It has been over 2 weeks since I’ve written here. While I could legitimately say that I’ve been really busy trying to keep up with all the work of caring for our family, that would only be partially true. The rest of the story is that I am weary.
Like everyone, our family has many facets to our lives: immediate family, work, school, church, community, extended family, our inner hopes/dreams/beliefs, and more. The loss of our daughter in October triggered huge ripples across every single one of those facets, and in truth her death will continue to ripple for many months to come. But we’ve also been facing significant challenges unrelated to Elli’s death that either remain unresolved or have intensified.
Spiritually, emotionally, mentally…I’ve spent the last 9 years on one of those extreme expeditions across deserts, through jungles, over mountains. Not that I think typical parenting is easy – it’s like running a marathon through an unmapped course.
I guess since Little Boy was diagnosed with heart defects (our second child with a significant heart condition) 2 years ago (in utero), my road has taken me into the toughest terrain I’ve ever seen. I feel like we’re picking our way along a rocky cliff face in pitch dark with a fierce wind whipping around our 150-pound backpacks. Like if we make one wrong move, we’ll go plummeting into an inescapable crevasse. We’ve certainly made plenty of mistakes already, slipping, sliding, cutting up knees and elbows… all of which adds to the difficulty and pain. And after so many months with no let up in sight, I will admit — my knees are buckling.
Usually when I’m wrestling with something, writing helps me sift through it. It has been different lately because recently, people have been behind the bolts of lightning threatening to jolt us off the cliff. I’ve been let down and worse, beaten down, by people who I thought I could trust. The pain of that has been worse than losing Elli. And it’s tough to write about…maybe because it seems more real that way.
To be quite honest, I just want to channel my inner turtle, pull my limbs and head into a sturdy shell, and hide until the storm clears, the lightning throwers find another target, the sun emerges, and the path reappears. Unfortunately, I have a feeling that the only way out of the storm is to move through it. We just have no idea yet which direction forward is.
It often feels lonely and isolated here, but I’ve found many many people out here clinging to this slippery cliff in the pitch-dark storm. Some have reached a little more secure position and they have been generous with encouragement and just the right word for a particularly agonizing moment.
At times, I have seriously considered letting go, throwing myself into a free fall, giving up. It has been so hard for so long that I am spent. Depleted. Dry.
I’ve spent many many hours in prayer these last several months, more than ever before. Most of my day is one long run-on prayer for help, direction, answers to questions that probably have no answer.
That constant prayer is the one thing keeping me clinging to the rock. While I’ve even wondered if a real God is out there at times, He has shown Himself in many amazing ways. He has sent blessings through surprising messengers (perhaps to counter-balance the surprise attacks?). He has brought old friends back into my life and grown good friends out of acquaintances.
I still have hard questions without answers. Everything still hurts, still exhausts, still tempts me to build walls and hide. But I hope one day to look around and discover that the cliffs have melted into foothills, the storm has blown over, and fruit is dripping off nearby trees.
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Love you sweetheart. I wish I had the magic touch or word to say. I pray many times for help to be just the right shoulder for you to cry on. I hope that I have not been insensitive to you at any time. Please let me know when I do. I hate that others have abused their friendship with you like that. You need the support of true and close friends. I wish I could shield you from those who try to rip your heart out.I love you so very much. I am praying that the Lord will show us how we can be a hand out on the craggy cliff, and extra rope to hold on to, and perhaps the hand that holds the lantern to shine a way. Sleep well sister. I love you.
My dear Joy, now I know why I have been thinking of you so often lately and praying. My heart is so heavy for you. I know there is nothing that I can say or do that will take away the tiredness, and the hurt, but rest assured I am here praying for you, for Scott, more than ever!! We love you guys so much! Hang on, Joy, there are a lot of us hanging onto those cliffs, and we need each other.
Becky
As someone who daily deals with a husband and daughter with rare genetic disease I so appreciate your honesty. Thank you for not giving up and for your endurance on this hard way. I will pray that God gives you strength for every step and that He draws you closer and reassures you every step of the day!
Joy, I can feel the pain and hurt in your post here. I’m so sorry that you have been hurt by people–why is it that people can hurt us so badly? And, the people whom we think are friends? It’s very difficult to find light in the dark world when these things happen. I pray for you often. I pray now that God will be that Rock you need to hang onto. I pray that he’s the Light you need in the darkness you sometimes feel. I can’t say that I know how you feel at all–what you and Scott have been through has to be the hardest thing to go through here on Earth–the loss of a child, a very precious child!
I pray that you find peace in those day long, continuous prayers–I’ve had those kind of days.
I know you have some great friends you can count on–I pray that they become more precious and helpful to you and Scott. We will continue to pray for you both.
My heart is full of sorrow for you not in your loss but in your hurt. I cannot know the real hurt you feel but your pain shows through in your post. I want you to know that even though I have never met you I truley care and love you in the Lord. You have blessed my life and shown me great strength. It takes much strength to admit your weakness.
Please don’t let go of THE ROCK. You have so much to give. Don’t let the hurts of others defeat you. You and God make a great team and can defeat any firey darts that are thrown at you.
I am praying for you.
Don’t you just hate it when the hurt comes from brothers and sisters?! The very ones to whom we should be able to turn to as His tools for comfort and guidance?
It is so very much more painful when betrayal comes from the family of God. I think about your newer post about the fig tree, and I think, “yet will I praise Him.”
So I guess we just go on praising Him. He is worthy and He always provides the way out- after the endurance to finish.
Joy, it made me so sad to read this blog entry. To know that people were trying to hurt you after everything you have been though. Whenever I feel weary in my day, I think of you and several others who have the strength to do so much more. I will be praying for you.