“This is my life.”

I’ve found this phrase floating through my mind a great deal recently.  With every twinge of pain I’ve been hearing the words, This is my life.

Sadly, it is not a statement of enthusiasm.  But the words are good for me nonetheless.

Seeing as Judson died four years ago this Monday some may find this unhealthy or strange, but I think I am just now beginning to truly accept the sobering reality that this is my life, to begin to embrace it rather than object to it.

I have spent much of the last four years as an observer, seeing and feeling all the holes in my heart that have resulted from losing my Jud Bud; this is a natural part of grief.  But rather than simply remembering what my life was like before the upheaval of my world, I have continued in longing, longing for something other than what is now my reality.  My thoughts have been filled with an insatiable yearning for what was or what could have been, rather than an acceptance of what is. I have wanted to go back to that life, my previous life.  But my pining, however natural it may be, at some point must start to fade.

This is my life.  This is my life now.

This is the path I have been given.  This is the road I am on.  I don’t have the ability to alter the defining moments of my past.  I don’t have the power to bring back my son.  I don’t have the option to change all the personal and relational ramifications of my loss.

This is my life.

And I need to not only recognize this life as my own, but say yes to it when my heart has been crying no for so long.  This does not mean that I cannot continue to grieve my boy, but as I accept this life, including all the pain, I trust I can grow in my ability to live well.  I might become more open to discover the unique gifts I have been given through this journey.   My eyes might see with more clarity from the perspective provided me.  I might even grow in my trust of God’s goodness for my life, this life.

Moreover, maybe one day I just might grow to actually love this life, my life, once again, to the point where the statement, This is my life, could, in fact, be met with great enthusiasm even when it is entangled with great pain.

This is my life.  I am slowly, very slowly, learning to embrace it.

Author: Christina