Someone is Missing
On Sundays, I have a routine. I get up, listen to church podcast on a walk with God, make a big breakfast, and spend the rest of my day reading books, reading the bible, and diving into my thoughts and emotions. It’s the day I set aside solely to talk with God and take all the masks off that I wear around people. A truly ideal headspace to work on my personal plan. And, sitting here right now, I am heartbroken at the realization that came crashing down…
After my post last week, I was nervous to be real with myself and get into the raw emotion and the reasoning behind the goals I was/am pursuing. And even more nervous to see what goals lie within my soul after all the growth I’ve done over the past year. So, as soon as I looked through my personal plan this afternoon, it hit me. Those goals I had established at the age of 22 will make me happy. There’s just one fundamental person missing from that picture. Greg.
Greg was the glue to the plan I had for my life. He was the person that didn’t make me feel like I had to control every aspect of my day. A compliment to my own personality. One who made me ecstatic to view the world from a different perspective. And now that he is gone, my plan, my goals, the life I envisioned, has crumbled. As though part of the foundation was ripped out. That life I dreamt of, cracked and crumbling without the one that helped hold it up and bring it to life.
No wonder I took one look at the relationships section of my plan and had to close my laptop a few weeks ago. No wonder when I looked at the goals, I felt overwhelmed with anxiety and fear. No wonder I have been welcoming in past demons as old friends. Because the person I wanted that life with, and started to see that life with, won’t be standing next to me in those monumental moments. A key element, eternally missing. The glue to the life I thought would make me happy, now a guardian angel.
Where do I go from here? Do I adjust the goals I was pursuing? Do I change some of the goals I know would make me happy, because I can’t bring myself to keep them without Greg being there by my side? Should I change those goals at all? Should I leave them as is, hoping that someday someone new will become the glue and I will grow enough in my grief to allow Greg to just be a guardian angel instead of allowing the situation to become a weighted identity?
Question after question piled high on top of the already difficult realities I’ve had to face. Like I’m walking in a long dark tunnel and the light that I think is the end, that I think is the sun, turns out to be another train. Shattering more pieces. Shattering different pieces than before.
I hate that I think about it so damn deeply, but here I am, these thoughts and questions making me dizzy.. This is what I get for taking a full day a week to check in with myself.
I do have loved ones that help wash away the fear of the questions I ask myself and ask God. But really, the only person I want right now, right here in this moment, is Greg. When you don’t get to say goodbye, when you wake up with questions every single day, there is no closure to move on from. So the tunnel gets longer. Stripping you down to the bone, completely naked with emotion. But the thoughts and emotions actually feel more like a weighted blanket over my shoulders.
As soon as I feel myself back in that mindset, I can feel Jesus come and walk with me though. Putting his arm around me, holding me close while I cry and do my best to hand over the shattered pieces of my heart with shaky hands. Whimpering with tears rolling down my face that I need help, that I want help, that I want to release the weight of the identity that I have let consume me once again.
And maybe this is that moment for me. The monumental moment where I can actually release and start to plan goals around a life that lets Greg be a guiding light instead of my excuse for staying in the tunnel. For staying stuck.
Regardless of what this moment and realization represent in my story, I am giving myself grace. Grace to feel what I am feeling and grace to allow myself the time to grieve the life I once thought would make me happy.
And just now, while writing this, I can feel Jesus’s presence come sit next to me with abundant love, come to bring a lost sheep home. I can see him holding out his hands to take the broken pieces while I once again ask him to help me stand and put the pieces back together.
It’s time to let Jesus resurrect my pain and sadness. It’s time to let him resurrect my life and help me realize the beauty in the unknown that God has planned in the next puzzle pieces. It may take longer than I would like and that’s okay. Patience rarely works on the same timeline we hope for, but it is worth what comes on the other side. I know that even though it’s not easy to face.
I picture myself slowly standing up now. Jesus’s arm supporting me on one side and Greg’s arm supporting the other, my eyes looking forward toward the light. Looking to God, ready to get out of this tunnel.
The journey is daunting and will be full of even more hard truths like those that hit me today. But, I have a fierce guardian angel always with me, and the Lord to carry me when a train comes down the tunnel again. They will be there to support me the entire walk out of this heavy identity. And this time as I rebuild, my foundation will be in Christ. Because unanswered questions and holding onto something that destroyed me is no place to lay foundation.
Confidently,
Katey