I don't know that I will ever be able to write each person back who has reached out in the last 8 or 9 months. I owe so many people thank you notes that I should invest in that super cute store, Paper Source. But, that does not diminish each and every note, card, blanket made, care package, gift card, donation, prayer we received. Every single one has been cherished along the way.
My heart is grateful and we would be utterly destitute without you and the generosity of others making sacrifices on our behalf on a daily basis.
So..for what it is worth....
Thank you from the bottom of our hearts.
You have been a tangible Jesus to our family and you've kept us from being hauled off to the poor house and the loony bin.
The other question I get from people who love me is...
"How are you doing?"
I often don't answer. It is not to be rude. It is because as I read the question worded in so many different ways, I take a moment to reflect.
For months, in just one minute I will be angry, overcome with grief, anxious, full of tears, feel like I may throw up but then belly laugh at my silly husband letting our two year old climb the wall. I'm sleepless yet feel like I've run ten marathons. Every task (including writing this) takes herculean strength to complete. Why does it take me all day to write an email??? I feel like I'm swimming through mud and walking around with cement in my shoes.
How am I supposed to feel? I don't know. I'm mad as hell. I'm devastated. I'll never be the same.
I was reading the book A Grace Disguised this morning. The author lost his mother, wife and daughter in a car accident and he was left to raise their other 3 children. He talks about trauma like this as being an amputation. He says that some loss is like a broken bone that will mend but those who have lost a limb have to learn a new normal altogether. I have a lot to learn.
I've been on the front lines of war and now I'm suddenly jerked back into normal society with PTSD. I'm reading and learning from others who have gone before me on this sorrowful path. I learning that I have no control in my life except my response to what happens.
I refuse to let myself grow bitter because I know we serve a BIG God who does things like allow your baby to die without explanation but He is not cruel. He is good. He is eternal. His ways are not my ways. I'm still mad as hell but He is big enough to handle all of that and loves me just the same.
How am I doing? I'm full of tears and missing my chubby, squishy baby boy and trying to keep myself sane.
My heart is grateful and we would be utterly destitute without you and the generosity of others making sacrifices on our behalf on a daily basis.
So..for what it is worth....
Thank you from the bottom of our hearts.
You have been a tangible Jesus to our family and you've kept us from being hauled off to the poor house and the loony bin.
The other question I get from people who love me is...
"How are you doing?"
I often don't answer. It is not to be rude. It is because as I read the question worded in so many different ways, I take a moment to reflect.
For months, in just one minute I will be angry, overcome with grief, anxious, full of tears, feel like I may throw up but then belly laugh at my silly husband letting our two year old climb the wall. I'm sleepless yet feel like I've run ten marathons. Every task (including writing this) takes herculean strength to complete. Why does it take me all day to write an email??? I feel like I'm swimming through mud and walking around with cement in my shoes.
How am I supposed to feel? I don't know. I'm mad as hell. I'm devastated. I'll never be the same.
I was reading the book A Grace Disguised this morning. The author lost his mother, wife and daughter in a car accident and he was left to raise their other 3 children. He talks about trauma like this as being an amputation. He says that some loss is like a broken bone that will mend but those who have lost a limb have to learn a new normal altogether. I have a lot to learn.
I've been on the front lines of war and now I'm suddenly jerked back into normal society with PTSD. I'm reading and learning from others who have gone before me on this sorrowful path. I learning that I have no control in my life except my response to what happens.
I refuse to let myself grow bitter because I know we serve a BIG God who does things like allow your baby to die without explanation but He is not cruel. He is good. He is eternal. His ways are not my ways. I'm still mad as hell but He is big enough to handle all of that and loves me just the same.
How am I doing? I'm full of tears and missing my chubby, squishy baby boy and trying to keep myself sane.
