Making My Way

It’s Tuesday. Here I sit, making my way in the world. My schedule is periodically hectic, but lately, it’s been rather slow. I guess it’s nice though, to have some time to get my thoughts together and plan my next life-changing project. It seems that I’m just starting to get my creativity back.

Artists and writers call it different things. I’ve just called it 'the funk I’ve been in.’ It started about a year ago when things seemed to be looking up. I had a relatively new Job. Shelly decided to stay home for a while with our Daughter...and we had a new baby on the way. She was about 13 weeks pregnant. I was writing consistently…journaling, which I don’t do a lot of, but I had just started. Things were going really well when the ‘emotional bottom’ fell out.

Shelly noticed something wasn’t right. After going to the doctor we realized that we had miscarried at 14 weeks. We were stunned. There is a scene that happens in some war movies when a bomb goes off near a soldier. He is thrown some distance, but he’s still alive. Only everything is disoriented. He can’t hear. He can’t see well. He’s obviously hurt, but is still trying to go…somewhere. That’s exactly what I felt like.

They always say that people, suffering from shock, tend to focus heavily on one thing. I stopped by a traffic accident once and the lady, obviously in shock, kept asking me to get the keys out of her car. “Get the keys out of the car! Get the keys out of the car!” I got them and gave them to her and she just sat there, not knowing what else to do.

I guess my ‘thing’ was that I stopped creating. Almost completely. Creativity was the farthest thing from my mind. What kept me going was the fact that through it all one of my best friends would sit and talk with me. He didn’t want anything, except what was best for me. He would just sit, sometimes talk, but mostly listen. It is because of this that our friendship went to a whole new place. That’s one thing that allows me today, to continue to make my way in the world - because my friend decided to be Jesus instead of himself. (Actually, God allowed him to do both.)

For now…the ringing has died down…a little. I think I’ve seen a few positives come out of this. Although, I still think about our child, but know that I’ll never understand why he/she was taken away. I just have to go on making my way, and trusting that God’s going to make the best of it.