It was one of those mornings. A morning where, before I had even opened my eyes, I knew grief had crept in under the covers and sidled up next to me during the night while I had slept. I woke heavy-hearted, the sky unlit by morning light, though the clock professed it was, indeed, daytime.
Strike one: a fitful night's sleep. Strike two: a gray, cloudy day. And strike three: my aching heart. I took a deep breath and got up. After three and a half years of grief, days like these are all too familiar. Thankfully, however, they are also now fewer and farther between and don't last nearly as long.
I've since learned how to fight back against the sorrow. I determined, though aching, to give thanks. I began to list things I was thankful for. I thanked God that He is unchanging. I thanked Him for His promises. I thanked Him that this world is not all there is. I thanked Him for the "God-nods" He's given me.
Indeed, as I finished getting ready for the day the song "Stronger" by Mandisa came on. A God-nod. I didn't feel strong, but God was reminding me that He saw my pain, and that He knew I felt anything but strong. The song finished, only to be followed by yet another grief favorite. I knew then that I would make it through the day o.k. It would be tough, but I had God's strength to get me through.
I made it through the day, stumbled a bit, but found my footing. Driving home, one last song hit me. It was Matt Redman's song, "Lord, You Never Let Go." Why I had to hear that particular song on the way home, I don't know. It's a painful song for us. Crying, I told my husband, "I wonder if I'll ever be able to listen to this song ever again without also thinking of my son's funeral." It sucks. It really sucks. Yet, there is truth. Comforting truth. God has never once let go of me. He knows. He will never let go.