Update 2/10/10 Day 94

Dear friends,

I suppose I should have seen it coming. I've been warned by many, and I've seen it before in others. But no matter how much you think you are prepared for a headlong crash into grief, you never really are. It's incredibly difficult to even write these words, given the gratitude I have for all the grace I've been given. Still, I committed to being completely truthful, so here it is. Today was absolutely agonizing. Today I was sad, angry and distraught over the changes in my family's life. I was riddled with guilt about having an older car without all the safety features (even though that was what we could afford). I cried hard about the troubles that are here and now, and wished with a passion that I could change it all. The helplessness is a cascade. And to protect those I love, I can't publicly share some of the source of my sadness. If you want to stop reading now, it's ok. I know this isn't uplifting, but it's what is.

Now the faith I profess is put to the test. Now I find out if all I say is played out in my life. I know loving God does not protect us from pain, even anguish. I know these dark moments on the pilgrim road are temporary. I know I have no guarantees about the future. But I tell you from the depths of my battered soul that I will never turn back. I will follow the One who rescued me from myself, and not because I'm strong, or amazing or especially faithful. But because He is so utterly good and compels me to go on. Ultimately it comes down to this "I will stand, because He is able to make me stand". And it comes down to this "He who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it." And it comes down to this: "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil, for THOU art with me...". Don't get the idea that I'm some strong Christian with great faith. On the contrary. I can only say the Great One said He'd never let me go. I look longingly for the day when all sorrow will cease. Until then, I hope. I'm not strong, but the rope I'm holding onto is very strong indeed.

Pray I'll do what's right always, and that I won't act out of pain or fear. Pray for my boys, who are a joy to my heart. Pray for Stephen, who stands on top of pain every day with a beautiful disposition. And, I can hardly say it, for my girl, on whom the brunt of this thing has landed. Pray for blessings and prosperity of spirit to visit her all the days of her life. I know the Great One must be at work invisibly in her beautiful life. Her music is music to my soul. I would gladly, for any of my children, take on all their troubles. But as you know, it doesn't work that way. Everyone, even these young, innocent creatures have to walk their own sojourner's road. We can only walk close at hand.

Friends, I've never been more relieved that you are out there praying and caring. This thing surprises me so often. You would think that 94 days in is an odd time for a meltdown. But I've known from the beginning this wouldn't be short. If only someone could say "On day such and such, everything will be alright". No one can. I love the line from an old Amy Grant song:

"I've heard it said, when the river's running high
You get to higher ground, or you die.
Well muddy waves of pain washed over me,
and it only made me see, it's gonna be alright..."

I'm not dead, so I guess I'm getting to higher ground. Thanks for going with me to the pit. Thanks for making darn sure I don't live there. You are my shining stars.

Your friend on the pilgrim road,

Loriann