Strength

     Last night I was driving to the store alone. I was feeling good. I had worked out in the morning and had just finished another workout that night. I drove into the parking lot and saw that they are getting things ready for flowers and  plants. Spring and summer. Out of nowhere came a grief burst. I quickly parked while the tears just kept coming. I heard myself telling Sterling how much I missed him and all the things I think he should be doing right now. I heard myself ask him how much longer we have to be apart.  That was when I stopped. I felt a calmness wash over me. A voice in my mind saying "my bubbas need you" and a feeling that  all is exactly as it was always meant to be.

     Something clicked in my soul. I go back and forth with my faith. I wish I could be the person who just knows things. The person who just believes. Before I held my beautiful baby's lifeless body in my arms I was that person. I believed all things happened for a reason. I believed in Heaven. I believed in prayer. I believed in miracles. All I had to do was look in the faces of my 6 beautiful children and I just knew without a doubt God existed and He was good.

     But to look into the face of my dead child. To cradle his swollen body in my arms for hours after he left it. To know what it feels like to have my hands leave imprints in his head and back. To not want to part with his body but to watch his fingers changing color hurt me so much I had to cover them up. To have to hand my baby, my baby who from 3 days old when he came home from the hospital had never spent a night away from me. I had to hand him over to a stranger. I had to come home without him.

     This made me begin to ask who would take a baby from his mother's arms while she prayed that her baby never leave her? Who does this? Who allows this? I hurt so much for so long. A pain unlike anything I have ever felt before. A pain so excruciating that I could not eat for weeks and not even feel it. A pain so severe that I would spend much of my day in the fetal position. A pain that not only hurt my mind and soul but that I physically felt in every inch of my body. I began to question how God could allow this? How? I began to wonder if God hated me. I began to wonder if I was being punished. Its hard to have faith when thinking this way.

     All the while I had people telling me how strong I was. All while I felt so weak. While I felt so unloved by God. People thought they were paying me a compliment. I know they meant well. But it felt so wrong to me. Even when working out with my trainer she would tell me how strong I was. It made me angry. I felt so weak. So broken. Not strong at all.

     Tonight I told her how I feel about that word. But as the words left my mouth and I listened to what she was telling me about my progress with her I realized its just a word. An accurate word for me. I am strong. I am a survivor. I am choosing to not just survive but to thrive again. A huge part of me died when Sterling did. Yet I am still here living. I am choosing to better myself. I am choosing to find joy again. I am choosing to find hope. I am choosing all of this while my soul is recovering from such an abrupt loss. I am strong!  Even when I feel so very weak.

     Who knew that working out, pushing my physical body would bring out such thoughts? I am pushing my physical limits in ways I never thought I could. But then again I never thought I could survive without Sterling. I have no idea where any of this is taking me. I am choosing to just enjoy the ride.