The New Normal

Dear God,

This path that you've asked us to walk is difficult. I'm struggling today, God. I'm hurting. The strange part about how I feel is that I can hardly put words to it. I've been trying all week to write down Garren's story, this new part of my story and Jay's story. You know that more than once in my life I've been told I have a tendency to talk too much. Why is it that I can't find words anymore? Why do the words that I know, the language that I speak not capture the depth of longing I have for Garren to be here and the hurt that I feel each day without him? I never want to forget the experience of carrying Garren or the feeling of holding him in my arms. When I try to write down those feelings, I get so lost. Lord, I think I'm learning that having Garren, holding him, being blessed to be his Mommy even for a little while in this life is such a profoundly incredible gift that there truly are no words to decribe its greatness.

Maybe there are no words to use because it shows how deeply wrong death is. I know that you have sorrow over death and weep with us in our sorrow. And at the same time, you comfort us with such love and compassion. I feel your comfort. I feel your peace. Others have suggested to us to keep a list of your faithfulness as we walk in this valley. What a gift that has been! You are faithful and my pain is no measure of that faithfulness!

Lord, you know I chuckled the other night when we read Your Word. I shouldn't be surprised at how perfectly and intimately you know me. You knew I was struggling with the idea of going through trials and the depth of the trial you're asking us to go through. It was as if you sat with us at our dinner table hearing all I was saying to Jay. And then when I was finally quiet after we finished eating, you spoke directly to me through our Charles Stanley daily devotional over James 1:2-4 "Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything." Thank you for that reminder. Thank you for telling me to have an eternal perspective. Thank you for telling me to have joy, only found through Your Spirit. And thank you for allowing me to hurt. You never said trials wouldn't hurt. It's humbling to know that you hurt with me.

This "new normal" is no fun, God. Day-to-day things that I've always done seem the same. And that's the problem. My heart and soul feel so completely different, yet waking up, getting dressed, running errands, just living life appear the same as they always have. Jay has gone back to work, we've gone back to church. I'll soon go back to my weekly Bible Study and go back to work myself. My routine will feel just like it did a year ago. I hate that. I hate thinking that life just goes on. I know I will never forget Garren and I will miss him and ache for him every day for the rest of my life, but I hate that I have to do all these "normal" things in life. I know it will get easier to do these things. Today it's just plain hard.

Lord, please continue to give me your strength, comfort and guidance as we walk this path. Thank you for your grace. Thank you for loving me enough to save me. And thank you for loving me so much that you promise to never leave me. Thank you for loving me so much that you promise your peace, everlasting peace. Thank you for loving Garren and holding him in your arms. As much as, in my humanness, I would rather have him here I know he couldn't be any place better than in your presence. I love you, Lord. Please tell Garren I love him too.

Love,
Andrea