Chasing Butterflies

(I wrote this sometime last year. Not sure why I never published it.  I thought, "Well, why not now?" So, there you have it. :-D)

I apologize, dear readers, if this blog has become a bit dreary. I never intended it to be an invitation to join me on a journey of life or an indulgence of my opinions. I meant it to be the whimsical rantings of a silly mind. I actually thought of closing the blog all together, but, after quite the hiatus, decided to write at least one more time.

Now, you know I always seem to write as a result of some epiphany or resolution. Somehow, tapping it out on my little keyboard makes my superfluous thoughts feel a bit more bona fide. Of course, this time is no different. So, here we go (you know the routine):

Act 1 "The Confession"
In this past year, I have come to, what I consider, a rather brilliant conclusion: Grieving is a nasty business. Something we were never created to have to endure. Of course, our loving Father makes us equal to any trial. But that doesn't change the fact that it does horrible things to the brain. For the past year, I've felt a bit numb. Which I know, from everything I've read and heard, is quite normal. But at some point it seems a reasonable expectation to begin feeling 'something' again, right? Even though I am doing much better, for the past few months I've felt like I've been chasing butterflies. Reaching to enjoy some of the beautiful things I used to love, only to have that sense of enjoyment elude me. I reach and I reach, but it's just not the same. What is wrong with me?

Act 2 "The Epiphany"
So, I was discussing this conundrum with my Mom. My gentle, sweet, wise, and steady Mom. (I love her to pieces.) I told her everything I just mentioned above. And of course, me, in my little cone of self-pity (similar to the cone of silence, only with much more pouting), imagined a very specific outcome.... a big hug from mom, followed by, "There, there, everything will be alright." Nope, instead I was shot a look of absolute bewilderment. (Ummm...where's my hug?) This is what she then said, "I have no idea what you are talking about. 'Not feel anything?' How can you say that? What do you call it when you are impassioned for the welfare of the congregation? Is that not emotion? Or how you light up when Iley says your name? Is that 'numb'?". Hmmm.... that didn't quite go as I expected it. Actually, it went much better...

Act 3 "The Resolution"
I couldn't sleep last night (too much cold medicine), so I finally had some time to stop and really think about what she said. Maybe it isn't that I don't enjoy life, or feel strongly about things. Maybe it is simply that I now enjoy and feel strongly about different things. In an effort to 'move on' I've been groping to get back to my 'old self'. When in reality, perhaps part of 'my old self' don't exist anymore. I am coming to realize that when I said goodbye to Dad, I said goodbye to a part of myself too. The part of myself that was whimsical and carefree, naively convinced that true sorrow would never touch me. Reality has set in... Experience changes us, whether we give it permission to or not.

My Mom was absolutely right. My old self is back, I was just looking for her in the wrong places. And this in itself is a wonderful thought. It doesn't have to follow that experience changes us for the worse, though it certainly can if we let it. It's true, we often have little control over the experience that precedes change, and this can leave us feeling helpless. This sense of helplessness can cause us to lash out like a wounded animal, and leave an open wound where bitterness can fester. But, ah! this is where we do have a measure of control. How will I choose to respond? Jehovah promises that "the peace of God that excels all thought will guard YOUR hearts and YOUR mental powers" (Philippians 4:7). That peace doesn't shield us from the realities of this old world, but it can guard us in precious ways. The scar is still new, and it will be a while before all the feeling is back. But gone is my old awkward feeling when others are enduring hardship. I no longer fear not knowing the right thing to say. I now know that to say something, anything, is far more important. Gone are the days of allowing trifles to ruin my day. Each moment we have to live and to serve Jehovah is a gift, nothing can dampen that.   A man named William Arthur Ward once said, "Change, like sunshine, can be a friend or a foe, a blessing or a curse, a dawn or a dusk." You know what? I think he was right. I'm finally coming out of my cocoon. I'm done chasing butterflies. I don't know... maybe I am one. A moth, perhaps? :-)