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Blog Introduction

This blog is the story of how my husband and I faced the illness and death of two of our children. Each blog post is essentially a chapter in the story, so in order to truly understand it, you are going to benefit by starting at the beginning.
I hope you find our story touching, and in some way find comfort and hope through it as you face your own storms in life.

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

The Scales Begin to Tip

Counseling continued.  Some sessions were less confrontational than others; some left me utterly exhausted.  Emotional work is more tiring than physical work, and leaves you more drained than imagined possible.

The main points had become clear; I had unresolved grief over the death of my children complete with suppressed memories and emotions.  I needed to grieve that which was lost.  I also had serious trust issues with God.  I felt He had abandoned me during my greatest need.  I had always been the "good little girl" who deserved her loving heavenly Father's protection, love, and a "good" life, but my perception of God had twisted during those days of loss.  I felt rejected by Him.  I remember sobbing over and over during times of intense prayer in counseling, "What did I do wrong?”, my tears and snot running everywhere. "What did I do wrong? All I ever wanted to do was please You.  Even growing up all I ever wanted was to do what You wanted."  My cries poured out in mournful rivers of tears.  I felt like I had somehow failed God. Somehow I had messed up and therefore deserved the pain I now felt- somehow I deserved the deaths of my children.  Rejection, fear of future pain, grief, and trust issues.  All needed to be addressed; all need resolution in order for me to truly live again.  

The grief would require going back to the scenes where the traumas occurred; re-visiting them, but this time looking for Jesus. I needed to see Him standing in the room with us as we watched our little ones leave their mortal bodies; watching to see Him cry tears with us as we said good-bye. Healing my grief would require my coming to peace with God, and peace with my kids' deaths.  It didn't mean liking it, or thinking it was okay that they had died, but more of an acceptance and putting to rest the battle for them which no longer needed to be fought.  It would mean relinquishing my control over them.  It would mean releasing them from my grasp, the one which held them tightly inside of me.  It would mean letting go.

Rebuilding trust meant I had to take risks again.  I slowly had to begin inching my way back to God, gradually turning my face toward Him instead of away from Him.  I needed to have my broken foundations rebuilt.  The bridge between me and God had been completely destroyed in an enemy attack. The embankments on each side were still in place, but the bridge spanning the breech between us needed to be completely restored. Footings were slowly being put in place, but even as it takes time in the natural to erect a structure spanning a huge chasm, so it would take time to build my bridge of trust.

Rejection needed a heavy dose of God's pure love and truth.  I needed to be wrapped into the loving arms of my heavenly Father; sobbing, hurting and angry mess that I was. I needed to be held until the waves of His pure love soaked through my hardened, stony exterior.
God specifically addressed the rejection issue one day in prayer. This is what I believe He said to me.
"You have doubted my goodness for years.  The root of it came in with Sarah's death- My failure to heal her in your eyes.  You took on rejection of My love, and doubted my intentions for you.  You began to doubt My character, and took on the lies of Satan that say I'm not who I say I am, and that I will not protect you or provide for you.  You began to doubt my love for you.  These things have grown over the years and were reinforced when Matthew died.  You do not understand My way, and therefore you became angry because I failed to meet your standards. What you need to know is that I am unchanging. I am love, and I have never forsaken you. I was with you, I am with you, and will continue to be with you.  The negative must flee; but you must resist it, and be retrained in your mind.  Accept and believe in My love and goodness toward you. I am with you, and on your side."
Some may doubt that this was God's word to me.  It doesn't matter.  It spoke volumes to me, and brought me one step closer to my Father.

Fear needed to be put down.  It would need to go first because as long I was afraid of God, I would never approach Him to receive the healing of the other three issues. As long as fear ruled my life, I would never go to God to climb in His lap to heal my rejection, I would never turn toward Him to rebuild trust, and I would ultimately never get over my grief.  Confronting fear was the one thing I had to do myself.  I had to be the one to make it happen by taking just one step towards God. The scales needed to tip in my favor.  One side of the scale held all the feelings of grief and depression, along with the menacing thoughts of never being free from it. The other side of the scale held all the fears I had about being healed; the unknown the future would bring, the fear associated with it, as well as the fear of who I would be.  I didn't know what my identity would be if I no longer carried the grief.

For years the scales had been tipped in the favor of remaining unchanged and bound to the fear of an unknown future, but things were happening. The scales were beginning to shift.  I didn't want to stay locked in my cave forever.  I was tired of it and wanted out, so I edged closer to the opening. With each inch I crept closer to the Light, the scales continued to tip.

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