Life Without Mother

I thought the second year, all of the seconds would be easier. In some ways they are. But in some ways, they’re worse. I guess it didn’t help that they were firsts as well as seconds. Firsts with the new family, seconds without the old.
But even away from the family, here at school, I miss her everyday. And it’s like I have to choose every morning whether I’m going to be joyful and honor the Lord by using the strength and joy He gives me through His Spirit, or grieve and honor the Lord by allowing Him to comfort me in my distress as only He can. Most of the time I choose joy. Why?
Because this is the second year. It feels like bringing up old news to say that there is still an ache deep in my soul that threatens to tear me apart. Only by the grace of God do I stay whole–I can’t do it without Him.
It is the second year. I can no longer say, “My mom died last year.” No, she died back in 2016. Old news.
And my tendency is to be strong. But true strength is being weak and letting the Lord be strong. I’m still learning that one. I’ve always instinctively been strong for my family and friends. The walls that hold back what I’m feeling in order to hold someone else up need to be torn down. It’s so difficult to be vulnerable. I can be honest. I can tell you what I think or feel–if you ask. I don’t freely give the information. Why?
The devil tells me the lie that if I share this grief with others, I’m being selfish for possibly making them take some of my burden. And yet that is the reason we have the church! The fellowship of believers is supposed to be that: fellowship! Living life together, sharing each others burdens and lifting each other up in Christ. I’m so ready to share someone else’s burden but when it comes to my heaviest one, I’d rather bear it alone so as not to burden someone else. But part of sharing our burdens is not actually sharing the burdens, but verbally sharing them in order to give them completely to Christ through prayer over one another.
Vulnerability is hard. A lack of it divides us from true fellowship with one another and, even more importantly, with Christ (one of the devil’s favorite things). We feel alone but don’t have to. We can’t do life alone.
I struggle with trust. Not in regards to trusting God–He is the only one I fully trust. It is my fellow human beings. I am able to give the grace of forgiveness, but not the grace of trust. I have become emotionally independent. And yet my emotions so heavily depend upon people. My love language is touch! One hug makes me feel ten times better. An especially good hug makes me feel infinitely better. My second love language, by only a little, is quality time. I love being with people. But there is this wall that has a sign saying, “Nothing lasts forever in this world” and is built of memories of people betraying my trust or people being taken out of my life. Why invest when I could be betrayed or relationships don’t last? Except relationships do last through Christ, and betrayals are not in every relationship and can be forgiven.
So this post has been a bit more vulnerable. These are inner workings in my heart where God is still working out the kinks. But I know that in Him I have victory over the lies and fears. It’s a process, like my grief, but “I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me!”

Philippians 3:12-14
Hannah