Blessings and Grief

In just a couple of days we will be heading to the lake with my family for a week. I’m grateful for the break that is coming both from work and just the mental load of life. I’m thankful to spend it with family I don’t live close to and don’t always get to be around. I’m excited for more time outside and temperatures that will make that time enjoyable. There is lots to be grateful for within this trip. And there is a heaviness that comes with this trip as well. This is the first real “family” vacation that we will be going on without Eliana. We went for a couple of days last year and have had time off during the year but this is the first real, week-long family-centered trip. And it’s a little heavy. I wish more than anything I was packing her bag and getting her little swimsuits ready to go. I’d give anything to be worried about all the things I’d need to bring for her, instead of just the normal things we bring. I wish the car was busting at the seams because you always need so many things with a young toddler. While relaxing will be nice my heart aches to think of being without the busyness of her walking everywhere and trying to jump in the lake. It’s all the memories I’d hoped to one day make with her that won’t be there.

I think this is one of the hardest parts of grief, especially when you lose a baby or child. The memories and the moments that you had dreamed and hoped to have with them are now never going to happen. It makes it feel almost impossible to know how to keep moving forward without them. When memory after memory and new milestone after new milestone keep coming up and flying by. Your heart barely has a chance to recover before it’s on to something new. It’s hard to balance that with the demands of daily life and then the joy and hope we get to hold because of the gift of Jesus. There is a heaviness that always comes with grief. An overwhelming hurt and pain that seems as though it will never fade. A feeling deep in your stomach that hurts you to your core when memories are not what you’d hoped for or moments are hard instead of joyful. They are moments I’ve learned not to ignore. Not to let just pass by without being intentional about how you’re feeling. Moments to let yourself be honest and open, knowing the moment will pass and that they are driven by a fierce love. For that is what such deep grief is, it’s driven by such a grand amount of love.

People say that joy and grief can co-exist and I believe that is true. I also think that you can be living a blessing and be grateful for it and still feel great grief and pain. It’s a messy place to live in but it’s real. It’s one I think too many of us have to live in for many different reasons. Whether the loss of a loved one, the brokenness of a relationship, or the pain of past trauma. There are so many moments we hope for and dream of that never get to be. And yet there are also so many blessings we get to live in as well. With family and friends, on vacations, or just being together. So many moments that are beautiful too. Moments that are blessings. It’s okay to live in both of those moments and to be honest about how each one feels and is. When one moment is excruciating and the next is filled with joy, peace or love know that it’s okay. It’s all part of this messy world we live in and each moment has its place. We live in the brokenness of this world while keeping our eyes focused on the hope and eternal joy we will have forever.