Grieving is exhausting. The mourning process is absolutely the most tiring, draining experience of my life!

 It reminds me of this: You’re working on a word document on your computer,  and it is the only thing on your desktop, but your computer is running so slow it can barely keep up with your typing. You start to investigate, trying to figure out why the computer is so bogged down, when you realize you have 10 other programs open and running in the background. No wonder it can barely respond to your requests and is struggling to keep up.

 That’s what it’s like to grieve.  You go about your day, run your errands, visit with a friend or two, and you are absolutely exhausted at the end of the day…sometimes by mid-morning, you’re just done. No energy, listless, you lay in bed exhausted.  It takes nothing to wear me out these days.

 I believe that is because I am existing on the top layer, and from the surface, things seem status quo.  But under that layer is an undercurrent, constantly in motion, never ceasing…memories of Grant swirling around, torrents of hopes dashed, trying to build swells of trust regardless of impending rapids, steep falls into sadness, brackish temptations to despair, lost dreams and signs of God’s faithfulness both line the riverbed and constantly vie for my undivided attention.  It’s constant; constantly running in the background, this relentless current underneath the placid surface.  And it’s exhausting.  A weariness to the bones.

 I go to Romans 5:3-4 this morning, “More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope”

 Lord, may this suffering produce endurance in me, build my Godly character, and lead me into hope.