I'm learning

Original date 27 March 2011

Did I do all that I could do?  Was it wrong to give him permission to go?  Should I have knocked on door after door after door until some doctor eventually healed him?

I've discovered after the death of Brian that grieving is work...exhausting and regressive.  I find that it doesn't progress in neat and  predictable stages but is frustratingly erratic and repetitive.  I see improvement overall in how I feel; a gradual lessening  of the pain and fear, a growing confidence in my ability to handle life's everydayness.

But setbacks are sudden and frequent.  I often find terrain that I thought I traversed and left behind months ago maddeningly underfoot again.  I am still swept away by an unexpected wave of pain and hurt, the staggering awareness that Brian is not, and never will be, here with me again.

But I'm learning that the best way to get to the other side is to go through it, to face it and to name it, to accept the pain and deal with it as directly as I can.  I'm also finding, to my surprise, that there are frequent stretches of days without tears, and any feelings of despair have been only fleeting.

Beauty can help bring healing--rainbows, mountains, strawberries and ice cream, chasing fireflies in June,  the crisp feel of sun-dried sheets.   I am convinced that God has built into all of us, in varying degrees, the capacity for an appreciation of beauty, and has even allowed us the privilege of participating in the creation of beautiful things and beautiful places.  I think it may be one way God brings healing to our brokenness, and a way that we can contribute toward bringing wholeness to our fallen world.