My beliefs are what have given me steam my whole life. I am motivated by meaning, by purpose, and that has always been tied to my world view and my faith.
I don't think I am going off the reservation completely... at least not for today. But people who have known me for many years and think they know what I believe would probably be shocked at the paths that my views have taken ever since my daughter died.
It all started when she was in the hospital for the seven weeks of her life. Most parents will describe how things changed completely when they welcomed their first child. A massive transformation in perspective takes place. That's when the first shift occurred. Things I once thought were of paramount importance in life paled in comparison. Those things may as well have fallen off the face of the earth. Having a child changes everything.
It is a feeling that has to be experienced in order to be understood.
The second shift occurred when we realized we were losing her. As much as our world had changed when our baby arrived, it changed even more drastically as she faded from this life. The best way I can think of to describe this to parents who have not lost a child is that this shift in perspective is just as dramatic as when a child joins a family in the first place... maybe even more so.
Ever since she died, I have been floundering, especially where my beliefs are concerned. I feel like a fish out of water most of the time, flopping around, desperately trying to get to a place of safety where I can breath again. Yet I am running out of steam and resources trying to find that place back in safe waters, because...well... a fish out of water cannot breathe.
This has been a difficult topic for me to share about, because I feel very exposed when people know the struggle I've been having. I wrote and re-wrote this blog post, trying to figure out how to express what this feels like. My hope is that by sharing these feelings, though, all of you out there who are going through a similar experience will find comfort in knowing that you are not floundering alone, that you are not losing your mind.
Grief does this to a person, and my solution for now is to not take myself too seriously, and to allow myself to keep looking ahead.
4 comments:
Mandy,
Thanks so much from sharing from your heart and the reality of the experience you are in. I admire your courage and am proud to have you as my sister. It is my hope that those of us who are reading this can provide a safe place for your experience to be expressed - for your sake and for those who are reading this and walking through similar pain.
Yes. Give yourself all the space you need to figure this out. I recently heard someone say that losing a child is like becoming an amputee. You are never the same but you learn how to survive and cope without the "limb" you lost. That takes a lot of time and requires a shift of focus and adjustments to everything in your life. Eventually you settle into a new way of living and your perspective is different because there is no way for it to stay the same. Keep asking all the questions you need to and I will be praying for you as always!
Thank you Mandy for being open and sharing your inner most thought. I don't know the loss you've endured, but I do know that God has continued to hold you and Luke and that He will continue to Love you. I understand that He has shaken everything that can be shaken and that He uses all things for you Good. I am very sure that the destiny the Lord has for you and Luke is awesome and the enemy will try to pull you down and away from the Lords calling. I am also very sure that Liza Jane is within the great cloud of witnesses watching over you both.
All my love Beloved.
Marge
Thank you all for your kind notes. Your love, thoughts and prayers mean so much. Betsy - that is such a good analogy for what it is like to lose a child. Thank you for sharing!
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