Life in the Gray

There is a strange realization once you are introduced to grief that exposes how much of life is not black and white. Sometimes I find joy in the memories of Aurelia, other times tears. The holidays have become a beautiful and joyful time to remember Christ’s birth with sorrow woven into traditions that we can never experience as a whole family. Lately, we’ve been so excited to meet the newest addition to our family and yet I often find myself teary eyed in the thought that we will not get to introduce him/her to an older sister.

I am learning to be comfortable with the idea that two things can be true at one time. Joy and sorrow can coexist. Happy events can contain tears. Sadness can involve laughter.

Grief is not a singular feeling. It is a part of life that encompasses who we are simply because we live in a fallen world.

During the last few weeks I have struggled with this. I have the habit of trying to push away the sad feelings where I feel they don’t belong. It doesn’t take long for the unprocessed grief to take over, my sleep to fall away, and anxieties to occupy my mind. Over the course of these days I have been reminded by the people close to my circle that grief will always have its place in the threads of my life—and there is nothing wrong with that.

Two things can be true.

Bringing new life into the world is one of the greatest joys of my life and the grief of a child in Heaven is still just as devastating as it was the day she left us.

I have found myself asking the Lord to bring me peace in the midst of the “gray" parts of life where I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

When Aurelia died, we spent many of the following weeks surrounded by family. There has never been a season in my life that contained so many tears, and yet, the Lord often provided so many moments throughout the day to laugh. I don’t take those moments for granted because in a desolate time, it was what we needed to make it through the day.

I am beginning to see in the transitions of life—even the good ones—that I still need to recognize the range of emotions, the unprocessed feelings and circumstances, and the fears and joyful anticipations. All of this requires me to sit still.

After a summer of home renovations, preparing for the beginning of our homeschool journey with our oldest, and preparing to deliver our new baby I find myself coming back to Psalm 46:10.

“Be still and know I am God; I will be exalted…”

No matter our circumstances, the Lord has victory. Despite our tapestries of life, woven together with the threads of joy and sorrow—God will be exalted.

God is big enough to handle the overwhelming feelings that seem to overtake our hearts. All we must do is have a willing heart to trust and fix our eyes on our Creator.

Psalm 51:12, “Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me.”