Pain

Will is going back to work next week. He’s concerned about me. He wants me to do something.

I sat at my kitchen table staring out the window unseeing and thought, what now? Nothing that used to seem important matters anymore.

I remember at some point, some time, somewhere hearing someone say that the things you do are not who you are. I used to think of myself as a mixture of the things I did. I was a child of God, a mommy, a wife, a scientist, a strong woman… among other things. Now I realize being Damon’s Mine-ee was at the absolute core of who I was. Who am I now? Lost, adrift, afloat.

No, I don’t fail to see that I am still Mommy to the most amazing 6 year old on the planet nor do I dismiss my covenant relationship with my husband. What about all the other stuff? What really matters?

I barely have the energy to walk through a day and still breathe. My son needs my help tying his shoes or finding his book and he has to ask me three times before I can process what he is saying. Tears flow freely and I can’t bear to look people in the eye.

Move on…move on to what?

I am awash in a feeling of desperate aloneness. Not loneliness but aloneness.

I told Will today, I keep asking God what my job is, what He wants me to do. He wouldn’t have left me here; He wouldn’t have allowed me to endure such suffering if I didn’t have a job to do so let’s have it!! Give me my job, tell me what to do!

“Have you been quiet enough to hear Him speak?” Will asked. My husband knows me well. He knows my relationship with my Creator well
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“No!” I replied as the tears begain to flow, again.

I haven’t been still. I haven’t been quiet. It hurts too much. It’s too terrifying.

God is still speaking, through His word He answers the new questions I pose daily. Today I actually told Him “ok, this is kind of starting to freak me out.” His answers are so directly dead on, it can be a bit unnerving. But I haven’t spent time quietly alone with Him and allowed Him to speak healing into my soul. I’m so afraid to go there with Him. Maybe I’m afraid of what He will show me lurks in my own heart. I’m afraid of the pain. Every moment is pain, barely held at bay, pain.