Tuesday, November 11, 2008


My seven-year-old told me he thinks he has a cavity in his ear because it hurts when he pushes on it.

I think I have a cavity in my heart. It still hurts. The ache doesn't go away, though sometimes it goes missing for a few hours.

Today I furiously worked at getting the house back in order after a long weekend with hubby and children home.

After several hours of vacuuming and sorting loads of laundry, the dull ache became a loud roar and I realized that trying to create order around me was my method of coping . . . and avoiding.

There is no getting around grief. It must be gone through. Sometimes I putter around, and try to ignore it.

The result is, with no outlet, the pressure inside builds.

I see this operating in my children. They go to school, come home and do homework and play . . . and fight. And the fighting is more intense, less reasonable (if you can consider fighting over the PlayStation reasonable).

I think we all struggle with areas of pain that we either face head on or spend immense amounts of energy avoiding.

Kind of like that tooth that we worry and fuss over, but refuse to see the dentist about. The day-to-day dull ache seems less painful than an intense one hour visit.

So we limp along, not fully functioning, but not completely incapacitated. Not who we were designed to be.

The best way to face something we dread is with a friend. Reaching out when we are down puts us in a vulnerable position, but healing comes more quickly through the kindness of a friend.

Sometimes we don't know anyone who can be that safe for us. There is one Friend whose arms are always safe and loving, and who aches to wipe our tears.

I've found much comfort leaning into the refuge that is Jesus.


  1. I know we wonder after a time if we've surpassed our grieving time and now we need to suck it up, tough it out, be strong, even "get over it". It's much too soon for you to feel any of those things. At least you're examining your thoughts and ways, your children's motivations for their actions--it's all a learning thing, a journey sometimes so difficult to make we think we can't put one foot in front of the other. Thank God, our Friend will carry us when our strength won't.
    Insightful post. You're doing "fine".

  2. I appreciate you saying that, since at times I'm caught by surprise at the intensity of the grief, after I thought I was "doing okay." And then I get impatient to be through it. It's so draining and I get caught in a mind / heart struggle. My mind knows the facts (he's gone and won't be coming back) and yet my heart keeps tripping up (I miss him immensely). Thanks for sharing.