This has been a rough week on so very many levels. There was an issue that came up involving my family that angered me and tempted me to think that that is the family that defines me. There has also been a struggle with disbelief that my life is really going forward without enjoying watching my son move forward, living a full life. I have reverted to old habits to try to manage the recurring anxiety and I have made some significant decisions. Add to that, I donated a haul of stuff to a fundraising sale at Camp Charis, but that “stuff” came out of some painful time spent coming across and going through things that were all about Christopher. “Stuff” continues to be a source great pain.
Last Sunday, I actually attended church for the third week in row. This is a new record, probably since Christopher died. I had stayed in bed until the last possible minute, really not wanting to go. Then I couldn’t find my car key! I looked and looked all the time, reminding God that He was pushing it, because I didn’t want to go as it was. Funny thing is that after I continued to look, I realized (and was “forced” to admit) that apparently I did want to go to church. That was a turning point.
Because of this revelation that I really did long to enjoy fellowship with my God, I took the risk of meeting with a friend on Tuesday. She and I talked about the disbelief and I wanted to understand where disbelief slips into unbelief (i.e., sin). Ruth is such an encouragement as she reminds me of the pain that Jesus felt, reassuring me that she didn’t see this as an issue of faith as much as an issue of grief.