I am writing right now with the extreme background noise of 2 kids half playing, half fighting.
Please forgive me if this post becomes rather disjointed.
Where I am today…. I am not sure. I am much calmer than this weekend. Still dealing with depression for sure.
My friend Cindy, helped me talk through things some this weekend (and did a couple of incredible posts yesterday). As we talked and emailed back and forth, she made a few comments and asked some questions that helped me start to pinpoint something that has been bothering, niggling at the back of my mind, that I just didn’t realize consciously until now.
I feel dumb saying it even.
But I am dealing with losing my counselor, Tricia.
I mean, she didn’t die or anything, but I feel like it almost.
We went through so much together during our time of counseling. I prayed for her, I know she prayed for me. She asked questions that prompted me to press on into greater healing. But it was more than that, to me at least.
She really became a friend. By the end of our time together, I really did consider her a friend. As much as I consider Cindy a dear friend and sister, Tricia was my friend and sister as well. A sister in Christ, a friend who would listen and help me and encourage me, and push me to do what God wanted me to. She has great wisdom, I know given to her by God, great passion for helping see people come into freedom, healing and wholeness. She has a great love for God, a passion to follow Him, and it shows in her every interaction. She has a big heart, filled with compassion.
She wouldn’t be a good counselor without these things.
These things also won her a place in my heart as a friend.
I understand, intellectually that there has to be a break so that I don’t “depend” on her when I need to learn to stand on my own with God. But just as Cindy has come alongside me during this time, and also given great wisdom, counsel and love, so did Tricia. My heart says that Tricia is as much of a friend to me as Cindy is.
With Cindy I am able to call her and share some insights that I have learned or struggles I am having, and give and receive help. I can encourage Cindy and get together for a cup of coffee or a meal, and enjoy fellowship with her. We can share things that we have been learning from God, from books we are reading, anything like that.
I used to be able to do that with Tricia. I used to make note of something that I read, or that I felt God telling me, and save it to share with her. I can’t do that anymore. That avenue has been cut off to me.
I feel like there has been a death.
I guess there has been. The death, however long or short it might be till I see her again, of my friendship with Tricia.
Cindy told me of some things that happened with her and her husband after her husband’s mother died. It sounded familiar to me.
They would find out good or bad news and realize they couldn’t just pick up the phone.
They missed her and realized they couldn’t get in the car and drive to see her.
They would read something, or want her prayers.
They would want to pray for her.
They would just want to connect, even briefly.
But she was gone, out of their reach. Though they will see her in heaven, they can’t see her anymore on this earth.
That’s what it feels like to me. Because we have to stay separate, for a time at least now that counseling is finished, Tricia and I can have no real contact… not talking together type of contact. And God reminded me of something yesterday afternoon. What is the guarantee that we will even see each other once that time frame is over? God could call one of us home before then. Or call us to a different city, state, whatever, and we might never get in contact with each other.
I am grieving.
I can’t help it. By stuffing it, I have been causing myself more depression and hurt.
I also was fighting God on it. I felt Him speaking directly to my heart yesterday.
I could see myself back in His lap, in the lap of Jesus. And He reached His nail-scarred hands into that box and pulled out a big jagged piece of my heart. I cringed as I saw He meant to put it, heal it, into the living flesh of my heart. I knew how raw skin against that piece would feel. I didn’t want it.
I turned my face away, in my heart telling Him no. I pressed my face against His chest, ashamed at my fear, ashamed at my refusal.
He gently reminded me that healing comes with a price. There is pain in healing. But there is relief from pain. He reminded me of when I had my c-section with my daughter. The pain I had after that surgery. The pain reminded me that my body was doing what it needed to, to heal, and reminded me of something else. Something much more precious. I had my daughter in my arms, not in my womb anymore. I could see her, hold her, touch her, and rejoice in the relationship I could now have with her.
But it took pain to get there.
So, am I willing to face that pain now?
I am going to try.
I am heading up to the church, hopefully within the next half hour, to spend some time with God and try to allow Him to heal that piece into place in my heart… to allow myself to really grieve through the loss of a friendship. I know that it will be a long process, not a one time thing, but I need this one time thing to get me started.
Please pray for me that I will be able to let go and let God.
And then I will have a precious treasure, something that I can rejoice over. I can rejoice in the relationship that I had with Tricia. Maybe soon I will be able to rejoice that I will see her again, hopefully in this life, but if not, in the one to come.
Right now, I am still filled with tears and sadness.
I know that no one can say what is ok to grieve and what isn’t, or if anything is too little to grieve over. I still feel like some won’t understand why this is such a big thing for me…
But there it is.
And I know that I need to be on my face before God and surrender to His healing hands.
Pain, and hopefully healing.