It’s been a really challenging week. And I am tired. I am tired of not understanding why God allows certain tragedies to happen, well beyond my own. I am battling with feelings of anger that I have tried to avoid for a long time now. But the truth, the ugly truth; I’m really angry. I am pissed off at the injustice of how the cards seem to be dealt in this world. I am angry that children suffer, I am angry that loving parents have to lose their children. I am angry that good people are sick, suffering and fighting so much adversity. I am really angry that there is so much sadness and suffering in this world.
And I’ve been trying to tuck this anger away to a place that wouldn’t surface because I think I feared that anger was equal to bitter. But I’m learning that that’s not true. I am not bitter, I am human and feeling angry is okay. It’s an emotion the Lord allows us to have to get some of this “junk” out of our system. When we turn cold and bitter, that’s when it’s not okay. When we turn away from God, that’s when it’s not okay. Anger? He can handle anger. He can handle it all.
I’ve shed so many big huge tears this week. I really would have thought I’d run out of them by now but not I’m not even close. I’ve cried so hard I can barely even recognize the sound of my own sobs. Loud. Piercing. Sobs. They come from a place so deep within the heart that I have no control over the sound, the tone or the volume of what literally comes pouring out. It really surprises me how sad the sound of my own cries can make me.
I’ve been irritable to say the least. As well as anxious, restless and fearful. Each of which is so unsettling. And as much as I wish scripture would help calm these negative emotions, it doesn’t. Not this week. That’s my ugly truth.
Let me just skim the surface of why I am so angry this week.
My dear 25-year-old cousin lies in a hospital bed in critical condition for no known reason fighting for his life with his young wife, three adorable children, two brothers and the most loving parents by his side. I’ve been in perpetual prayer for his healing and I’m (SO) angry that God isn’t working faster. It’s my last week in my full-time position, something I’ve cherished and worked so hard to establish my grounding in for three years. It’s hard to let go. I’m angry that I even need this break. My maternal fetal medicine test results are in. I don’t know what they are yet. They are under review but they are in. I am angry that I need so many tests to tell me why my body kills my babies. My hormones are spinning out of control as my body tries to get back on rhythm after my most recent miscarriage after I lost Jake. I am angry I will soon be expecting a cycle and not a baby. Again. I am angry that every darn store is filled with holiday cheer. Don’t they know my son died? Don’t they now my cousin is ill? Don’t they know that I hate Santa Clause and Christmas trees, that I despise the smell of cinnamon and peppermint and cringe at the sound of holiday bells. I’m angry that I hate this holiday cheer crap this year. I’m angry my Jake died. I am angry he won’t be here for his first Thanksgiving and Christmas with us. I am angry that his holiday outfits won’t be worn by him, ever. I just need to pick up some groceries. I don’t care about stocking stuffers or poinsettias.
I’m just angry this week and I’m finally giving myself permission to feel that way. Grief is not very “user-friendly”. Emotions come and go as the please.
In my anger I will choose to believe while I wait…to honor of my cousin Tyler.
I will worship through my anger and sing through my sobs because anger is okay but I refuse to let Satan seep his way into my weary and vulnerable heart and try to convince me that God doesn’t hear me, because he does. He hears me. He knows I’m angry. And he can handle it. He is handling it.
Please lift Tyler up in prayer as you read this. I can handle my anger. But Tyler, he needs healing.