Finding joy in the everyday grief

I've realized something this week.  All the numbness is gone.  The shock and disbelief of losing Amanda is no longer there to help buffer the pain.  At all.  Reality has sunk in to the deepest, innermost part of my being.  This summer, the remembrance of exactly what we were doing at this time last year is more vivid for me than I would like it to be.  Every day.  Last year, we were preparing for her MRI that would give us the results of how the chemo treatment plan worked and we were swimming almost daily:

June 26, 2014
"I am trying to keep the MRI in it's proper place as Monday gets closer.  I'm trying not to allow myself to get anxious, but instead stay focused on how well Amanda is clinically doing and anticipate a great report.  We can't do anything about the MRI, one way or another.  What we can do is pray.   In my head I know all the right answers and all the right ways to handle the stress and emotions.  But seriously, sometimes the truth of what we are facing and dealing with simply crashes over me and feels so big." 

Two years ago, in 2013, we were preparing to start chemo cycle two, attending revival each night at Lawler and overall, trying to get the right medication combination to keep her from getting so ill during her week of chemo meds. 

Never would I have thought that I would give anything to be back in those challenging days, but I find myself yearning for those drives to Dell, hours in the infusion room, cuddles in bed when she didn't feel good, schedules made around doctor appointments and medications and spending each and every day soaking up our family time.

At Dell, anytime her port was accessed we all had to wear masks.

These were taken in June of 2013.  I adore them.

I've been thinking about how up and down life has been as we have maneuvered the past ten months. I'm not sure that it is very different from those seventeen months we were fighting cancer every day.  

Despite the extremely challenging time this summer is, I am incredibly grateful for the ways God brings light and laughter in my life.  The emotional roller coaster of smiles, laughter, memories, tears, panic and back to smiles is exhausting, but please know this - God still gives me joy. 

I get up each day and pray that it will be a good day.  I love to laugh. I love to smile; even with the hurt and pain so quick to surface through tears that I no longer try to stop.  I'm incredibly blessed with amazing family and friends that continue to walk right beside me in the deep pits of grief and along the hills of joy and peace.

One of the craziest challenges is the fact that I feel like I am still daily trying to figure out who the "new" me is: mother, wife, friend, daughter, sister.   Those roles were there before Amanda's diagnosis, yet it seems almost like I have become a different person through the time of her illness and death.  It is at times a fumbling, awkward, hurtful, and exhausting task.  I have changed.  How could I not? But God is good and His plans are perfect.  Knowing He works all things for good reminds me to try to give myself grace instead of  beating myself up if I don't seem to get things right.

My God has not changed.  He is the same today as He was yesterday and as He will be tomorrow.  That brings comfort.  That brings stability.  That brings hope.  That is how I am able to get up each day, doing my best at forgetting the pain and mistakes from the day before and facing the new day with a fresh outlook; and each day I am thankful for all that I am blessed with.

Life is messy. And hard. And painful. And joyful. And fulfilling.  But we are here for a purpose.

2 Corinthians 12:8-10
“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

This week, I opened up Facebook and it had a "memory post" waiting for me.  Five years ago I posted a picture of Amanda and her beautiful face looking up at me beaming with pride over a pulled tooth. As I first saw the picture, completely unexpected and unprepared for it, the absolute shock of seeing her took my breath away and brought on the tears.  It was like a friend commented "Her way of saying, "Hi mom!"  

Feels like I could just reach down and touch that sweet face....

I am incredibly grateful for these small, unexpected ways Amanda shows up in my day.

Now, a Brandon and Annie update!  Brandon and Annie are doing great.  She is incredibly sweet and crazy smart - much to our challenge sometimes.  However, in her short month with us, she has come a long way and is already doing great with obedience training.  Brandon is doing an amazing job taking care of her and training her.  I am so proud of his dedication and patience with a very spunky puppy.  She keeps him on his toes! :) 

Love these guys.  They sent this to me while I was at a recent conference.

James 1:17
Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.