I missed writing my post yesterday. I was traveling to MD and when I got there, I was TIRED! So instead of staying up til midnight writing, I decided that sleep was more important. I was thankful for the comfortable bed and I slept like a rock.
Today was the start of our road trip to Tennessee. Rebecca, Caleb and I packed ourselves into the car and started our journey. We are taking two days to get to our destination, which is manageable since Caleb is only 11 months old. He is an awesome little traveler having already made several cross country trips from their former home in Las Vegas to Connecticut. He even has his own passport – Keith, Rebecca, and Caleb went on a medical mission trip to Bolivia last Spring.
On this trip, I am the co-pilot. Caleb is in the back seat (facing backwards) and Rebecca is the driver. We are able to keep an eye on Caleb because of a mirror that is attached to the head rest for the back seat. And Caleb can see us in the mirror as well.
The mirror gets the job done. But it is not one I would use in my home. It distorts the images.
When I look at myself in Caleb’s mirror, my face is shaped a little bit different. And the longer I stare at it, the more I forget what I really look like.
One thing I’ve noticed in grief is that life feels weird. Every day is different. One day I am fine being out among people. The next day it is all I can do to dash into the grocery store for milk before the tears come. It makes me want to ask a whole lot of questions. One of the more perplexing ones is “who am I now?” I look into the mirror and I see someone who sort of looks like me but sort of doesn’t. Grief distorts my vision. And I try not to ask myself too many questions as there are so few answers. But what about the reflection? The more I look at it, the less I recognize myself.
I am so very fortunate to have family and friends who are able to remind me of who I am. People who really know me. Some for a short time, others for a lifetime. They help me to feel more grounded. And yet there is One who has always known me best:
O Lord, you have examined my heart
and know everything about me.
You know when I sit down or stand up.
You know my thoughts even when I’m far away.
You see me when I travel
and when I rest at home.
You know everything I do. You know what I am going to say
even before I say it, Lord.
You go before me and follow me.
You place your hand of blessing on my head. Psalm 139:1-5
This gives me hope. Even though Mike is no longer here – the one person who truly knew me, I am comforted in the realization that my God knows me even better than Mike ever could. So when I feel a bit “distorted”, I can take a deep breath and remember that I am known. And that someday all of my questions will have answers. And I will see all of this from a different perspective. And it will all become clear. And I am thankful for that.
Now we see things imperfectly, like puzzling reflections in a mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God now knows me completely. 1 Corinthians 13:12