Taking a Moment Part II

The rest of my day, on that Tuesday, had me held in the depths of despair on the inside.  Oh, I was operating just fine on the outside, doing all of the necessary things and responding all of the right ways, but on the inside I was feeling heartbroken all over again.  Nothing seemed important that day, but I did things anyway.  I was still, “working through it”, as I mentioned in my previous post.  I held it together the rest of the day, and then it was finally time to retire to my bedroom.  As I went up the stairs that night, I was feeling relieved that I was about to be able to let down again.  I was tired of being strong.  I was tired of doing the necessary.  I was tired of being the decision maker.  I was tired of getting things done.  I have yet to spend a whole day doing nothing and the need for it finally caught up with me.  (I have been getting dressed, fixing my hair and wearing make up, on some days other than Sundays, which is rare for me. It has helped me to carry on with the life that is here to live and manage, but, more importantly, it has helped the children feel like everything is going to be fine.)  I did not necessarily want to be weak; I was just tired of being strong.

I entered my bedroom and immediately broke down into tears.  As I was sobbing, I continued with the process of getting ready for bed.  I went to my dresser to take off my jewelry and had to stop half way through and lean on my dresser.  I was crying so hard that my stomach was heaving like childbirth contractions… just like it did at the graveside burial when I leaned on the casket at the end of the service.  I was shocked at my own tears.  I could not believe that these kinds of tears could emerge a second time.  I continued to take off the rest of my jewelry then went to the sink to brush my teeth.  I brushed my teeth through the sobs and the catching of my breath.  I cried my way through taking off my clothes and putting on my pajamas. I decided that I needed to talk to or hear Nanette and Peter’s voices.  It was after 9:30, but I knew they would be up because they only had two nights left in the states before flying back to Sydney. Peter answered the phone and I could not talk.  Even when I did talk, he could not understand anything.  He had to change phones because of minutes left on their temporary stateside cell phone, so he told me not to move and he would call me right back.  The phone rang and it was Nanette.  She was compassionate and let me cry and listened when I was ready to speak.  I told her that I was not calling for any answers; I just needed them on the other end of the line.  She helped me work through it all, asked the right questions and by the end of the conversation I was cried out and we were able to talk about a few other things.  I was exhausted from the tears.

I was reminded of the scripture again that I put in a previous post.  I was feeling the exact same way again.

Psalm 22:14 & 15, 19, "I am poured out like water and all my bones are out of joint; My heart is like wax; It has melted within me.  My strength is dried up like a potsherd.  And my tongue clings to my jaws; You have brought me to the dust of death.... But you, O lord, do not be far from me; O my strength, hasten to help me!"

I felt like I had been poured out like water.  My heart had melted like wax.  My strength was dried up.  I was thirsty from the tears. The Lord gives us a prayer when we don’t know what to pray.