Normal

Grief tonight is my soccer team going 0-8 for the season with a goal differential of 56-10. That hurts. I certainly could have had a better season. Oh well.

Another picture of grief is my two-year-old not sleeping during nap time the last two days. You can just picture the grief on Julie’s face; I didn’t have to. I’m guessing I am part of the problem. I’ve been off work for most of the month of May which means almost everyday is Saturday. And Saturday’s are great when they only occur once a week, but now Julie and I are little bit confused. Alyssa might be as well.

That is the hardest part of all this. What the heck is normal supposed to look like? Is normal merely a daily routine that you get up and complete without incident or real exertion? Is it trying to go back to the way things were before he Noah was born? I am not sure that is even possible or desired. I know I have been changed by this experience, but it pains me to think that we might slide right back into the old routine before Noah was born. Noah’s life should mean more to me. It should change my life. Things should be different in some profound way, and somehow it doesn’t really feel like it. But why not? I know that I have tendency to be short sighted and like most people do not want to for God to reveal his full plan. I think time will only reveal the path that God has laid before us.

So what happens in the meantime when I go back to work and things return to “normal”? Julie and I anticipated for so long the change that a new baby would bring. New adventures, new opportunities to learn and teach. Someone else for Alyssa to play with. I think Julie and I both agree that life with siblings leads to a richer and fuller experience, and we are saddened for Alyssa. We hurt when she says she misses Noah, and that she loves him. Such a sweet child that it breaks my heart that she might have to wait for those experiences. Oh how I long for the new normal we anticipated.

So maybe normal will just have to reshape itself everyday. Lord we are clay and you are potter. Maybe God will continue to mold us back to normal. I suppose that’s what I really want… to feel normal. Lord, today I need to believe your words from Ephesians 1:11-12 “In him we were also chosen, having been predestined according to the plan of him who works out everything in conformity with the purpose of his will, in order that we, who were the first to hope in Christ, might be for the praise of his glory.” – Ethan

7 thoughts on “Normal

  1. Having been through something similar, I remember how guilty I felt wanting things to be normal…and even feeling guilty that I was glad things were in a strange sort of way back to normal…as if I was somehow spared of a much more complicated situation. God has shown me peace and is removing the guilt of these feelings…allowing me to rest in His plan, His timing, His purpose. And in time God is helping me find ways to smile again, rejoice again, even laugh uncontrollably again. Thank you for sharing your thoughts. It’s helping me understand mine.

  2. Ethan,

    When my mother died, I remember feeling and thinking that the fact that life was continuing on was the saddest part of her death. She was my mother. She had lived for 65 years. Was part of the church…worked in the community. When she died, we sorted through her things, kept what we could, and had a garage sale. Then, “life went on.”

    It seemed/seems a great injustice that a life can pass, and the world — especially MY world –continued. I wanted the world to stop and recognize the significance of that for longer than just the day of the funeral. I wanted the world to recognize the value of LIFE and mourn the fact that someone had lost theirs. And, if the world wasn’t going to stop, it seemed MINE SHOULD. But the world did not stop, and neither did mine. In that was a part of my grieving.

    Perhaps though, that is part of the resilience that God grants us, or part of the natural defenses which help us cope and survive the loss. Perhaps part of moving through grief is learning how to embrace the fact of our loss while embracing life at the same time.

    I pray that Jesus will make Himself known to you as your family begins this journey through grief. I pray that He will grant you stamina and patience to walk, day after day, until the pieces finally begin to come together in a way that makes sense and is manageble. I pray He reminds you of His love, and surrounds you with those who are His.

    In His Hand,
    Beverly McCallon

  3. Ehtan and Julie
    I pray for you as you search for normal. I love you guys and think about you often.
    Monica

  4. Althought few may comment, many continue to check in daily and pray for the family. We go about our daily “normal” routine but none will be truly normal again. Noah has left his mark on us all and changed us forever. And for that we give thanks. We will continue to pray for you and the family as God works His plan.

  5. yes – there are many who continue to pray for your family. and who come to see how a faith in Jesus can overcome even the hardest of ordeals. continue to seek His peace and please continue to help many others see how awesome our Lord is – even through something as this.

  6. you do not do a diservice to your son’s life and your memories of his short life by getting back to normal. others on the outside looking in may not realize you’ve lost a son and are grieving right now, but so many of your christian brothers and sisters do. if your life over time returns to “normal”…don’t worry. we still remember him. and we always will.

  7. Dear Ones,
    All of us who love you are no longer in the “normal” which was ours before Noah. We, too, couldn’t wait for the exciting days ahead for your family with Noah and our hearts also grieve that it was not to be. That was also our picture of life for you. God has another picture for your family which He is helping you work toward seeing every moment of every long day and night. Included in my numerous and daily prayers for you is that you will know and somehow feel our struggle & deep desire to be of help to you. We feel so helpless, but hope that through us in some small way (oh, that it were a giant way!)you can be comforted and your pain eased as you continue to find a “new normal” and that each day you will see a glimpse of it to hold on to.
    I love you,
    C.

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