Abba,
It’s been over a year since my parent’s passing. Almost a year and a half for my father. And some days it still feels like yesterday. I know that this was amplified recently by having to put Dakota down. Making that decision to do so continues to linger with me. I can only imagine…if it is this hard for a dog…how much more so would it have been had I ever had to make that decision for either of my parents. I am so thankful I was spared from having to do so. But having to put Dakota down just before Christmas has reopened wounds I thought were healing and now they feel more raw than ever. I severely underestimated how hard it was going to be…
And…suddenly today, loneliness and isolation feels like a thing, terrible and dark. Not all the time, but I get these waves, these patches of it that hit and a sudden sadness that seems to settle on me.
Abba, what is this? Why is this happening today?
They don’t tell you that the death of loved ones, no matter how much eternal hope we have, forever changes you. And the false pretense of life moving on and “normalcy” returning builds the illusion that things return to what they once were. They don’t. They can’t. Until you are here, it is impossible to see this, to know this, to understand this. But I feel it. Some days it is barely noticeable. Other days, it is like a grey cloud hanging suspended over my head. Still others, the cloud is dark, the wind is whipping, and the rain is pelting me in the face. Today, it is that sense of something being amiss, something being off, with moments where tears threaten to drop. It is that sense today, that life is not ok, that death has struck, that something is forever altered, even if I can go on and keep moving as if were not so. It is changed. The sense sticks to me like a wet shirt.
Sustain my soul, Abba. Comfort my sorrow. Satisfy my loneliness. Energize my weariness. Establish me to keep placing one foot in front of the other in service until you call me home to my eternal rest with You.
A Singular Passion 