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Still Not Quite Right

Grief wreaks havoc. I still have a rather ambiguous relationship to eating; I do it because I have to. I graze, rather than eating big meals. It will be nice to experience the enjoyment of eating again. I know I will. No pain lasts forever, especially not in the light of eternity.

Then I feel guilty, because this grief is not in some objective sense the worst loss. I have an internet friend who could tell us all about loss and grief, and I defer to her. Yet when she says, "I will never be OK with this," that corresponds with something I understand, and it helps me.

On the other hand, I need and want the freedom to say that I'm not OK, that I have been changed somehow by grief, that in these moments, the world does not look quite the same, and in some way, it never will again.

The Lord retains the right to make something good out of bad, and in faith and hope, I expect Him to do it. But there's no rush here; if I want to cry, I'll cry, and I'll brook no debate about it.

The Enemy loves the times when I have doubted everything I thought I knew, about myself, about God, and the goodness of creation. That father of lies loves my bitterness, my resentment, my anger, and whatever bad else. If that snake can keep me from praying, it's the only chance he has.

I just hit back with the Memorare; I cast myself into the arms of Mother, and thereby, into the arms of God the Father.

I don't know what the future holds, or how to handle it. I do know that I am ever and always Jason Layne Kettinger, renewed in Christ by the grace of the Holy Spirit, and one could do worse.

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