You are Still Alive

 

You are still alive.

Sometimes we view life like a puzzle. Sometimes it fits. Sometimes it just doesn't. Everything is out of place there is no way it all comes together, there is no way it all works out. My puzzle of life has looks like a whole bunch of broken messed up pieces, that I am supposed to live with this hurt, disappointment and somehow just keep going. Keep working, keep trying, keep smiling, keep being Becca. and it's lonely here. It's lonely to pretend I'm the same. It's lonely to live everyday trying. I don't want to be burden, but what do you say when the answer is always the same to "What's Wrong?" how many times do you answer it the same way before people get sick of it, before you get sick of it. Before you are tired of talking about, tired of thinking about it. and just tired. Where does this fit in the puzzle of my life? Where is the "for the good." because it just seems like chaos and really, really bad.

I opened my eyes it was 8:00. Great. Zeke had an appointment at 8:00 which we weren't going to make it to...obviously  I flopped over to look for my phone to call and cancel our appointment when I realized I hadn't seen my phone since about 9:00 PM the night before."Jeff can I borrow your phone?" I asked from the next room over, "Sure" he replied. I called the office they were understanding, as always and when I hit the "end" button I was greeted with Jeff's background picture. Which is me and Zeke and baby Elias in my belly. I turned my head to the side and scrolled over to his pictures. I haven't kept those on my phone because it made me sad. The other thing that made me sad was seeing pictures of the day Elias was born. Once such a joyful thing to reflect on now I shuttered at the remembrance of the day. Those pictures are on Jeff's phone as well which I had forgotten. My eyes were met with a small dark haired baby. And instead of closing out really quick I was captivated with him. I didn't cry, or get mad. But I felt what I had always felt for him. Love, and peace. The place of numb I was hiding wasn't just protecting me for hurt, but hindering me from joy.

"God please save my child. Please. I know you can, I believe you can. But God if you don't please protect me from a hardened heart. Don't let bitterness overwhelm me. Please let me still be compassionate and caring to the things that break your heart. Please let me cry with others, feel what others feel, and use me to help like I feel like you have done before."

That was the prayer I prayed many times a day while I was pregnant with Elias. One I had forgotten about until this morning. I prayed so many times that God would use this pain. That he would protect me from a harden heart and I had forgotten that. I forgot of those prayers until I was reminded this morning..

"You are still alive." My devotional read. Talking about the waves of grief, that which I was so familiar with, the sudden earth shuttering, and worse random moments where the pain is just as fresh as the day it happened. I have become extremely frustrated with these "episodes" which made me feel out of control and unstable. How I could be walking around Target and burst in to uncontrollable sobs. That I could be working and out of no where the pain is like someone shot me in the heart. So just unmanageable. I have seen this as a sign of my not healing. That If I'm "O.K" one day that I should be the next. But that's simply not true. The waves of grief are an answer to many, many prayers I had prayed months before. That I still care. That underneath all the numb, all the everydayness, underneath it all I am still alive. The emotions that bubble up and explode at points are my realization that she's still there. That I am not a stone cold, heartless, but someone who I actually recognize. Someone I remember, someone who is far less lonely. 

Numb. It's the place I live. For now. Not forever. I live here to make it through the day, but it's not where I will stay. It's not who I am. It's not who I want to be. With every breakdown I will take it as a sign as getting better, not worse. That loving is a sign of strength not a sign of weakness. That somewhere down deep, I am still alive.

No the puzzle of life can seem random, and completely unorganized but we aren't the ones working it. And even in the broken it all comes together, for the good.