Day 151 - Pit of grief

I am still feeling sad and frustrated that Brody did not get into the new charter school (it was a lottery in case I never mentioned that). Of course I know that he already goes to a great school, that public teachers are wonderful and that God might have other plans for me, but as a mother you want what you feel is best for your children and you will keep trying to get that no matter what. What I want for my children has nothing to do with anyone else and I am not giving up. Yes, God may have completely different plans for us that do not include this school and I will be okay with that, or He may just be saying, "not yet." Either way no one will know until we look back in the rearview mirror.

The way I have been feeling about our finances and not getting into the charter school and some of the things people said have made me think about something else that has been on my mind lately. Last week in church the pastor spoke about talking to your children. He said that they will approach you at least once with a really difficult experience. No matter how we feel about that experience, we must either empathize with them so they will trust us again to share how they feel, or just be there to listen. We do not always need to have an opinion about everything. There is no better way to send your kids running to the hills when you lecture them about something that is tearing their world apart. This topic hits home for me because I do have a very strong opinion. It is just my nature to comment about everything; ask my husband. But, ever since I watched and listened to my friend's grief after she lost her husband to cancer, I saw that what people really need is for you to listen. Most of the things people said to her, while meant with good intention, were far from helpful or comforting. I read this passage in a book this week and it made me think of her:

"And nothing that anyone could say seemed to help....It angered me that people might think that some pat little Christian phrase would quench the inferno of my grief. At other times, I realized people meant well and, mainly, spoke wounding words because they didn't know what else to say. There were just a couple of people who did know what to say: "I can't even imagine how you must be feeling, but I want you to know that I love you." Those were the people who climbed down with me into the pit of my grief and stayed with me. But the grief pit is a pretty nasty, slimy place, and most people don't want to get down in it."

- from What Difference do it Make? Stories of Hope and Healing

It's not easy, but I want to be the person who gets in "the pit" with people. Just last week a friend shared a heartache she was going through and I couldn't talk fast enough with comments on her situation. I'm pretty sure she didn't ask me what I thought. Funny, how we do that. In our situation as things have gotten harder I feel like people have more opinions about what they think we should be doing. I'm not talking about really useful advice; I am talking about their personal opinion. I know that they mean well, I really do, but sometimes your opinion is just pushing the other person away. On the other hand there are so many people who really just get into "the pit" with us. If I have felt like that with my tiny heartaches, I can't imagine how it feels for people with real, raw grief.

It's not surprising to me that this is a lesson I am learning right now. It's not just about being a better person of faith; it's a lesson on being a more compassionate human. It makes me think about my role as a mother and how I not only should protect them and give them the best chance that I can, but I also need to serve as a role model for them. I need to work on myself daily. Do you remember this post? These are the areas I want to work on to be a better me: compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. I still need a lot of work. I hope that this post; although it may seem a little rough around the edges, can also help inspire someone else to just climb down into the "pit of grief" with a friend or loved one who needs it. Putting our opinions aside or learning to just be there can teach us to be a more compassionate and loving person, parent, friend and human.