Capture Your Grief, Day 24: Choose Your Breath

September 9, 2014 | Home | Longview, Texas

Day 24: Choose Your Breath

Today's prompt is essentially about being intentional to mindfully grieve, sharing where you are in your grief process, and making no apologies about it. We are waiting. we are anxiously, faithfully, tragically, and desperately waiting. It's a monthly grief cycle in so many ways, having to go from hopeful to heartbroken in the three minutes it takes a test to process on a bathroom countertop. It's a cruel and unforgiving process both emotionally and physically as treatments fool my body into believing what it wants to. A process where I often conclude by kicking myself time and time again for ever allowing my heart to feel hopeful; but then trying to learn what faith still looks like amidst my unbelief. It's a process where each month I wonder if this will ever happen for us. It's a process of waiting. Some days I'm able to breathe deeply and thank God for what I'm learning in this season. I'm able to believe in my heart that there is a reason, there is a plan, and that we will cross the threshold of a new season in due time. Other days, days like today, I feel the bricks piled on my shoulders, the pressure on my chest, and the anxiety that plagues my heart. I feel the numbness of unbelief crawl like frost over everything in me, and all I can do is weep into Justin's arms while we both ask the same question, how much longer, lord? In scripture God's children waited years upon years upon years to see the answers of their prayers. Some waited decades, some a lifetime,  and some crossed to the other side of eternity never seeing the fruits of their faith harvested. I know and I understand the time we've waited is but a drop in a vapor that passes through this side of eternity, and I know that some day we will look back and believe every moment, every tear, every test, and every month was worth it. But today is not that day. Today my heart is heavy as we conclude another month of medications, appointments, phone calls, and tests with no good news. Today I sit full of questions and unbelief. And though I know in my heart that this is not the place that I'll remain, today I wait, today this is where I am.

“I believe; help my unbelief!”
Mark 9:24