God was Like, Watch Me - episode 171
What happens when you don’t want the change that’s coming? That’s how it was for Aubrey Leisz. Her husband of 10 years wanted out of the marriage but she didn’t. She fought the good fight for the sake of their three daughters to no avail. Aubrey has had to gather strength she didn’t know she had to navigate the biggest change so far. And with three impressionable girls watching.
During her grief she watched God gather together a group of people, from the different corners of her life, who had her back. They showed up and loved. She, and her girls were being looked after in the most tender of ways. Receiving wasn’t so easy at first but now she gets why it is so necessary to allow others to care. Aubrey learned you need to ask.
Strong. Compassionate. Overzealous.
— Aubrey Liesz
I Will Offer My Hand
Thoughts from God was Like, Watch Me
There simply is nothing like grief. It is all consuming, obsessive and devastating. Physically, emotionally and mentally. And yet. And yet. As Aubrey pointed out, Nothing bad lasts forever. Thank God. You could not stay in that state for very long. There is hope and that is what we cling to. I chose to include some thoughts about grief written many years ago. Yes, it’s an excerpt from Standing Tall. Let me know if it resonates with you.
Grief is like a long valley, a winding valley where any bend may reveal a totally new landscape. ...Not every bend does. Sometimes the surprise is the opposite one; you are presented with exactly the same sort of country you thought you had left behind miles ago. That is when you wonder whether the valley isn’t a circular trench. But it isn’t. There are recurrences, but the sequence doesn’t repeat. C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed
Grief is repetitive. There is no doubt. It is arduous, long-suffering and wrought with the kind of raw human emotion no one wants to feel. But you have to feel it because there are no shortcuts, no substitutes. If you try to go around it will come back and bite you. Best to go straight through it with a box of tissue, a loved one’s hand, and breath held if need be. There is healing all along the way even though it doesn’t always feel like it. The journey of grief itself is healing. However, there is no destination. There is no end to the loss. It just changes over time. The tears aren’t as quick to come. The joy remains. And that is a gift.
My grief would be entirely different without my faith. I imagine a bitterness and an ugliness would have set in by now coupled with a deep depression and an unshaken hopelessness. Instead I rest in the knowledge of a God who loves me unceasingly to the point where all things are possible through Him. Even getting to be with my son again. Yes, especially that.
The gift of His grace has allowed me to endure the heartbreak of Christian’s death. I credit the endless power and strength of God in blessing me with the will to continue on as best as possible. I have to continue, and not just go through the motions, but stand tall so that those around might see the wonder of the Lord. But by the grace of God I am what I am...yet not I but the grace of God with me. I Corinthians 15:10
Looking back, I tried out many new theories on my journey in grief. I must say some of them felt very comforting, giving me a well-deserved sense of peace that I longed for. There are still a lot of things I haven’t figured out for sure, in regards to specifically what I believe. I have been introduced to many new ideas and I’m not really sure which ones are right. I have decided that it is not important if I get it all figured out or not. The important thing is love. If I can stick to that as much as possible the rest will work out. That’s where faith and hope come in.
I do believe there are divine signs and messages in our everyday lives that if we don’t open ourselves up to can be easily missed. On the anniversary date of Christian’s death we took the children to the mountains as I had made it known to Ron I did not want to be in town on that day. I woke up that morning teary. I asked Ron if we could keep the significance of the day to ourselves. He agreed. As we were all on the mountain getting ready to start skiing down, Shaun noticed a magnificent rainbow which he called our attention to. The amazing thing was the sky was blue. It had not rained, was not threatening to rain. There were a few little wisps of white clouds in the sky but nothing substantial. And yet there it was. A light. Golden, big and round like a flashlight shining against a wall. All the way around the edge of the golden light were the rainbow colors. We all marveled at the sight. Ron, knowingly, looked at me and my eyes filled. A short time later we noticed a small, perfectly round rainbow in the sky. It was so sweet looking. Ron called it a rainbow ball because that is exactly what it looked like. I took these glorious signs in the sky as clear messages of the presence of God, and His remembrance of my love for Christian.
I have always known that one of the ways I would keep Christian’s love alive would be to reach out to another parent when they would have to experience the agony of losing a child. In the past few months I had begun to wonder when I would be called upon to share what I knew, to express my faith, and to be a shoulder to lean on.
I got a call from a dear friend yesterday who asked if I would call one of the moms at her son’s school. The woman is in her sixth month of pregnancy and her growing baby has been diagnosed with a very rare bone-development disorder which will prove fatal within a day or so of birth. I did not know such a thing was possible any more than I knew the left side of the heart might not ever really develop into something that functions normally. Regardless of the diagnosis, the outcome is the same. She will have to endure the pain and suffering of carrying a child that will not live long, just like I did.
This woman has been on my mind. She and her family have been in my prayers. I have run over in my mind all the many things I have learned these past couple of years and wondered how I should talk with her. Then I realized that I cannot predict how my contact with her will go so I have decided I will pray to be guided, that my words will somehow help her to stand tall. And then I will offer my hand.
There are divine signs and messages in our everyday lives, that if we don’t open ourselves up, can be easily missed.
— RCN
