Five Minute Friday is here again already!!! Sometimes it is my favorite thing all week. This week’s word feels positively providential.
I cried a lot today. It’s been that kind of week.
As I sat across from my pastor, earlier this week, spilling out all the things that had been held in for too long with no one to sit with me and catalog the damage, he told me some things that I needed to hear even though I didn’t really want to hear them.
He said my struggles were gospel struggles.
And he said my grief was real.
And he said my pain was real.
And he said they were good things and I was supposed to be feeling them.
I knew what he meant, but he worried that I would think that he was telling me it was good to be in pain. I nodded that I understood that it was more about being in the process and being human and owning that humanity.
I clearly realized as I sat there that one of the things that I am feeling repeatedly right now looks something like, “I am in pain. I am really in pain. I don’t want to be in pain anymore. Make it stop.”
I am impatient with my pain and with the feeling of these hard things.
Right now, all is tender…. I am alive to the ache and the pain of missing my husband. I am alive to the grief and the deep soul cuts that came as a result of losing our church. I am alive to the ache of worry and anxiety that come when tests are ordered and results are slow in coming.
I finally heard back on the MRI that I was awaiting news about. After a day of being proactive and plucky, I learned that there was ‘no clinical significance’ for the abnormalities that were found. This is good news. A repeat MRI is indicated in a year and we’ll see if anything else comes out of that.
It’s good news, but I hung up the phone and cried for hours, and I do mean hours For the tenderness, and the hurt of walking this without my love… For the anxiety that has been held tight in my neck and my shoulders and behind my eyes for weeks now that seems now to have been in vain.
I am tender…. and I find that those things which indicate my aliveness… Those moments of “I am in pain. I am really in pain. I don’t like it. I want this to stop now,” need released often these days.
They spill over and I stand in it and I try to remember…
This tenderness, this teariness, this pain… is evidence that I am alive.