"To spare oneself from grief at all cost can be achieved only at the price of total detachment, which excludes the ability to experience happiness."  -Erich Fromm

To say I'm struggling with grief this week, would be putting it mildly.  It has been taking everything within me to get out of bed and face another day, and just as much determination not to rush back in, to put an end to the long and painful hours.  There is at least a part of survival mode left in me, acknowledging that I can't just sit by and do nothing.  There are legal and financial issues to deal with...to fight for.  Not that I care so much for myself...but I care enough to spare my children with anything further to deal with.  What they are presently experiencing is more than enough grief and pain in a lifetime.  

I have been reading a lot on grieving these past few days.  I'm learning it's healthy and necessary.  I have learned that you may feel like you're losing your mind in the midst of it, but you're supposedly not.  I've learned that grieving doesn't happen in a set amount of time, and with some people, it can take up to two years to withstand the peaks and valleys.  God, I pray it doesn't feel like this for that long.  How will I bear that?!!

I recently had a friend describe grief like a fog...and I have material that suggests this is true because your mind can experience mental "brownouts" from being overloaded.  Your mind is working with too many thoughts and feelings for the brain to process.  Research has also shown that our bodies can produce a type of enzyme which has physical and emotional impact on us.  This enzyme dehydrates our body and our way of thinking." (from "The Pain of Grief" by Doug Manning)

I can share what grief is to me.  It is a broken heart.  It is knowing that God's will is perfect, yet didn't include complete healing this side of heaven.  It is learning to accept His will, and still feel God is good.  It is having the love of a lifetime, then having it severed apart from you.  It is difficult to think I'll not see Mike's face this side of heaven anymore.  I still keep hoping this is a bad dream.  Time for me is standing still.  I don't want life to go on without Mike included. 

Grieving is a crash course on life, finances, and keeping your head above water on a daily basis....No....on an hourly basis.  It is the complete undoing of oneself, while being made into the image of his Maker.  It hurts.  It's lonely.  And it's frightening.  I want people surrounding me...and yet I don't.  I want advice...and yet I don't.  What I want...is what I've been shown I can't have anymore.  Security.  Joy. The hope of not being tested more than what I can bear. 

Am I surviving? Yes....to me, barely.  I just pray I come through all of this, learning the lesson God had for me, and not spending the rest of my life disabled emotionally and spiritually.  I realize the assignment God has given Christians to be a light to the world, and I take that very seriously.  I want my life to be a blessing to others.  I pray in some small way, this journey has blessed you, if nothing more, than to remind you to hold your loved ones a little tighter, cherish each moment you have together, overlooking the trival, and triple checking your state of affairs, so that your loved ones aren't left scrambling, or doubting, in the event something should happen to you. 

I was loved as deeply as a person could be loved by their spouse, and Mike thought he had done everything possible to give me a secure future if something should ever happen.  Thankfully, God had mercy and sent His angels to step in and protect His child.  He is good ALL the time.  My heart continues to trust in that...even through these dark days of grieving.

Thank you for your continued support and prayers.  I'm blessed to have so many of you care about me and my family.

"Watch the way then, as a cautious traveller;

and don't be gazing at the mountain

or river in the distance and saying

"How shall I ever get over them?"

Keep to the present little inch that is before you

and accomplish that in the little moment

that belongs to it."

--M. A. Kelty