I wrote some promotional material for a women’s ministry yesterday, and I ended the promo with the tagline, “Can I get a witness?” I’ve thought about that phrase all day.
I talk a lot about grief, and the importance of standing in witness of our own grief as well as the grief of others.
It’s important. It matters.
But recently I told a trusted confidant that I haven’t been writing as much about grief. “No one really wants to hear it.” He responded with, “Connie, remember who your audience is.”
I know my “audience” is widows. I understand that my wrestling out this grief here on my blog has given many of them voice. They get it. They feel it. They just can’t always put it into words. Words don’t come easy for all of us. I seem to have more than my share.
But a part of me fights back against that statement because I want to normalize grief for the masses.
My thoughts are just forming as I type and this may read more like a journal entry than a blog post, but here we go…
Can I get a witness?
It’s been 2 years and 10 months since I lost my husband. Or a lifetime? It’s hard to discern.
I have a good life. I am blessed. And yet…
I still feel the chasm of his loss every single day. The loneliness just about eats me alive. I dine with friends and family; I work in ministry with some wonderful people; I travel with kindred spirits; God continues to show up in big ways.
And yet… the solitude is ravenous.
And yet… I often push people away.
The push and pull of grief. It’s crazy and doesn’t make sense. But grief has no rules and follows no leader.
I pull and then I push. I know it. I see it. I feel it. And yet…
Sometimes it’s just easier to be alone.
That statement worries and alarms my counselor. It doesn’t worry me. Not yet anyways. My grief journey is still young; I’m just getting started here. I think there is a learning curve involved — for everyone. The masses?
If you’re still here, thank you.
I needed your witness today.