This morning I woke up with a profound sense of grief and loss.
This morning I let myself grieve the loss of my pre-cancer life. I let myself grieve the loss of my pre-cancer body. I let myself grieve the loss of my pre-cancer hair.
This morning I let myself grieve the loss of my pre-coronavirus Covid-19 life. I let myself grieve the loss of being able to spend time with my family and friends.
This morning I let myself grieve all the losses.
This morning I let myself lament.
This morning I reached out to a friend for prayer. She responded with a written prayer. I read it and I prayed. Almost imperceptibly my focus shifted.
This morning I remembered the times I woke up with tears on my pillow as I waited for that first chemotherapy. That fear of the unknown. That visceral fear.
This morning I remembered the words that comforted me then:
“You’ve kept track of my every toss and turn
Each tear entered in your ledger,
(Psalm 56, The Message)
This morning I pondered the meaning of these words. I am not a theologian but I believe God cares intimately for me and us and our suffering world. I believe God cares and remembers our sorrow as if he kept each tear in a bottle.
This morning I remembered that
“He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”
(Revelation 21, NIV)
This morning I know I am loved.
This morning I know that ultimately all will be well.
This morning I am feeling thankful for lament. I am feeling thankful I am able to able to connect with my grief and my loss.
This morning I am feeling thankful for my post-cancer life, my post-cancer body, my post-cancer hair.
This morning I am feeling thankful for my life.
This morning I am feeling thankful for life.
This morning I am feeling thankful to God, for his care and his love.
This morning I give thanks to God. Like a child with a loving parent I am held in his loving arms.