weeping, wailing, and throwing punches...and proud of it

Recently, I had another moment in the garden, me vs. the weeds, except this time, it wasn't a garden, it was a deserted parking lot late at night, and it was my steering wheel that caught the brunt of my rage. Sitting in my car, doors locked, lights off, CD of "Laurie songs" playing loudly, so loudly that I could barely hear my screams.

Right at this moment, my eyes fill with tears, because I can still taste the wail in my throat. That guttural wail of absolute brokenness, like your damaged heart itself is trying to escape it's cage via your lips. It's the kind that you cannot control, it is not so much a sob as it is you... the very core of you, the ugliest, dirtiest, most pain-saturated part of you, and it is desperately and forcibly making it's way out into the world.

There are so many ways that I am healing, and getting better, perhaps even better than I was when she was here. There are parts of Katie that are coming to the surface and blossoming. There are things that God has uniquely blessed me with, things that are completely and totally Katie and Katie alone, that are showing up on the outside of me, released from the bottle I have stuffed them in for so very long. There are pieces of Katie that are good, very, very good.

But along with that, there is the sense of "I-still-miss-her-more-than-I-even-want-to-think-about." There is a ache with every beat of my heart, an ache for my sister. A desperate, wailing ache.

And that is where I am.

I have bruises on my hands where I pounded on my dashboard. I have puffy eyes. I have astonishing people in my life who are reaching out to me every day, praying me through the grit. I have a Father who is using all sorts of tools to show up for me, songs that tell me I am "held," books that tell me "I hope you realize how much your family, your friends, your church, your community, and this world need you. Don't allow who you truly are to be lost, buried, or devalued...what is most truly you matters." I have a sense that it is okay for me to be in the exact place that I am, in my grief, in my growth, in me...even if that place is somewhere between "full of hope" and "hopeless."

Where are you? How is your garden, your parked car, your pillow to scream into? How is your journal, your diary, your blog, your safe place to express your ups and downs, no matter how ginormous or petty? Has someone told you today "I hope you realize how much your family, your friends, your church, your community, and this world need you. Don't allow who you truly are to be lost, buried, or devalued...what is most truly you matters"? May I tell you?

I hope you realize how much your family, your friends, your church, your community, and this world need you. Don't allow who you truly are to be lost, buried, or devalued...what is most truly you matters.