Realizing Acceptance

I am realizing that grief really does change over time.  No longer am I living those first few moments following Seth's death when I could barely breath, when I couldn't move, when I would zone off into an empty space.  I was reflecting on that time over the past few days not to dwell there but to see for myself if I have moved from that time.  I need to know I am trying to live again.  I need to know that I survived that moment so I can believe it will keep getting better or at least keep getting to a new normal.

I was talking to a friend about this very thing.  I needed her to tell me that she thinks I am getting better.  Walking through life after such a tremendous loss has been the most difficult thing I ever done in my life.  I don't know how walking ever seemed easy in the first place.  Learning how to walk a second time has taken ever ounce of my being to accomplish.  Well, my being and God's incredible mercy and grace.

The very first song I remember actually hearing on the radio after Seth died was "The Hurt and the Healer"  I couldn't believe the words of this song.  The words spoke so much to what I was feeling on those first few days as I drove my children to the bus stop.  I was so broken.  I was deeply hurt.  I was so lost.

The words  “I am alive even though a part of me has died.”  spoke so true of my grief. I was alive. I was alive even if I didn’t want to be. And I didn’t want to be. My heart was in trouble and needed to have someone--GOD--breathe it back to life. 

The Hurt and Healer became my song.  I would play it over and over.  I even blogged about it here <<Surrendering the Pain>>. I had to believe as the song suggested that Jesus would not let my pain, my loss go in vain.   I was suffering.  I had to do as the song suggested and fall in to my Lord's arms open wide. There was no other choice really.  I had to allow Jesus to pull me through.  Here it was the place where my hurt and my Healer would collide.  The only thing that made sense was that Jesus had the ability to take my heart and breath it back to life. 

I can say He has and is still doing just that. 

Recently, as I heard the song I focused more on the phrase of the song that the music revs up and speaks about the mercy.  Maybe it was simply enough that God would just breath into my heart so it would contiue to beat.  A beating heart would keep me alive.  But God's love is greater than that.  He doesn't just want me alive, He wants me to LIVE.  So in His amazing goodness and mighty majesty He as the song suggests "ushered" in.  He showered me with His grace.  He covered me with His mercy.  And He said loudly, firmly yet lovingly, gently "It's over now". 

He didn't say "Get over it" or "Stop your crying" or "Forget it"  He said...I love you.  I have it now.  I have Seth now. I will never let go of him. I will never let go of you.

It really was there in my weakness that I could bow down and accept it.  My God has my baby Seth in the palm in His hand.  In that very same palm He holds me. He loves us.   

It is over now!  I will never walk through that pain of Seth dying again.  I will never fight to take a breathe as I did in that moment that he died.  It is over now.  I will not have to learn to take that first step without him again.  It is over now.   And it is the now that "acceptance" comes to the front of the grief cycle line and lets me in.  Acceptance is more than simply saying "My baby died. He is not coming back."  Speaking those words were REALITY not acceptance.  Reality hit about a month after Seth died.  And it was not pretty and it hurt --for lack of a better description-- like I just walked out of hell.  Acceptance to me has more to do with the living again part that I have been dancing around in grief trying to discover.   It is realizing that my grief had purpose. My Lord used it to pull me through to a place of accepting that this deep loss, this incredible pain, the love for my son, Seth's life all mattered. It mattered to me. It mattered to people who loved Seth.  It mattered to my God. 

 It mattered to God so much that He ushered in so that I would not merely breath but that I would live.  In spite of walking through all of that I AM ALIVE.  Acceptance is living again.  It means I can breath, I can smile, I can laugh, I can cry, I can speak, I can love.  I am alive.

Am I through grieving?  I don't know.  I hear that grief is best described like the waves of the ocean and I am like the shore.  The grief could come roaring in like a strong wave or trickle in like a cool breeze onto me at any moment. But I have learned how to swim better in the grief.  I am stronger now so the waves shouldn't drown me.  Am I still sad even when I am smiling?  Of course I am.  I love Seth and I miss him.  The being away part will always make me sad.  Yet, today here I am realizing acceptance by smiling, living, loving again.

It's the moment when humanity
Is overcome by majesty
When grace is ushered in for good
And all the scars are understood
When mercy takes its rightful place
And all these questions fade away
When out of the weakness we must bow
And hear You say "It's over now"

I'm alive
Even though a part of me has died
You take my heart and breathe it back to life
I've fallen into your arms open wide
When The hurt and the healer collide

--words from The Hurt and Healer by Mercy Me