“When deep in the storm of grief, your faith is just like breathing, its the only thing that keeps you going.”
This morning I received a private message from a dear friend containing these words – I gasped and burst into tears because of how true these words are and because of how much I needed to hear those beautiful words at that precise moment.
Living with Leah’s illness was like being on a roller coaster that ducked and dived unpredictably and at high speed.
Living with grief is like being at sea in a sailing ship. There are times when that ship docks in pleasant places and for a few hours I can smile and laugh and enjoy the company of others. Then the ship sets sail on the high seas once more.
I can never tell when a storm of grief will arise or from what direction, but suddenly and at times with little warning, my ship is engulfed. In those times it’s tempting to ask “Will I ever see the shore again?” or “How many storms can a ship withstand?”
Sometimes I get by with the help of a useful phrase from another dear friend “Right foot, left foot, breathe.” – I find it a useful one for when I am physically in a place that I find emotionally difficult, such as walking down long corridors on hospital visits or when I’m in Tesco’s and Leah’s favourite snack is being promoted on special offer. It enables me to get back to my car or to some other private place – like the disabled toilets – before I have to give full vent to my emotions.
I discovered the song “It Is Well” by Bethel Music from their “You Make Me Brave” album last week. It has remained on “repeat song” mode on my phone ever since as it’s words just speak to me so very deeply:
“Through it all, through it all
My eyes are on You
Through it all, through it all
It is well
So let go my soul and trust in Him
The waves and wind still know His name”