Resentment

​The week after Dad passed was like a crashing train-I called out of all family gatherings, cancelled my counseling sessions, silenced my phone and tried to shut off mentally and emotionally. Though the funerals were over, my thoughts were just beginning.
 
I juggled feelings of loneliness, resentment, despair and failure. After Dad died, I’d looked forward to getting through the funeral so that I could just “think” but instead I found my own thoughts suffocating. I remember getting up the morning after the funeral and as I walked to the kitchen window I asked my best friend, “What am I supposed to do now” to which she responded “Nothing.” It was then that I realized that the road to healing wasn’t about me taking control of my life, it was about submitting all control to God.
 
I knew I had to submit my feelings cto God, but how?  I didn’t feel like being around people or even talking on the phone; I didn’t feel like reading the Bible; and I only felt like social media to mentally escape from my own reality.
 
 After a week of doing “nothing” my bestie and I decided to head to Miami for the holidays. I knew that my favorite holiday was coming and the last thing I wanted was to be home for Christmas. Christmas for our family was more than just a few minutes of exchanging gifts. Christmas for our family included multiple nights of social gatherings (mom loved entertaining);it was opening gifts on Dec 24th, so that we could spend Christmas Day celebrating Jesus without distraction; it was going to Lifeway  to get the perfect Christmas cards to send out; it was last minute shopping and a special dinner on the 26th in remembrance of my maternal grandfather's birthday. Having all of these rituals come to a sudden halt was something I just wasn't ready to embrace.

My time in Miami was well spent- I ate overpriced food, laid under an umbrella on the beach and for the first time since I can remember, I kept my phone off an entire night.
 
On Christmas night, I sat on our rooftop terrace (pictured above) overlooking the beautiful lights (everyone who knows me knows how much I love bright lights!). As I sat and prayed, I began to cry. “God, why?” I pleaded, “Why would you let this happen?” As tears streamed down my sun kissed skin, words began to pour off my lips. Words of anger, frustration and resentment flowed like a river as I poured my anguish on to God’s feet. I was angry with God and had been since Mom died, yet I had been too proud to tell God; I was too worried about being “wrong” or “sinful” but I had a bone to pick with God and it wasn’t until I was hundreds of feet in the air that I found the courage to pick the fight; the courage to submit my feelings to God.
 
On that rooftop, I learned that submitting my feelings to God was about humbling myself and exposing my hurt to Him; it was saying "GOD HELP!" and allowing Him to come into my heart to heal me. God wasn’t looking for my “perfectly polished” prayer, He was looking for my honesty, vulnerability and genuine desire for Him; He was looking for my "ugly cry face" ; the deep groan that came when I no longer had words to express my pain; and the focus of my eyes when I had no where else to look but towards a dark sky lit up by Miami lights. God wanted me and everything that I encompassed.
 
When I came down from the rooftop terrace, I went to sleep with the residue of damp tears lingering on my face and woke up with a spurt of energy that certainly caught me by surprise. While still in bed, I grabbed my calendar and started writing out plans God had for my life. This girl who hours prior couldn’t even think of the next day was suddenly enamored with the months to come. I can’t say I woke up filled with joy, but I was filled with the next best thing-EXPECTATION! God had a plan for me; God had a future for me. Psalm 30:5 reads, “Weeping may endure for night, but joy comes in the morning.” For the first time in months I felt like my morning was coming! I began to “smell” it; embrace it; and receive it.
 
When I lost my parents, I thought I’d lost my life; my future; my promise. But I now see that losing my parents only shifted me to better align me with God’s plan for my life. I am still on course, my destiny remains un-touched, and though not here in the flesh, my parents will always be with me on this journey called life.