Got sucked out to sea big time today. The waves of grief came crashing in like a tsunami and had me a whirlpool before I knew what hit me. I hate this. I think the fact that next Tuesday is the 29th and ten months since Matt died is hitting me hard. I thought to myself, "It's actually harder now than when he died because I still have to live. I could possibly have another 40 or so more years before dying myself." I was just so utterly discouraged. I found myself wondering, "Why, God? Why do we have to live on this earth like this?" Crying on a dear friend's "cyber" shoulders, I sent her an instant message saying, "Why, oh, why, couldn't we have all died suddenly with Matt???" I just want to leave. Why are days like this so difficult? Why does God seem so far away? Why is He silent? Why is everything so hard? Why are even the simple, mundane tasks of daily life, things like menu planning, grocery shopping, and laundry just too much, too exhausting, and too overwhelming? Why does everything take SO much energy?
I laid on my bed and, though crying, couldn't make a sound. Silent tears falling, throat aching, eyes puffy, swelling shut, and my body jerking from sobs, I gave up. I gave up trying to understand and I gave up trying to fight the stupid wave. I thought back to July 29th, to standing in the hallway at St. Mary's and reminded myself of the words that came unbidden out of my mouth as I sank to the floor, my peripheral vision growing dark as the blackness rushed in before I fainted. "Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him." "Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him." "Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him."
God, help me to continue to trust You in the days ahead. Give me Your strength. Help me to rely on You and not on my own understanding. May I keep eternity in sight. May I stay my eyes on You, Lord. (Is. 26:3 "Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee: because he trusteth in thee.")