Wednesday, October 30, 2013

In Christ Alone!

I know that seemingly I've been on an even kilter for what seems a fair amount of time now. Yet, a few weeks ago, while attempting to lead a prayer set at the Rock House of Prayer, stirring yet again began.

I got up to pray, and all I could do was cry. Though I didn't hear Jurgen's guitar and voice harmonized with Debbie's singing or Rob's saxophone playing; the memories of coming every Wednesday to early morning prayer with my husband for 3 years or even more, came flooding in. This was the first time since my husband's suicide that I came to RHOP. I had stayed away all this time. I could only make garbled proclamations in between my tears of mourning. I REMEMBERED. I remembered the grogginess of 5:30 a.m. kissing our throats as we prayed and sang. Our ears and heart were tempered by the leading of the Holy Spirit in melodic songs that deeply touched the spirit.

I cried because I wanted to be what we were. I wanted Rob back here, on earth and in my life. The Lord gently reminded me this was not a possible choice. Grief is the loss and mourning is the remembering. How do I mourn Rob gracefully? I don't think that I can. I have grieved very ungracefully with rivers of tears and snot offerings at the altar.  The memories are sometimes wondrous and amazing. I worry that I won't remember the essence of Rob, the goodness of who he was in his right mind in Christ. I have to stop and dig very hard for those memories and yet other times the memories over take me like the flow of many rushing waters.

I have been quietly processing great contemplative questions my Pastor adjured me to consider. His words did not fall on deaf ears, his love was felt in my spirit. I am reminded, God rebukes those He loves. In this time of redefinition I have allowed insecurity to weave itself into my life. This is a new experience for me in these last 22 years of my life. Who I am has changed drastically through my husband's suicide. I have been divorced and know the pain of divorce. The hidden rejection in it. In surviving suicide as a spouse, there is a feeling of blatant silent rejection that you can never address. I have felt the most rejected in this experience, even more rejected then being given up for adoption. There are so many unanswered questions. Too many, in fact. And they play with your mind. Especially security.

In my husband's suicide, I not only lost my husband, but lost all financial security with much debt that I have been working my way to pay off.  Many of my relationships have changed through this journey of surviving suicide. Many that I thought were solid life long friends, don't call or can hardly bare to spend time with me or look me in the eyes. I own my part in that I have not taken the energy or time to call or reinvest in relationships. When it is all said and done, there is no energy left when you are a survivor of suicide. You must be intentional with maintaining relationships, even if others aren't. I had begun to think that I had nothing to share and that I was worthless and so I desperately rode in on other's coat tails looking for affirmation and acceptance I so desperately needed, but could not ask for. This doesn't work.

I need to be honest with myself and remove the subtle mantel of delusion camouflaged as emotional stability. I am a weak, fragile and broken person. I need affirmation and acceptance. Please forgive me for trying to find my desolate needs met in people instead of you, Lord. Thank you God, that I can receive all that I need in my identity from you. In Christ alone!

Excerpt from "Indescribable" the book! by Kimberly Wallace