Miles to go before I sleep...

This was my view on my first day home. All day.

I drank good coffee, lit the Anthropologie candle Young Son's girl friend gave me for Christmas, and cuddled under an afghan made by Married Daughter. I caught up with a week's worth of newspapers and mail and never got out of my jammies. Food? I ordered pizza delivered. And I did little more than try to revive houseplants which hadn't been tended during the week I was in Missouri.

The good part of my trip: Time spent with my children and special friends. A white Christmas for the first time in my life. Laughter on a daily basis. No schedule; no make-up. (Should have rethought that decision after seeing pictures posted on Facebook.) No pressure; no reminders that this was my first Christmas without D.

The bad: Icy roads on the way home. A two-day drive that left my neck needing the massage gift certificate I received. Little signage on the Oklahoma roads that allow you to go a loooooooong way before you know you're headed in the wrong direction. 

The ugly: Return to reality. The holiday is over. I am again alone with my thoughts. 

I got an email from a friend asking how I was. She said that she always experiences some post-holiday let-down. Those words were a gift: a ticket back to normalcy, if you will. Even "normal" people have some readjustment after December 25. Because I feel like I am standing at the shore of an ocean of sadness, with the waves lapping at my feet. 

No two travels through grief can be the same. I guess I thought I'd skip through it all because I've always been a take-charge, A-type listmaker and multi-tasker. Surely I could whip this grief process into shape! 

Instead? It has  whipped me. I'm almost six months into the journey, and the person I was is no more. I don't want to talk or see friends right now. I don't care what the house looks like. And I can't imagine that there will really be true happiness down the road.

God: if you are trying to teach me to be more empathetic to others, You have my complete and undivided attention. Because I may just put another log on the fire and spend another day in my jammies. (Don't have to order pizza because yesterday's large should hold me for a few more days.) And I may just contemplate all of this a few more days.

And you know what? That is perfectly OK. I have decided to lay down all my plans,  agendas, and resolution making that put me in control of my healing and 2010. Because my efforts seem to be turning to sand between my fingers.

And I put myself into the hands of Someone Who has a better plan for me.  Plans that are for good, and promise me a future and a hope. 

Are you familiar with the verse that says, "Be still and know that I am God"? The word "know" translates from "know it by seeing it happen". My new vision of this verse is "Be still and watch Me do it".

I'm going to find a comfortable place to lean back, heal, and watch God put my life back together in 2010.