Snowed In

This weekend my parents took our Ladybugs to their house for a snowy Grandma and Grandpa weekend. This is the second time that they have been away from the house when we are home. The first was while Ava was in the hospital. Even then we weren't "home". We just slept here. They weren't gone for too many nights during that time. We quickly realized that we needed to tuck them in and see them in the morning.

It's quiet and lonely here. I should enjoy it. I do like hanging out with Allan. He's my best friend. When my Mom and Dad offered to take them I had all these notions of running errands that are no fun to do for us or for them. You know the ones that you have to go to 20 stores for specialty items. My goals are always more than what can be accomplished. Of course I want to clean out toys that we don't need anymore. We also need to clean out Ava's room. Something I've tried to do several times. I didn't think it would be as bad as it was to clean out Eric's room since Ava never really got in to it. She never had a chance to sleep in the crib in there either. Yet I find myself quickly frustrated and giving up each time I try.

I find it curious that the day after Ava died we were inundated with a big snow. I vaguely remember that there was snow but I didn't realize there was a lot of it until people started to make comparisons on the news. The snow kept us tucked in our house, cozy warm and together. We could do what we needed to do without the distractions and temptations of the outside world.

So here I sit. All these tasks before me and I realize that we are REALLY snowed in. The drifts are up to my hips and shoveling is slow going. Our little snowy ladybugs are safe and cozy with their Grandma and Grandpa. No outside distractions and temptations. I think God is telling me it's OK to let my guard down and do what I need to do. Part of me fears that too.

At Eric's service our Pastor prayed that we have "the courage to grieve". It struck me. It stayed with me. I didn't understand it. In my darkest hour, I clung to it. That day I learned just how deep dark and scary grief is. I found out WHY it takes courage to enter into such an emotionally draining and dark time. I remember it. I felt like I was in a black pit scratching my way to the top. Afraid that I would never ever get out. It was then that I realized that the courage I needed was to face it, head on and trust that God would carry me through it. As I write this I realize that this is why I never wanted to be in this position again. Not because I don't trust that God will carry me through even when I don't think I can see or feel Him. It's because that level of pain and emotion is just plain hard to deal with.

It's like the black smoke monster in LOST. The cast members run and hide from it. Some boldly stand there and look into the face of the evil before them. We are sinful and full of evil. We have to stare our ugliness and sadness between the eyes. Acknowledge the thoughts that accompany them. Cry out and know that "Jesus is light. In Him there is no darkness." He's always there on the other end to offer a hand, pull us out of the pit and bring light into our lives once again.