Those of you who have followed my blog long-term know of an event I wrote about when I hit the 2 year mark. (Spark of Life Retreat 'Living Forward' #4) If you haven't read along, let me summarize. The day of Max's death, I was told by a couple of different people very close to me that I couldn't blame Max for what happened, I couldn't be mad at him, accidents happen all the time. I don't think anyone consciously "SAID" those words to me, but in my grief, that is what I "HEARD". So any time I felt mad at him or blamed him for making the naive choice of driving while he was sleepy, I stuffed those feelings down, feeling like a bad mom for even thinking about it, rather than expressing them and letting them free. At the 2 year mark, I attended a retreat called "Spark of Life", which is a 3-day "boot camp" for grief. And one of the exercises we did, I realized I was FURIOUS at Max. Not just mad, but because of 2 years of stuffing that anger down, I was furious. And that exercise allowed me to confront and release that anger for the first time in my grieving process. It was HUGE. I felt like I left a millstone at the bottom of the lake in Texas where I yelled at Max as I told him how angry I was. And I wasn't a bad mom for being angry with him. Here is the pond and the smile I had on my face after the relief I felt there:
Now, the reason I am writing this specific blog (finally). Around six weeks after Max died, I had a discussion with a very close pastor friend in which I "heard" that writing my grief out on facebook for the world to see wasn't healthy or good for other Christians and that I should consider a blog instead. Some things were said at that meeting I realized recently that I still held against him in my heart (4 years later!) I could rationalize it in my brain: maybe it was me and my distorted view of life at that time, or I could see that he was doing the best he could to deal with the depth of our pain, and I could extend him grace, but I couldn't let go of it in my heart. Remember - in my mind, I had no voice - I didn't realize I could/should/needed to speak up for myself against what I 'heard'. (This is NOT about blame! He & I have completely cleared the air and continue to be friends - I just wish I hadn't waited 4 years to do it.)
It wasn't until my therapist pointed out this had happened to me before, when the SHTF in 2003 (LONG story), that I realized I had been stuffing down all those feelings of what I "heard" was "acceptable as a Christian". I had a major falling out with a pastor in 2003 when I was told that I wasn't allowed to use my voice, and I had to reign back in my feelings "for the good of the kingdom". That phrase also was said to me in 2010 when Max died. Again, I am not sure these exact words were 'SAID' to me, but it's what I 'HEARD'. Both of these times, I heard it from "an authority" in the church - the pastor - and being a 'rule-follower', I internalized what they were saying to me. (My way of dealing with those events - I left the church that each pastor was leading - both times. It didn't matter to me how many people said to me that I could give God my pain, that isn't what I believed down deep in my soul.)
This explains SO MUCH to me. Why I feel the need to be so obnoxiously VOCAL where it comes to grief. Why I feel the need to defend 'early grievers' from the things people say to them. More importantly, why I have been unable to find a church here in Wichita that meets my needs. We lived in Virginia for 2 years and found the most amazing church and connected deeply with the people there. We've been back in Wichita since 2000, and haven't truly connected with a church since 2003 when the SHTF. That is ELEVEN years of not having a church. (Thank God He gave me the babechicks and breadheads from Emmaus during this time so I had a community of believers to belong to. I also think this is why I am so fiercely ridiculously inappropriately protective of those groups, even though they naturally change with time). Down in my soul, unconsciously, I was wrestling with the fact that I didn't think I was allowed to have a voice with my hurt and anger. God didn't want to hear it or He couldn't handle it. Other Christians shouldn't have to hear it. So I stuffed it down since 2003 and then a shot of reinforcement at my most vulnerable time (2010) showed me I should never go to God or other Christians with my true voice.
I was discussing the 2010 incident with my therapist this week, who was also with me back in 2003, and she threw out that these 2 events might be connected together in some way. And it wasn't until a few days ago, working my body *physically*, that my brain dropped all the puzzle pieces together and saw those 2 events WERE connected together, and that I didn't have to accept what I 'heard'. I *am* allowed to go to God with my true voice. I can tell him I am hurt and I am angry and I'm NOT hurting the kingdom by doing so. I think God honors honest wrestling with Him as a growing process. I've certainly told God how I feel many times since Max died. But I always had that inner voice telling me I wasn't a 'good Christian' for doing so. Guess what? SHOUT IT FROM THE MOUNTAIN TOPS: I am allowed to tell God I am hurt and angry and I'm not hurting the kingdom by doing so !! I'm not sure this blog can even convey how extraordinary this is for me. Hebrews 4:16: "Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need." FREEDOM. (I know many of you must be thinking "well, she's already been plenty vocal, now that she has the freedom to use her voice, we'll never get her to shut up"!)
Thanks to the *many* of you who have hung with me through this process of letting go of my oldest son to death. This is just one step in the process, I'm sure there will be more. Your encouragement and love has meant everything to me. And thanks to my friend/pastor for telling me today what he intended me to 'hear' back in 2010. I feel more peace in my soul now than I have for 11 years. And I *will* find a church and become active again. True freedom.
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