If you're going through hell, keep going.

It seems like it's been forever since I blogged. It really feels like things are crazy around here even though they really aren't. I think it's just taking me longer than I would like to get back to normal.

I feel like I have had a bit of a "grief relapse". I had been stuck in the angry, pissed off stage for a few weeks and the last few days I have gone down a step in the "stages of grief" chart. I am back to being heartbreakingly miserable.


When I was pregnant with Noah, right around 18 weeks I had a dream. I dreamed that I had a baby. I woke up  from something (don't know why I was asleep in my dream) and I had a tiny little version of Nathan in my arms. I couldn't believe how much it looked like him. Thinking back on it I can't believe the similarities between that dream and what happened in real life.

I feel like I have been struggling more than normal lately. Anger is a major component in my life right now, along with jealousy, and it's not a pretty thing. I have been praying for relief from my ugly feelings but it would appear that I am going to have to make a bit more effort in this one. One of the biggest frustrations to me however is that I have heard so many stories of people who in their darkest hour get angry with God. They scream and they cuss and they practically taunt him to "show me what you're made of". And God grants them what they want.

To me this seems to unfair. I never wavered from the knowledge that God had a plan for me. I never looked at it as some sort of bargaining act. I just prayed for acceptance. I knew His will would be done and it was never in my hands, and I just begged the Lord to give me the strength to get through it. And my son died. That's what makes me so angry. That all these other people have a spiritual temper tantrum and their babies live. And I do what I feel is expected of me and put my faith in the Lord, and my son dies.

I imagine the Lord doesn't reward for good behavior while we are still here on earth. And maybe at the end of the day, all of the people in a rage with God were at their breaking point so God was merciful to them. He knew that David and I could weather this storm perhaps and that's why he picked us. I am just so miserable.

On the one hand I hate to complain because I know things could be so much worse. But on the other hand I want to stomp my feet and punch holes in the wall and shake my fist at someone. Not at God though. I don't know if it's that I am scared to get mad at him, or if I know deep down that in all things God works for the good of those who love him. I think it's a mix of the two. I may be frustrated beyond tears with how this worked out, but if I don't have God and the hope of his salvation, than I really have nothing. I know that this happened for a reason, I just wish so badly it would be revealed to me.

But until that day, I won't let this get the best of me. I still have two boys in my house here who I love so much! I just need to keep on keeping on.