this hand is bitterness

.

This hand is bitterness -- we want to taste it

let the hatred numb our sorrow

The wise hand opens slowly

to lilies of the valley -- and tomorrow.

from Natalie Grant's amazing {Held}

I never understood the concept of hatred drowning out sorrow. . .

never had any reason to contemplate that.

When you grow up in an incredible family

marry a gorgeous guy

live in a beautiful home

have friends you don't deserve

receive the gift of three perfect children. . .

. . .that kind of existence doesn't negate the obvious stresses of life, but it also doesn't lend itself to. . .

bitter tears

crushing pain

confusion in relationships

broken hearts

anger at people who don't understand

bewildering loneliness

frightening loss of reason and balance

I am struggling with forgiveness tonight. . .

It's oh so much easier to let hatred numb the sorrow.

Irrational anger at ones who don't understand. But how could they?

Frustration with carefree people. Carefree. What does that feel like again?

Fury directed at stuff that doesn't matter. Let's fixate on how annoying it is that Cambria threw sand in the pool and clogged the pool filter. If I can stay annoyed, maybe I won't feel the pulsating grief.

Not angry with God.

How could I be angry at the Giver of Gabe's life?

I have cried out to the silent heavens, standing by his little grave, God. . . . whhhhhhhhyyyyyyyy?

And those stories you hear of people who are so incredibly submissive to the will of God in the face of unspeakable tragedy?

Yeah, not us.

There was a lot of ER hallway wall pounding from Daniel -- God, no, no, no, no, God! A lot of screaming no, no, no, no, God from me {in pillows, in the car with the windows rolled up, into his little fire hat}.

I've told God that it's too hard.

I've told Him that I don't want to do this.

But I am not shaking my fist at my Heavenly Father.

People, on the other hand. . .

I need so much grace for relationships right now.

I am so weak.

My flesh is so strong.

It is so tempting to nurse bitterness.

To be slow to forgive.

To allow wounds to fester instead of heal.

To close my heart to anyone who is less than superhuman. Our friends & amazing family - yes, you guys - you are superhuman. {everyone can't be superhuman? what?}

Yuck.

God - can You drown out the bitterness. . .

the anger

the hatred

the wounds that seem too deep to heal?

You can heal.

You are way strong enough to fix our broken hearts.

You can supply the oil of forgiveness.

My cup is so empty, Lord.

There isn't anything in my heart left to give. . .

. . . but You are the Giver of Life.

You are also the Giver of Eternal Life.

I love You for that tonight - the promise of eternity with You.