed away three years ago on 2-16. As that day approached, again, past 2013, and even now today it still seems so surreal. I miss my dad a lot.
Thank you for your writings and this project… I’ve been following about 2 weeks now. They are raw, they are inspirational, they are fun, they encourage me to do the same, one day. One day I feel the call to express life’s journey and share the scripture, as you are doing. Hugs and prayers…
Thank you Shelly. I am so sorry about your dad. I pray the Lord holds you close as you follow the path with him.
I am so sorry for how you are hurting, but I thank you for sharing your heart so openly. It is encouraging to me to know a person can fiercely love the Lord and still feel like they can’t go on without someone they treasured. Sometimes I feel guilty, thinking if I loved Him “enough”, I wouldn’t need anyone else. But I don’t think that’s true. He knew we’d need each other, or else we’d just be aching for a heaven where we’d finally be able to be held and be His. Thank you for helping me soften to myself in compassion and not shame myself for needing rather than being able to find fullness of joy in the Lord alone, no matter what my life looks like. He knows my heart. And yours. And I think rather than accuse us of hurting, He says, “It is right to weep over this, child.” And here I am, and you are, curled up on His lap begging to be held. And maybe it’s beautiful in more ways than it is tragic, even though we can’t feel or see that right now.