The Abundant(ly Complex and Complete) Life

Will it get old if I start every blog post by telling you how grateful I am for you? It is deeply humbling to watch the way our sweet friends and family have continued to minister to us. This weekend, my sister visited the city where Hyrum attended his clinical trial in California. She sent me a picture with two of my sweet CA friends, and I honestly cried just looking at their faces... Because it reminded me how many of you have stepped up to be direct conduits of God's love for me. People I didn't even know. People who are carrying their own heavy burdens. People like you. 

We are home again in Oklahoma. It's 9 weeks since Hyrum died. And we are... all the things. We are busy. We are joyful. We are hurting. Against all odds, we are functioning!! I've been cooking and cleaning and playing. The kids are sleeping in their own beds again. We're back to regular church assignments, and it's lovely to have space (mental, physical, & emotional) to serve and help again. Michael is relishing some "new" in our very familiar setting, and he started a new remote job today. I love that man. 

Grief is working its way through every part of me, constantly surprising me with its new iterations. Unpredictably, it runs through my body: all-day lethargy or adrenaline, an ever-so-slightly receding hairline (funny but also NOT lol). It seeps through my brain: sporadic nightmares and stress-responses to small triggers like fresh strawberries in my fridge. Those moments come and go. But ALWAYS, grief spurs many feelings: surplus compassion, quiet sadness, a hunger for joyful living. 

The depth and breadth of feeling I'm experiencing now is unlike anything I've ever known. That hunger? Because of it, I AM living joyfully. I wake early. I study. I pray. There's pickleball, dance class, the city volleyball league. We visit and host countless neighbors and friends. I give lots of long, hard hugs. We meet up with friends at parks, do an RV camping trip, join in book clubs, eat good snacks. I take hot showers and have long, hot cries. I rest and clean and pray. We are feeling joy. 

And every time I go to God with grief's array of wounds, I feel Him reassuring me "You can be ALL of this." Be joyful, yes. Be sad. Be wounded, fragile, real, AND full of power, love, and light. After all, isn't God Alpha AND Omega? The beginning AND the end? He who is and was and is to come? (Rev. 1:8) I think this is sustainable- this grief, this joy, this love. The details still feel new, like just how much to share with strangers, how to craft a changed day's plan, how to balance hurt with healing, how to honestly use time. I've already flipped through many other "How to" questions, and I've felt many tender answers as I study Jesus Christ. He has nudged me to read scripture and read up on trauma, too. He empowers me and also lets me need some helpers, too. 

We miss Hyrum. So much. But we are living a good life. An abundant one (John 10:10). We know Hyrum is, too.