I remember writing a post shortly after we got married, wondering if “one month” is exactly four weeks from the day something occurred, or if it’s the same date, one month later. I still don’t have an answer, but what I do know is that I for sure never thought I’d have to say “today is one month since you’ve been gone”.
And yet, here we are.
By the time I actually publish this post on the blog, I’ll be saying “today is over three months since you’ve been gone”. Three full months. One quarter of a year. And these words and feelings are exactly the same, only cutting far deeper than I could have ever imagined.
I wish I could say that today, that this whole “post loss” season, feels heavy, but it’s much worse than that. I actually prefer the heaviness, to be honest. Even though we tend to shy away from weighty things, heaviness doesn’t always imply “burdensome”.
Heaviness isn’t always another way to describe “difficult”, “dark”, or “depressing”.
Most importantly, heaviness is NOT always synonymous with “hopeless”.
Instead, heaviness can mean that there is still something to carry, still something to fight for, still a forward movement and a hope that one day the load will be relieved.
Endless hours of phone calls and visits with doctors, specialists, and medical staff was heavy, but it meant that there were still options to be considered.
Five months of being in a hospital day in and day out was heavy, but it meant that God had granted me provision and I was able to bypass the very strict COVID policies to be with and fully advocate for my husband.
Watching countless medical procedures because Sam wanted me there, even though I have zero stomach for these things, was heavy, but it demonstrated to me first-hand the truth that God will develop in me the strength needed to rise up and face the challenge to which He called me.
Our entire world and marriage being turned upside down to accommodate the treatment for this horrible cancer diagnosis was heavy, but it meant we had found and experienced in each other a love worth sacrificing and giving up everything for.
This post is a little darker than my normal vibe. But the reality of faith is that sometimes trusting God is a little darker than we’d like it to be. I’m thankful that I was able to see the value of heaviness in the midst of all the hell, but just in case you need a reminder, here it is.
If life is heavy, if you’re carrying a weight much greater than seems possible to bear, remember that just because something is heavy, doesn’t mean it’s a burden. Heaviness can mean hope.
What I wouldn’t give for another day to feel the heaviness.
Conversations with Myself 