And yet...

I am trying to decide if this last month of my life has passed slowly or quickly. There have been other times in my life where the days seem to be crawling along while I'm in the moment, but then looking back once time has passed results in a different feeling altogether. This is one of those times. Every day feels horribly slow. I thought going back to school would help this, but honestly, the last two days have felt just as slow, if not slower, than the long days of vacation. This is not to say that every day is a bad day, because that's simply not true. However, every day does seem to take its sweet time drawing to a close, and I find myself wishing the time away. It has been almost a full month since the miscarriage, and as I write this it does seem crazy to me that so much time has passed already, considering how slowly each moment creeps by me right now. This, of course, is all in my head. I want time to pass quickly so that my body can finally go back to "normal". I want to be able to start trying again. I'm ready for that and tired of being stuck in this limbo between miscarriage and hope.

And yet, I am thankful for how far I've come already. Even though I thought the bleeding would seriously drag out indefinitely, it did eventually stop. That was huge. During that first, awful week, I could not begin to comprehend how life could possibly go on and return to normal. I thought all hope was lost and that I would never, ever be able to smile again. That too came to an end. Time really does heal all wounds, if not fully, at least just enough so that we can go on with life and face our daily tasks without plummeting into utter hopelessness. Slowly, you take a step back and realize just how much you are capable of handling; I now realize it's so much more than what I ever thought I could manage before. God's will will never take us where his grace cannot sustain us. I have found that to be true time and again in my life, and this experience has been no exception. Did I get angry at God? Obviously, if you've read this blog you know I did. Did I go so far as to question his very existence? Again, yes. Heck, I might have even sworn at him a few times in all of my passion. And yet.

And yet, a thin beam of light has been inching its way into the dark, foggy recesses of my subconscious this last week or so, breaking its way into that part of my mind where I hide all of my doubts, fears, questions and anxieties away from plain sight. This light is both beautiful and terrifying. It tells me that God is there. He hears me when I cry out in furious passion, and (unfortunately) he also hears me when I defy all that he is and all that he ever has been in my life. He hears me and knows me. He cares. He loves me deeply, so much more deeply than I'll ever be able to understand. He takes me back and forgives, washing over me with the a saving light I don't deserve. I apologize for my words, for my anger, for my actions and I know instantly that all is forgiven. It's OK.

I'm trying hard to let this light in, and yet still it scares me. I ask the Lord to help me with my burdens. I lay them all at his feet and try to walk away. I even turn around and take a few lighter steps in the right direction. And then, I panic: If I put it all in God's hands, and I mean ALL of it, I have to admit to myself that it's his will I need to desire and not my own. I am struggling with this. I WANT to want what God wants for my life, and yet my own desires are too powerful and I find I am not quite able to fully let go. I cling to my desire to have things fixed just so... I get anxious that if I hand these things over to God and instead aim to seek his will first, I will find myself NOT getting the answers I so desperately want. I am stuck in this conundrum and I can't seem to find the escape. I know what I need to do, and yet I seem to be unable to commit to that just yet. I am working on it.

Oh, this blog is a mess. Really, I should just be journaling in private because I set out to write about one thing, only to have my mind wander in ten different directions by the time I'm finished. If you are reading these, thanks for being patient and for being willing to read the ramblings of broken, yet finally healing spirit.

One more thing. As I talked to my mom the other day, she used a simile that so well describes how I feel right now. She said I was like an open wound that has started healing around the edges, but that can still be easily reopened by the slightest thing. There is no better way to describe it. I AM healing. I know this with all of my heart. And yet, on any given day, even if I am feeling nearly 100% like my old self, the smallest thing can send me spiraling right back to the initial pain of the miscarriage. For example, I have had two friends in the last week announce on facebook that they are pregnant and expecting their babies right around my original due date. The first time this happened, I literally felt like I had been sacked in the stomach. It was that hard of a blow. I saw the five million congratulatory comments and felt bitter towards every one of them. I thought about how Phil and I would now be sharing the news with the world too, and that just hurt so badly. And my mind went to other worse places I won't even share here. But, I will say that while these moments seem to rip the scab off and open that wound right back up, it doesn't take me too long to move on again. Can I be fully happy for these friends? Not yet. I wish I could, but I'm just not there yet. But I don't let it ruin my entire day. I try to refocus my thoughts elsewhere, and usually it works. There have been so many other things that have caught me off guard and literally left me gasping for breath at the pain felt in that still fresh wound, and I would be naive to think there wouldn't be more to come. And yet, one more time, I am OK. I am stronger than I thought I was. I am healing.