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.

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