Saturday, February 11, 2012


If I had to sum up how I've been feeling over the past two weeks, it would be "overwhelmed."

It is definitely winter at work even though it has been 75 degrees outside.  I enjoy it, but it means late nights and busy weekends.   As crazy as it can be, I have always handled it pretty well in the past.  After all, it is just a season. Now, in the context of grieving Thomas, some days it just seems to be too much.  Life in general is busy and I find it much more exhausting than ever before.  I haven't been able to get back into a routine or rhythm. 

It has left precious little quiet time just for me.  In the first few weeks after Thomas died, I was afraid to be alone and still.  That was when my mind floated back to images I didn't want to remember, what-if's, and what-now's.  Now I crave that quiet, alone time.  It gives me a chance to remember, grieve, and heal. It gives me a chance to pray and draw closer to Jesus, the source of strength and healing.  I have found that I need that time every day.   My tears are always just under the surface.  If I miss that time they just build up, and I find myself feeling frenzied and overwhelmed.

 I am learning that scheduling my "me time" is more important than most of the household tasks I have hanging over my head.  The ironing pile isn't going anywhere,  the mail pile on the counter can wait, and my husband isn't starving thanks to the generous stash of casseroles in our freezer.

Our grief is still fresh.  Like winter, I know that this is a season too.   I am often reminded how I felt on December 4th.....everything seems just like it was before Thomas, only nothing is the same.   I'm still figuring out my new normal. I don't just crave that quiet time, I need it to restore my soul.  

I love this verse from In the Secret of His Presence by Sandra McCracken, written by Ellen Goreh:

"Only this I know:  I tell Him
All my doubts, my griefs, and fears;
Oh, how patiently He listens!
And my sorrowed soul He cheers."

Here's the whole song:

 "The LORD will guide you continually, giving you water when you are dry and restoring your strength.  You will be like a well-watered garden, like an ever-flowing spring."(Isaiah 58:11 NLT)


  1. Melissa, I am still praying for you. And Is. 58:11 is my favorite verse, and the passage we based our ministry on . . . I will be praying that for you!!

  2. Following you and sending you prayers.


    Dana Putnam Burkhart

    1. Very well said Melissa! I too feel like I'm just keeping my head above water and am searching for the new normal.

  3. I guess there's no way around the grieving process; you just have to plow through and feel each raw emotion. I have a friend who lost her little girl at 3 years old. She said "At first it was so hard, but after a time grief became my friend."
    Sending love to you both,
    Karen Gates

  4. Thinking of you always and always praying. Jena

  5. Melissa,
    I know what it is like to lose a sister, a father and a mother, but not a child. Your stength continues to amaze me. Your faith inspires me. The grieving process takes us through the steps in a way that we can handle them and learn to deal with our loss. Baby steps. There is no easy way. For the rest of our lives we will remember and mourn our loss, the hurt, the pain, the emptiness, but, we will also remember the joy, the love and the time that we got to share with them, albiet too short for you and Thomas, and it is by remembering that we will find comfort. My thoughts and prayers are with you, always.

  6. I was thinking of you and just had to come read some of your words again. As usual, I don't know what to say... I was thinking about the women I know and have known who've lost children, and with the exception of one, they all have one thing in common: they're so incredibly happy that you'd never guess they had suffered such a monumental loss. I know you know intellectually that you'll be there again one day, but I just wanted you to have a second will be happy again. :) Love you! -Ashley