Yesterday was a very, very hard day! It started with a sinus pressure headache that made me irritable. By lunch time things had leveled out and everything seemed to be alright.
After lunch, as I was working, I began thinking of something my hair stylist said on Saturday, when I stopped in to get a haircut. She greeted me with “Hey, baby!” I smiled because no one has called me “baby” since the last time Terrie called me by that endearment.
As I sat at my desk, trying to do my work and thinking about Terrie and I started missing Terrie with a great intensity. I began to cry and couldn’t seem to stop crying. The “E” (emotion) bombing had begun and they were dropping five hundred pounders. There is no early warning system. No sound of the approaching bombers because they are stealth. They sneak up on you when you don’t even suspect they are near. The sky turns dark and the tears come as your heart is torn to pieces by memories and thoughts of the one you love.
Co-workers would walk by and see or hear me crying, even though I tried to cry as quietly as I could. They would ask, “Are you OK?” Awkwardly, I responded, “Yes, yes, I’m OK.” Not wanting to discuss how I was feeling with anyone at the moment.
I left work early, with my eyes burning from the tears. I made it home to my recliner and sat down, trying to overcome the weight of the emotional attack. I hid myself in sleep for a short time, until my brother called to tell me he was there for me if I needed him.
Mechanically, I went to the kitchen to fix a bowl of cereal. I was in no mood to try to be creative and create a meal or even defrost a frozen prepared meal. Tonight, food was not to be enjoyed but to sustain.
Television was just a short distraction, but not enough to keep the tears away. Finally, I turned the television off and just sat in the dark living room, crying. Not wailing, but a steady stream of quiet tears rolling from the corners of my eyes. I hear a car go by and see the diffused headlights cross the walls of the room. It’s time for bed.
I went to the deserted lonely bedroom with my heart and head numb. I knew i had to be tough, I had to survive this attack. It is my habit to read before going to sleep. I had several things to choose from; a book on grief, a military fiction book, news websites, or other books. I needed something greater than these, I needed to hear from the Lord.
I was reading in the Book of Mark about a leper who came to Jesus and said, “If you are willing, you can make me clean.” Moved with compassion, Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him, and said to him, “I am willing, be cleansed.”
The words, “If you are willing…” repeated in my head. I knew if Jesus was willing, He could end the tears for the night and give peace and sleep until morning. And He said to me, “I am willing…”
This morning, I received the lyrics to an old song called “He Giveth More Grace” written by Annie Johnson Flint. I share them with you because they are such a good reminder that we are not alone.
1 He giveth more grace as our burdens grow greater,
He sendeth more strength as our labors increase;
To added afflictions He addeth His mercy,
To multiplied trials He multiplies peace.
2 When we have exhausted our store of endurance,
When our strength has failed ere the day is half done,
When we reach the end of our hoarded resources
Our Father’s full giving is only begun
3 Fear not that thy need shall exceed His provision,
Our God ever yearns His resources to share;
Lean hard on the arm everlasting, availing;
The Father both thee and thy load will upbear.
4 His love has no limits, His grace has no measure,
His power no boundary known unto men;
For out of His infinite riches in Jesus
He giveth, and giveth, and giveth again.