Sometimes I just need my heart to feel real, so I write a message to God and share it with the dear ones who walk beside me.
It seems I have been breathing grief in and out. It doesn’t seem very life giving just now. Each day, the same routine, but each day differs in its intensity. I am thankful for those who have listened to my heart, even when I seem a bit irrational or crazy. Tonight I took a deep breath of my grief and it seemed to stop life (my heart beat).
It is a strange thing this breathing in grief. I was looking at all these many months. It seems like a thousand years and a few moments are one in the same. This ragged breathing in of grief, creates a strange emotion that comes over me. It causes me to become deaf, blind and without a voice.
All is pitch dark, like someone turned out the lights. And I grope my way through these days, hands outstretched and feet cautiously baby stepping. Then there is silence. It muffles the screams inside me, suffocating the breath from me. This silence is so thick it is like I am under water with a crushing weight upon my chest. And my voice is simply gone, I cannot even ask for help. The breathing out of grief is all that escapes my lips. Sad, silent sighs, as I breathe in another breath of grief. And it all starts over again.
Grief breaths are vital to life. Often there is not a moment I do not think of the sea all around me, with its unpredictable waves or the difficult mountains to climb. Though blind, my minds eye, recalls the joy in the memories. Though deaf, I can have faith that I will one day hear my beloved one singing in my ears. And lastly, though with out a voice, I can still think.
So… I am leaning, I am accepting the beauty of transformation, even in the pain. And I know, someday I will see His glory, hear his trumpet and sing with joy. Breathing in the grief, accepting it is a part of me, and will making me more like him.