Hope for my Weary Heart

Phone calls are really hard for me lately.Why?My stomach is all in knots and my legs get jello-y just because I must press "send" after the phone number and talk to someone.There are so many unpleasantries about grief. So many things that I want to leave hiding, in the box on the shelf, collecting dust.Surely I don't need to live through them.Just act like they don't exist and maybe they'll go away.And then they don't.And I'm reminded again that the only way out is through.How true is that sentiment in life?I am only a fragment of what I once was, or so it seems. Looking at pictures "before" makes me feel like I'm looking into another stranger's photo album. It just doesn't seem like my life. That was me, I acknowledge, simultaneously asking myself, Was that really me?Was that my life? Was that my joy? Was that my innocence?How quick and easy it is to look into my eyes and long for the before to be true of my after.And painfully to relive the moments of the heartache time and time again as friends get pregnant and have healthy ultrasounds and meet their little ones. Not because they don't deserve joy & rejoicing with, but simply because their beginnings mark so much of my endings.If I'm being totally honest, a large part of me feels like I left this world when Jacob did. Or at least I left the reality I once had lived in.I now sit as a mom, a mom who lost her child, on my couch, wrestling to the core of my being with who I am and what life is. I lash out in anger over the tiniest details unraveling throughout my days because I simply cannot hold it all in. I lay awake at night, aching over the loss and grief I feel. Is this going to be forever?And then I'm reminded: the only way out is through.The first time I really remember hearing that phrase - or at least having it resonate with me - was in labor. Our doula, maybe? Or a nurse. I cannot remember, now, actually hearing that phrase. But I do remember living it.The only way out is through, I remember re-stating to myself as Jacob worked his way into the world. The only way out is through, I experienced, as I lay relieved with my child on my chest.  I did it. I made it through.Am I the only one who is distracted by the "end goals" of life and those landmarks of accomplishments and directions? Am I the only one who looks around at others hitting the marks that I want to be hitting, and finding myself measuring up short? You name it, I've found a reason to compare myself to others. Job successes, house purchases, even house rentals that are far better than my own. Income and raises. Luxurious vacations or weekend trips. Children, yes of course, and even in marriage - because naturally I want to find a way to feel good when I compare and so I look at my husband and I know I married up and I wonder if others did as much as me.It's like The Game of Life. Except I'm sitting in my car, stuck between my first and second payday, spinning zeros or backtracking while everyone else is far in advance.And this grief hasn't illuminated a new ache within my soul to measure up above everyone else. It's simply expanded my view of how deep I cling to the idol of "winning" so much so that it invokes a deeper loneliness in competition.And then I realize that the eyes of my Savior look differently into my life and my loneliness and in it He draws near to me. He's not concerned with how many boxes I've marked in the checklist of all that I "should" achieve in this world. If anything, He says to me, Child, I've got your boxes planned out. In time. Why must you look ahead when I want you to look to Me?So the grief feels long and I want it to be over now, but alas, here I am. Exhausted again at the thought of another day - even another evening - with that elephant on my chest, tensing up my heart.  Another moment of the ache of loss and missing my son ravaging my stomach and my soul. I'm ready to race through it. I'm ready to come out on top. I'm ready to catch my breath.And I hear, The only way out is through.I look away from the desires for my life that lurk in the far distance, realizing that really, I'm staring off into the blank air and merely clinging to what I think will make me really matter in this world.  What I'm clinging to, suddenly begins to disappoint me as I notice its facade. It's beneath-the-surface is blank. Empty. I've been clinging to nothing.And now the only place I have to look is here, straight ahead, right beside me.  Into the eyes of my Savior, Jesus, Emmanuel - God with Us. He looks me in the eyes and He says, I'm here. I'm not letting go.And The only way out is through, and if you're going to go through, go through it with Me.I hear, "Come to me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." I want rest. [Matthew 11:28]I hear, "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life." I want Life again. I need Truth. Help me find the way. [John 14:6]I hear, "I am with you always, even to the ends of the age." It feels like this age will never end, and yet, He says He is with me. [Matthew 28:20]I hear, "In me you may have peace. In the world, you will have tribulation, but take heart. I have overcome the world." [John 16:33]I want peace. I have tribulation. I want to take heart. You have overcome the world.And so, I desire again, if only for an instant, to cling to Jesus.  He holds the key to death itself. He is the One who offers life. He is God Incarnate, Son of Man, Son of God, betrayed at the cross and yet still alive. And He tells me He draws near.The only way out is through.But it doesn't mean that the only way through is alone.This is Grace.  This is Good and True.  God with us.  God with me.  Not alone. My Savior near. My Heavenly Father with. Comforted and cared for.  Loved and known.  May I look to Him, safe in His presence. May this be the hope for my weary heart today.