I have been pondering about writing this post all day. It seems obligatory that I memorialize this particular day in some fashion. So here it goes.....
Time doesn't heal ALL heal all wounds, but then there's Jesus....and guess what?... if anyone can heal the deepest hurts, Jesus is the top choice to choose.
Today, February 11, 2017 makes two years that Bill passed away. I will admit that last year (numero uno) was extremely hard, not just for me but for my boy. Today, I know that I have made some serious progress in the grief department. I didn't bawl my eyes out, I didn't stay in bed with the covers over my head, I didn't check out of reality, no one caught me ranting and raving, and I didn't shake my fist at God swearing Him out of my life indefinitely.
Recently, an epiphany occurred to me. It was after I watched a Tyler Perry "Madea" video snippet on YouTube. She -errr 'he'- talked about how people come into your life for a season. Insert the angels singing "hallelujah"....in my own head, of course. It helped me to think about how being married to Bill was a season in my life. Our life together didn't turn out like I wanted or expected, but it's not up to me to determine the season. That's God job to do. I realized that the 'us' was a season. Isn't that like an "Ahh-Haa" moment if I ever did have one? Ha!
So, admittedly I only teared up less than a bushel of times, most of which were attributed to snuggling with G$ this morning in my bed, scrolling through Instagram and noticing that he posted a picture of his dad with a sweet comment, and coming across some photos of days gone by. Maybe it's a bad idea to reminisce and maybe it's okay, either way, the only intention I carry is for Grant to remember that his dad was pretty awesome, especially when he became a father. I don't want to dwell on the circumstances of the death or why it all could't work out for the best. My only desire is for him to know that his dad really did love him....and even in present tense, loves him.
Time doesn't heal all wounds my friends, but Jesus can. He went to the cross to heal our wounds, and by His stripes we can be set free (that part is a work in progress for me....the freedom part). I can choose to let Jesus take on the grief....every single phase of it and trust that God will heal me, heal my boy and live in the freedom of knowing that everything in our lives is under the hand of God who created it all.
Be blessed my friends.
