Today I had two experiences that gave me some perspective in this process of loss and grief, both of which came through my sweet baby Isaac. I’m so grateful to be his mama and for all the ways he is teaching me in this parenting journey.
The first came this afternoon when Tom was watering our plants. Recently we went to Highland Gardens, one of our favorite stores, and purchased our herb plants for this season (among other things – we seriously love it there). We’re starting with two basil, a parsley, a rosemary, and some cilantro – delicious! The weather was beautiful the day we bought them, but it’s since been cold and even freezing so we’ve had them inside. As Tom was watering them this afternoon with a spray bottle, Isaac asked if he could help. He absolutely loves being given little jobs and helping out around the house. Oh, how I wish his love for chores would stick as he grew up.
Tom gave him the water bottle and he started to spray the little plants. As he did though, Tom realized he was only spraying the leaves but not the dirt where the roots were. He corrected Isaac, and our sweet boy’s watering skills were improved. And that’s when it hit me – because I feel like I’m learning so many lessons these days through simple, everyday experiences, especially when it comes to nature. By only spraying the leaves, the plant may think it’s been watered, and may look like it’s been watered, but unless we actually sprayed the dirt and watered the roots, none of that would matter.
When it comes to my grief, I think it’s the same. Unless I’m actually getting to the deep roots of the emotions and pain, instead of simply responding to them or just “watering the leaves” then I’m not really healing. I’m not really growing and progressing. And eventually I may even “dry up” and be left with nothing at all. Even though the dirt isn’t the pretty part of the plant, especially when compared to the beautiful green leaves, it’s where all the work is happening. It’s where our little plants are growing and strengthening themselves to keep bearing their delicious aromatics. The dirt is where it’s at, not just the leaves. I think it’s the same with my faith. Well, I know it is. It really just all goes together and I appreciated being reminded that our efforts in everything, especially the most important things, need to be root-deep.
The second experience came during the babies’ afternoon nap. Isaac has been less and less inclined to take naps recently, but he is willing to sit in his room and have quiet time, which essentially consists of reading books until he (sometimes) falls asleep. Usually quiet time for him is around an hour, and Zoey naps for about two. Today, however, he started calling out after about five minutes asking me to come get him. I went downstairs and he said, “Mommy, I had good quiet time! Are you getting me up?”
Realizing it had only been five minutes and not nearly long enough, I explained that he needed to stay in his room a little longer. He didn’t seem to understand, thinking that somehow it had been long enough and it was time to get up. This made me think of my own life and how often I am the toddler to our Heavenly Parents. (Honestly, I think I’ve learned more about our Heavenly Parents in the three years I’ve been a parent myself than I ever did in my 37 years alone.)
Sometimes I want this grief journey to end right now. Like, I’ve been in it long enough and it’s time to get up. Surely it’s been long enough, Heavenly Father. Aren’t you here to get me up?
But just like I understand time differently than Isaac and knew that his little body and mind could benefit from a few more minutes of quiet time and a nap, our Heavenly Parents know me well enough to recognize the growth I have the potential to achieve by sitting with my grief a little longer. A little bit deeper. And always according to Their timeframe and not mine.
I hope Isaac trusts me to know that I’ll only ever do what’s best for him. Even when it’s something he doesn’t enjoy, like sitting for an hour of quiet time or taking a nap, I wouldn’t make him do it if I didn’t think he would somehow benefit. And that’s absolutely something I’ve had rooted even deeper in my heart and mind again and again about our Heavenly Parents. They wouldn’t have me do something, especially something as painful as losing my son, if They didn’t think it would somehow be for my benefit. I believe that. I trust that. So with that, I’ll sit in my grief until it’s time to get up. And along the way, I’ll try to heal and move forward and have faith that somehow it’s all for my good.
This is one of my favorite scriptures:
“And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.” Romans 8:28
I think when I’ve read this in the past, I’ve assumed it meant that everything will lead to happiness. But sometimes good, in God’s sense, is even better than happiness. And sometimes it takes what feels like the opposite of happiness to get there. But we will always get there if we trust in Him and what this scripture says. As our perfect, Heavenly Parent, He will work everything together for our good if we love Him. That gives me so much hope. Because I do love Him. I do trust Him. So even though this grief journey feels long and I’m ready to wake up, I know His perspective is greater than mine and I’m really, really thankful for that.
Every day I’m learning and growing through this experience, and I’m glad that it’s slowly but surely starting to feel bearable. I’m grateful that the Lord trusted me enough to be Benny’s earthly mama, and I’m even more grateful that He trusted me enough to somehow hold it together when Benny’s earthly life ended. I appreciate the little lessons I’m able to see every day, through small and simple things, that help me have perspective and remind me to keep going. Whether it’s watering plants or waking up Isaac from quiet time, there’s something to be learned nearly each and every moment of the day. And hopefully like our delicious herb plants, I’m able to soak up as much of it as I can.
Love this!