Peace and love to you all.
I'm going to be upfront and honest with you, as I feel that is what you all deserve. We are not doing particularly well. We're all tired. We're all ground down. We all feel like we're in a rut. It has been a month already since Dad's passing, but it has felt like a decade. The weather has not helped and will continue to not help as more dang snow is scheduled for this week. We're all simply over it all.
The way it feels to me is like we are on a boat that has slipped the line and is drifting off into the great unknown. Worse, it feels as if nobody has noticed that we are floating away, which is not a fair assessment. We have and continue to be blessed by love and support from everyone, but you have your own lives too! You have your own work and own families and own daily grind to get through and need to focus on that first. All the same, it feels like we are simply drifting without a way to go.
It's hard. It is. When the shock of the moment and the speed of the following necessities have worn off, you feel the knowledge of what reality is sink in finally. It's like a hole inside you, but the hole has ragged edges, so every time you try to do something, one of the edges catches and hurts. Maybe it's walking into the office and seeing the Legos he was so proud of sitting on the desk. Maybe it's looking into the kitchen nook and knowing there aren't going to be puzzles there for a while, if ever again. Little things. Little memories. They catch and hurt and hurt and hurt.
I don't mean to sound melodramatic. We find joy in our lives too. Every night, we talk about what was good about the day and we always, always find something, even if it's little. We have lots of hugs and jokes and we heal bit by bit. We just...know that what is missing will always be missing. It will never not be missing again. And that stings in a way that is not possible to describe.
In moments like this, Dad would also say 'let go and let God' and we are trying to abide by that. We are remaining faithful and praying for healing and comfort. It is slow-going, but we remain steadfast in our belief that God will get us through it, even if there's anger and questioning. We will endure with God on our side. Even if it feels like we're adrift.
I'll leave you today with an appropriate Psalm.
Turn to me and be gracious to me, for I am lonely and afflicted. Relieve the troubles of my heart and free me from my anguish.
After 43 years of ministry, Randy Cross lived his "fourth life" and shared about retirement, living boldly and intentionally in our world. To be sure, there was some North Dakota thrown in.