|This picture, this joy, these boys...sometimes the joy and pain |
of being a mother is overwhelming.
Why do Mondays seem like the sh*ts. Yes, I just said that but I put a little asterick so maybe that makes it ok? Focus is difficult, hope is blah, strength is missing, I really hate Mondays. My son died on a Monday. Mondays are difficult for a million reasons. I counted time based on Mondays for so long that I think Mondays became ingrained in my sorrow.
There are no easy answers here, in this weird place. This place where grief is no longer expected from the outside world, but inside my heart it was just yesterday.
This is the marathon. It is a sprint to survive. This is the marathon to thrive with the grief. To drag joy into the grief, to choose hope instead of hopelessness. This is the exchanging that has to happen daily....taking off the grave clothes and resurrecting joy. It seems I can do it every other day of the week, but Mondays sometimes just drag me down. I can't get into the swing of things and yet I am obsessed with getting on the ball, starting the week well. That starts a cycle of condemnation, an old tape runs through my mind quietly whispering "What is wrong with you?" I want Monday to be a place of victory and strength and yet it is often a vulnerable, scary day where I visit the old instead of live in the new.
I stand at the tomb and cry out, "DEBBIE come out!" No one answers.
Unlike Lazarus, I can't seem to find my way out of the tomb. I lay bound up in the guilt, the questions and the regrets. Doubt and confusion ebb and flow through my work day.
Let's be honest don't we all have these kinds of "weakdays" sometimes instead of "weekdays"?
In my mind I know all the answers, in my heart I know what I should do. Doing it, well on Mondays that seems extra hard. The grave clothes seem to cover me and it's hard to see my true identity. Isn't that what Satan always wants to give us, an identity crisis?
Monday becomes a weak day, not just a weekday. It's supposed to be a beginning day for me, but if I am not careful and don't govern myself well it becomes a weak day. I am too weak to stay focused, to weary to hear His voice and I am suceptible to Satans whispers. Monday becomes condemnation day instead of a Holy day. Ratz, why did I let this happen again (I know better)?
So I preach the gospel to myself and I keep reminding myself this is not a sprint, it's a marathon. Just like in a marathon, I sometimes hit the wall. Today I choose to run my guts out, even though nothing in me feels like I can make it past the next mile marker. I know from experience, I can and I will. I have muscle memory with Jesus, I know how to keep moving forward.
I don't know who I will be when I cross the finish line but this I know......I will cross it, even if I have to crawl across it. Maybe I will choose to dance across it with a new song in my heart.
So here's to all my friends who have "weakdays" sometimes instead of "weekdays". Friends, who share their struggles and remind me that tomorrow is another day and joy comes in the morning!