Day 10

July 10th Bereaved Parents Awareness Month.

I didn’t think I had very much to say today, day 10 of bereaved parents awareness month.

I’m all about being authentic so here it is.

I’ve had a very heavy heart the last two days and just getting out of bed feels like a major accomplishment!

I did what I know to do and that is to put on the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.

When I woke up today, I sat on my front porch and listened to worship music.

I was trying to be thankful and grateful and listen to the birds and my music. I know that obedience isn’t a feeling and I certainly didn’t have any feelings other than sadness and sorrow.

I am pretty certain that when Jesus humbled himself and obediently was hanging on the cross and dying an agonizing death for us, his feelings were not happy or joyful but of heart ache.

Here is an excerpt from Confessions of a Funeral Director.

We read in John’s gospel (John 19:34) that “one of the soldiers pierced His side with a spear, and immediately there came out blood and water.” C. Truman Davis writes concerning the medical significance of the blood and water, “We, therefore, have rather conclusive post-mortem evidence that Our Lord died, not the usual crucifixion death by suffocation, but of heart failure…” (8).  Heart failure that began to develop in the garden when Jesus was sweating blood, continued to build when he was rejected by many of his disciples and came to utter fruition when his people nailed him to a cross.

Let me suggest that Jesus died from stress-induced cardiomyopathy as a result of the rejection and grief he experienced as he walked the world.

I certainly cannot fathom all the aspects of what Jesus went through for me.

It makes my heartache pale in comparison. I ache for my son.

Jesus ached for every single human being that has ever or will ever live on this earth.

It puts my heartache in perspective but none the less it is still there.

I have emotional and physical signs to prove it.

I don’t embrace the heartache but I don’t resist it either.

I allow the tears to flow when they need to flow.

I eat the saltines and sip the real ginger ale when I can’t eat anything else because my stomach is too upset.

I find some space if I need to be alone and I lay down if I just can’t keep going.

I know that tomorrow or the next will be a better day.

That’s how grief works for me so far.

I’ve only been on this journey for 17 months, 1 week, and 6 days.

I can’t allow myself to think too far ahead. I only have to get through today.

I can’t remember the exact date that my maternal grandfather died. I know it was July and I was 10 years old.

I think it might have been July 10th. Maybe that’s why my heart aches today. My mind might not remember the date but my heart probably does.

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