“Our journey through grief – through the valley of the shadow of death – is slow, laborious footwork. We put one foot in front of the other, one step at a time. It is a process that cannot be sidestepped or hurried. The destination is God’s peace.”
I read this quote every morning when I’m making breakfast for the kids. It’s on a bulletin board above my desk, right next to a strip of photobooth pics of my brother and me. The pictures were taken at my wedding reception 6 years ago. Josh and I had been talking for a long time and I remember thinking that I should probably go and mingle with other guests (after all, I could talk to my brother any day)…but I didn’t want to leave because it felt like one of those special moments–one that I would always remember.
Some days I’m so mad. I admit it, I’m angry with God a lot. Almost 8 months after losing Josh, I still can’t figure out why it happened. Why him? Why then? He was a father, a husband, a son, a brother. Why take him? I’m desperate for answers…explanations…understanding.
Some days I’m just plain sad. Even the happiest times–birthdays, holidays, celebrations–have a tinge of sorrow that I fear is always going to be there. Then there are the ambushes. In a grief support group that my mom and I attended, that’s how they referred to the moments of sadness that you don’t see coming. Passing a guy at the gym who had Josh’s eyes…the ice breaker question at my mom’s group, “do you have a brother?”…or typing an email to my family and seeing his name pop up in the box as a suggestion. Those kinds of moments take my breath away and make my heart ache in a way that I didn’t used to know was possible.
But thankfully I don’t have to do this alone. I have to be reminded of it every single day, but once I stop and hand my sorrow and my fears over to God, He sees me through it and pulls me out of my dark place. He reminds me that this life is only temporary…and someday I’ll be with Him and my entire family for eternity. So until then, I’m going to seek joy in the life I’ve been given…and keep putting one foot in front of the other. That’s what Josh would want.