That's What I'm Sayin'

I was reading at a blog of a girl that works for Steven Curtis Chapman. Her name is Kerry Hassenbalg. She has suffered some serious loss of her own and is now walking along side of the Chapman family as they morn an unimaginable loss. Her entry on June 17, 2008 read like the words were coming out of my own heart...  I had to share.  You should read it. No really, you should read it!  I'll wait for you.





Oh good!  You're back.  

When I was writing Remembering - the blog entry that I posted on Sunday - the little voice inside of my head said, "Don't you think that you have talked about this enough? Don't you think that every single person around of you is tired of your sad, dramatic story? Don't you think that you should be over this by now?  Don't you think that you could pull yourself up by your bootstraps and just be the person that you were?  Can't you just be normal?" And I almost did not post my thoughts. The main reasons that I did are because:

1) I am determined for my blog to be mine. Not something that I necessarily think someone might be interested in reading... but my true thoughts and feelings.  My journey. 

2)I am determined to share my journey so that maybe someone else's will be half a step shorter than mine. I want people that have suffered loss to realize that they are not alone if 4 years down the road or 40 years down the road they are still missing their loved one and learning from their situation.  I can't tell you how many women that I have talked to since my miscarriages that were profoundly impacted by their losses.  Their lives were literally changed by them. Before that point, I don't know if I had heard that from even one person.  So, I felt very alone at first as I felt like my life was out of control on so many levels. 

3) I am determined to leave a legacy for my children. I want them to know that this was the spiritual path that their mother walked. This is what she felt when this-or-that happened. This is the pain that she felt, the lessons that she learned, the way that God worked things together for her and for our family. 

4) I do not want to "waste my sorrow".  I am determined to get every last stinkin' thing out of this learning experience that I can so that maybe I will not have to revisit it and maybe I can stand with others that find themselves in similar situations and maybe I can be sympathetic to anyone in the midst of any sort of trial because of the things that I learned from mine.

Kerry is right... stuff floats to the top after a storm.  There is usually an ugly aftermath that takes a long time to get through, but in the end, I pray that there truly will be beauty from ashes - no matter how long it takes.