Hard to Describe...

I have been struggling to put into words my thoughts about how things are right now. And then I found this quote from the book I am still reading my way through...

"I also feel the emptiness that comes after having faced a challenge or danger that is now apparently past. I have heard of Vietnam veterans who felt a profound letdown after returning home. They missed the keen concentration that was required of them to survive in combat. Though the war was horrible to them, it nevertheless forced them to use their senses and energy in a way that made them feel intensely alive. Likewise, I worked long and hard to survive loss, and I now feel less energetic and focused than I used to, although no less contented...Still, I strangely miss the awareness and vitality I felt when I had to invest so much of myself into facing darkness, finding meaning in the loss, and affirming life in the midst of death"   (A Grace Disguised, by Jerry Sittser)

Since coming home and finally starting to settle back into our life, I have just felt so...displaced. When Cohen was in the NICU, we were so focused on fighting that battle. I had to be strong for him. I needed to go to the NICU every day. We threw ourselves into catching the bus to the hospital, finding food, sitting for hours on end with Cohen, driving back and forth from home to Seattle. I don't regret any of it, and I believe that's where we needed to be at that time. Even though it was hard, we had something to focus on. I previously described that time as one where I knew I had to keep moving, I had to keep going or I would fall down and never get back up. Now, I feel like a fish out of water trying to figure out now what?

And I don't know what the answer is. I felt like things were so much clearer in the midst of the intense trials we were going through. It felt like there was more black and white and less grey area, if that makes sense at all. I was either at home or the hospital. Cohen had a good day or a bad day. I was with Cohen or I wasn't. I was crying for Cohen or I was crying for Carter. I knew God was in control or I didn't. I was with family or I was alone.

Now, things seem more complicated. I couldn't really put my finger on why exactly, but after I read that I felt like it really described what I was feeling. Now that we aren't in the midst of "battle" or in survival mode, it's hard to know where to focus my energy...or lack of energy. And less focused is exactly how I feel. I'm having a harder time finding meaning in this. I still trust God, but I don't feel his presence as intensely as I did, which is my fault for not seeking him. It's easy to rely on God when he is the only thing you have. It's so easy to fall back into that "I can handle it" mode. Which, obviously, I can't.

Today, I am thankful that God knows every single one of my thoughts. He knows my confusion and hurt. He knows my joy and gives me hope. I am thankful that God is bigger than anything I have or ever will go through. I am thankful that he can handle all of my emotions and thoughts. My life is not a surprise to him, he knew from before I was born what I would go through and he has gone before me and will go with me.

"O Lord, you have searched me and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise: you perceive my thoughts from afar....You hem me in - behind and before; you have laid your hand upon me...Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your hand will hold me fast."
Psalm 139:1-10