There’s a whole list of reasons why I started writing here but there really are just a couple main ones.
Number one. I’ve always expressed myself best through writing. It’s my outlet. It lets me get my thoughts out, organized and remembered. Sometimes I look back and think, “That was stupid. How embarrassing.” Other times, I think, “Did I write that? It sounds so wise! Huh? Who knew?” Dumb or profound, the process of writing helps me personally to deal with the big feelings. Losing my husband has brought me a lot of big feelings.
My story, our story; it’s worth telling. It’s not one of perfection. It’s one about a couple of messed up people who found each other and the God who saved them from their sins and theirselves.
Number two. Sharing helps other people to not feel so alone. When you’re sitting in your own little pool of despair, it often feels like you are the only person in the entire history of the the world who has gone through hard. While no one else has gone through your exact hard, we’ve all had our own. If not yet, we will. That’s just how life works.
One hundred percent of us will die. One hundred percent of the people we love will die. Short of Jesus coming back in our lifetime, this is inevitable. So in this life, we will be mourners. We will lose the people we love. As true as this is, it’s still somewhat socially taboo to talk about it. People just don’t know what to do with grief, be it their own or someone else’s. Maybe, just maybe, by sharing my story, I can lessen someone else’s burden and make them feel just a little less alone.
Wanna know something else? I don’t write so you feel sorry for me. Not at all. Although I will sometimes unapologetically pull at your heartstrings, I promise I am not seeking your pity or sad emojis. My hope is that while my words might bring a few tears, they will also bring you hope.
Number three. God is still good. I know so often that can sound trite, fake, even cliche. But if I can sit here, deeply effected by my husband’s sudden death, and tell you that I still believe in a God who loves me, that I have seen his hand in the aftermath, maybe, just maybe, you will find it a little less unbelievable.
Maybe, just maybe, you will soften your heart and see the grace in your own grief. Because, dear one, I promise you, it is here. He is here. The same God who knit you together in your mother’s womb is watching you now, waiting for you to cry out to him so that he can wrap you in his arms and hold you while you sob. He’s never more than one word, one step, one breath, one desperate prayer away.