I set out to write a bit about myself for those who are new to my public persona here at Enthusiastically, Dawn, but each time I attempt to write, I find myself frozen. There I sit, staring at the screen, eyes glazed, mind blank…a statue. This is a strange experience for me. Since blogging publically in 2011, I’ve had writing ups and downs, but this is alien to me. This blankness that comes when I think of writing to share with those of you who choose to read my words, and share along with me in this space, is like a fog. I can’t see or think clearly. I’m not sure what grief looks like, but I will say that it feels like amnesia. Let me explain…
We draw our strength from the very despair in which we have been forced to live. We shall endure.
– Cesar Chavez
When I was seventeen, I wrote the following words in my journal as I struggled to find my identity:
I am. Am I. Am I who I think I am?
I am sure that many teens ask the same questions. But looking back at that young girl now, the girl I was, I could not have imagined then that she – I – would be asking the same question 4o years later.
Grief is like that. It shakes you to your core, and rattles your foundation. I will not deny that, or try to candy coat it. Now, I can only speak for my own experience, but speak I will, as God allows.
Losing an only child, our one and only child, my only child, is the insurmountable mountain that has been placed before us. This is the path we could not have fully anticipated, though we dreaded and feared. I’ve suffered many losses in life, but this one feels irreconcilable.
Some have said to me they don’t understand how I can function, how I can put one foot in front of the other in light of this loss. Sometimes I don’t know, either. Mostly, I sense my Good Shepherd carrying me, and continuing to carry me until I can bear my own weight agin. I guess that’s what I am looking for and hoping to accomplish. To find my footing once more in this strange new world that has been thrust upon us.
Spirit has fifty times the strength and staying-power of brawn and muscle
– Mark Twain
Now dear reader where does all this lead me? Where does it leave us? Well, open to possibilities previously unknown I would imagine. I guess I will keep putting one foot in front of the other, and as Elisabeth Elliot counseled wisely, keep doing the next thing. You won’t see me crying. I am not one to often share those moments. The tears I shed, I share before my Savior alone. He is the One who knows all and is faithful, true and trustworthy. He gives me strength and grace for the days. He is my secret strength and superpower. He is the One I praise day and night. He is the One who I cling to, and hope in. He is the One I wrestle and plead with. He is the One who keeps me in all things, always, and for that I am eternally grateful.
So, as I get reaquainted with myself, I will do my best to share as I go. I am in uncharted territory, I admit. Maybe, I’ll have something of value or encouragement to share with you, or someone you know. Maybe you will do likewise for me.
Who knows all the things that God may do, we never know fully what He is up to…but He is always on the move. And He is worthy of our attention. I’ll keep looking up, as I pray you will. Until next time, I remain,
If you are new here, here are a few places to get to know me and what I have shared:
Writing Life– anthologies, poetry events, guest posts