Grief. It sneaks up on you. Often when you least expect it. Pops up out of the blue with no warning at all.⠀
Last night we were watching Last Man. Neil’s daughter had passed away earlier in the film, but it wasn’t until much later that it hit me.⠀
Like a wave.⠀
The sobs overtook as I asked Clay to pause the movie. I cried into his chest as he wrapped his arms around me… “I’m just so sad for our babies.”⠀
I miss them. Our children. Everything within me longs to hold them.
“Why?” he asks sweetly. “They’re the ones with Jesus.” And while I know he’s right, my heart aches still.
I remember that first week… it was so hard to get out of bed. Clay wrote me a note one morning that I found on the kitchen counter. It said, “if nothing else, coffee’s a reason to get out of bed.” I laughed and smiled at this truth!
While that deep initial state of grief has passed, and while I no longer need coffee to be the reason I get out of bed, the grief still comes in waves.⠀
Wave after wave.⠀
They’re fewer and farther between. And less deeply intense.
Sad as it may feel, I don’t mind the waves — for I will always love and miss them, and I know it’s quite alright to continue to grieve them.⠀
And sad as it may be, there’s joy in this grief — for I know what my husband says is true. They are with Jesus, and I can’t think of any place where they would feel more loved and at peace and at home.
