When the ride evens out a bit

Thirteen months on this ride. Because the roller coaster's twists and turns aren't quite as wicked, and the ups and downs aren't as steep at thirteen months, it at least allows you to open your eyes and bravely take a look around. The nauseated feeling in the pit of my stomach is no longer a constant. While I still want off grief's ride, it's not over yet. But at moments when the ride slows, there are times I can open my eyes and catch a view of the things passing by.

I'm noticing beautiful things. Things like the smiles of my other children, the excitement and laughter in their voices, the plans and dreams in their hearts as I listen to them conversing from the back of the van. It's such a different perspective now. The things that used to excite me, just don't anymore. Sure, I still enjoy certain things, but the thrill, their importance, is gone. Grief will prioritize your life. That's for certain. Ask anyone who's experienced a loss and they'll tell you the same thing.

I think what surprises me most is the realization that, while there are things that bring a smile to my face, they fail to penetrate the center of my heart. Yet the joy that exists with other things is deeper, more settled, and does sink into the heart. I don't know how to explain this adequately. It's rather a mystery to me. I don't think I've figured out yet, either, if that's a good thing or a bad thing. I'm guessing it just means I no longer clutch those things because I now know that they're not as important as I once thought they were. Grief has given me discernment into the things that matter and the things that don't. At least I think it has.

Our family continues to heal on this journey through grief. We are merging back into the fast lane of life, but are content to let others pass. We have realized that merging is mandatory. We have to do life, even if we don't feel like it at times, even if we're uncertain, weak, or afraid. The flow of life's traffic is a constant. But I have determined to be content in the carpooling lane, keeping my eyes on my Chauffeur trusting God to do the navigating.