And A Time To Heal

Last night's post was short and sweet gloomy, huh? I am definitely in a funk. Heck, we can just call it depressed. It's all catching up with me.

I decided last week that there is just no way we are all doing "okay". It seemed like it on the surface, mostly. But I knew there just HAS to be something awful brewing in one or more of us. So I decided we should see a counselor. Not the "dig way down deep and draw out repressed memories" kind of counseling, just a check-up sort of thing. I contacted our hospice. They have grief counseling available to all clients' families for an extended period of time. First, I took the kids in. We sat with the counselor for a while just talking and sharing a few thoughts and memories. I had talked with her on the phone beforehand as well. In a nutshell, I have three kids who are all dealing with their losses in very different ways. Very different healthy, appropriate and "normal" ways. As long as I don't have any specific or immediate concerns, they are deemed "sane" for now. Just kidding! It doesn't really work that way. And they are a little crazy, I know that better than anyone!

Pat and I are not quite as sane. He needs to be strong for me, I need to be strong for him. We need to be strong for the kids. We needed to be strong for the last year. Strong, strong, strong. Keep going. Afer a while, you get tired. We're just tired, that's all. We are still the same good people we have always been, we're just really....tired. I talked with a grief counselor yesterday myself. She asked "what's up?". Five minutes and a few tissues later, she had the synopsis of the last year and a half of our lives. That felt pretty good! We both agreed I need to spend some time (chuckle) letting myself feel everything I have been carrying around like dead weight. Do things for myself. Spend time just being and feeling. YUCK! Who wants to do THAT?! Wallow in my misery and heartbreak? Sit and focus on my fears? Yep. That's the deal. Over it, around it, through it, whatever mode of travel I choose to the other side of it, I need to just move. Which will require sitting still. Well, irony still beats ironing any day.

HEAL:
1 a : to make sound or whole b : to restore to health
2 a : to cause (an undesirable condition) to be overcome : mend b : to patch up (a breach or division)
3 : to restore to original purity or integrity
intransitive verb
: to return to a sound state

In reading the definition for the word time, I found over fourteen translations and meanings. None of us ever seem to have enough time to do what we want to do, what we need to do, what we think we need to do...so I was particularly drawn to this translation of the word time.

3 a : an appointed, fixed, or customary moment or hour for something to happen, begin, or end b : an opportune or suitable moment —often used in the phrase about time

Appointed. But by whom? Do I own my time, or does it own me? Does it really have the power to tell me what I am going to do with it? No. The power is mine. The time is mine. I get to choose. If I need time to heal, it is given to me. And I'm taking it.

God has given me everything I need, all along. When I needed to be strong, He gave me strength. When I needed to be weak, He carried me. When I needed help, He provided loving friends and family to help. When I needed to be still, He provided a succession of illnesses and ailments. Yes, that's right. He provided a clear and loud reason for me to stop and be still. A chronic illness. A back injury. The flu. It has been one thing after another lately. All the things I have needed to hear the message. Slow down. Be still. Feel. Hurt. Cry. "It will get better. You will get better. You will heal. You just need to take the time".