March 16th, 2008
(My journal from five months after Chad passed away)
It is Sunday morning. I skipped church to come sit at the cemetery. Oh God – I want to give up! How can I bear this pain? It feels as though it will suffocate me. Why, oh God, why must I visit my husband at a grave?
I do not feel that I can go to church in such a wreck. Joel is watching me – and perhaps I would get ‘called in.’ What a shame. It truly breaks my heart that I must feel that way. Shouldn’t the church be the place I should be when I hurt so badly?
I’m tired. Just deep inside, tired. Alone. I’d like to cancel everything. How God? How can I run my ministry – I can barely feed my children. God – this one is Yours. I can’t do it! You are going to have to send someone to help.
I keep expecting the pain to lessen – but sometimes I wonder if it is worse – as the reality of doing new things without him sets in. Oh God, what shall I do? I know my help comes from You . . . so, please . . . where is it? My house and life feel as if they are falling down around me. Why am I sitting in a graveyard? Oh, my aching soul!!!!
Perhaps I just need to ‘buck it up.’ If so, I repent.