I so want this process to end. I am willing to run from it, but it appears that I can’t hide from it so what is the use. It is an odd process in that I am constantly amazed on how hard it is to accept what has happened. I still look at pictures of Christopher and can’t believe that he is gone from this world.
And the ache has been more intense this week than it has been for months. I never imagined a couple of months ago that it could get harder or hurt more, but I was wrong. I just so want a break from having to deal with it, but there is no where to go to escape. I’ve tried some old standbys, but they haven’t worked. Part of me doesn’t want them to work because I know that I can’t run away from this; it will always be there whenever I decide to face it. It is kind of like work after a long weekend; everything is still there waiting for me to deal with it.
I think that the hardest thing is the alone-ness. It isn’t exactly loneliness, but it is being alone in my grief. There is nobody who knows what I’ve lost in Christopher; we had a one-of-a-kind relationship. I don’t like (and never have liked) the feeling of being alone in my emotion; I am a talker and need to let it out.
I’ve cried more this week than I have for months. I guess that is letting the emotion out before God. He knows what I’ve lost; He understands. I just need to believe that He is enough. The hole left seems to big, too deep, for even Him. I guess the reality is that it is bigger than what my faith feels like it can handle, but it isn’t bigger than what my God can handle. Somehow, it seems that He wants me to want Him to fill it; it doesn’t seem like He is going to just barge in.
I want to want Him, but I am afraid. It seems like if He is going to work, it means that the pain will go away and I haven’t found that to be the case. I so want relief. I confess that I want relief more than I want God.
Herein lies the problem.