11 years. That’s how long it’s been since the doctors came to tell me my world would forever be changed. It was this day 11 years ago that my spouse of 3 ½ years, the father of my 5 ½ month old daughter, died of Hantavirus. There would be no more shared times together. There would be no future with more children together on our little place tucked outside of Bridgewater, SD. The world was different and couldn’t ever resemble what it did before losing Paul.
While every story has it’s good and it’s hard parts, on days like today the hard certainly come into focus. I’m walking beside my 11-year-old daughter who continues to understand what it means that she is growing up and maturing without the every day in and outs of having her biological father guiding her way… at least in a physical sense.
There is no doubt that who her dad was continues to shape who she is. She wants to know about him and wonders how life would be different if God didn’t allow her dad to die when she was so young. I too wonder. It would have been a different life that would have been unrecognizable compared to the journey we have traveled.
See, when we are broken beyond our own ability to repair… something changes. It has to. Our usual tactics of looking like we have life together doesn’t even begin to super glue the million pieces life shatters into, back into place when that crisis enters in. For you perhaps it was a diagnosis, a loss of a family member like me, the decisions of another person who violated you, or some other “moment” in which everything changed… but you too were broken…
I discovered that in the midst of my incredible brokenness, God listens. He hears our cries and knows every tear that falls from our face. Our suffering does not go unnoticed. Matthew 5:4, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted” may feel like an empty promise on your journey today, and that’s ok. There were many hard and tearful conversations I had with God after Paul died and life’s waves continued to pummel me. However, in time as I allowed the pain of the brokenness of my journey to come, the light also began to appear. I pray that as you have the courage to name your pain, that you too can experience some light of this promise and that the light can come into more focus as God brings those broken pieces into a beautiful healing that only He can offer us.
I am grateful for so many who have cared for and about me and my family in this journey of loss. Because of my journey, I’ve also had the privilege of hearing other stories as people sat with me in their own pain-having the courage to face what may seem like something that can only consume them. Having that courage to share our pain allows that pain to be shared by the listener and the Lord as well as transformed… this begins to allow the load to shift.
Sometimes there is a significant moment of relief when we release what we’ve tried to carry on our own. Often times it is an ongoing process of releasing the load again and again and crying out because of the weight we feel when we begin attempting to carry it on our own.
Even after the load has shifted, there are times it again feels heavy. However, because of this journey I’ve lived, I am reminded that I must challenge the part of me that says I need to do it all on my own, and instead seek out God in prayer and talk with those whom I trust and who listen in a sacred way. I am thankful for the gift of my brokenness, although it continues to challenge me and force me to grow.
I continue to most be challenged by the way my daughter has to forge this journey for herself as well. I can offer love and support and a listening ear, but I don’t get to rescue her from this experience and make it different. I’m not that powerful. This is heart-wrenching, yet I know it’s developing a sweet heart within her as well. I see her caring for others who have a deep hurt in their heart as well, and I don’t doubt that God will use this part of her story in a good way.
I pray that where ever you are in your journey, you can have space to feel the pain, be encouraged that you are not alone, and feel the load shift when you can release the weight, and allow grace to instead overwhelm you today.
~MM
*I was given a wonderful horse by a beautiful friend of mine as I begin my work with Restoration Ranch, LLC. When we first interacted with this horse, my daughter was so excited about him and wanted to ride him. The photos I captured on my phone are in different positions. If you notice the glow around her, she said this was her dad riding with her. He had a passion for horses and the opportunity to care for these 4 legged relatives connects my daughter to her dad in a new way. God knows what we need as we journey, even though it’s often not what we want or expect.
