I was driving down the interstate the other and Miranda Lambert's newest single came on the radio. I wasn't paying much attention, its a song I already know and love. Then the chorus came. The words are gritty, like a lot of Ms. Lambert's songs.
But you went away.
How dare you?
I miss you.
They say I'll be okay.
But I'm not ever going to get over you.
This perfectly sums up the feelings I've had over the loss of my grandmother. There is such a void in my life that was left with her passing and it hit me in that moment. I started to cry. I was trying so hard to pull myself together and I finally did. I was headed to dinner with some friends and had I known that I was going to be an hour early I would have just let myself cry.
Later that night I was talking with one of my dearest friends and we began to reminisce about a trip we had taken. It was one of those trips where everything that could go wrong or be weird was and its hilarious, at least to us. As we talked we began to laugh. And we laughed until we weren't making noise any longer. I had tears coming out of my eyes, of a very different kind.
That night as I washed my face and rid myself of the traces of both sets of tears I realized that life is such a wonderful experience. I could cry and laugh in the matter of hours. Life is gritty and we don't acknowledge it. There is pain, there is laughter. There is heartache, there is new life. There is sadness, there is uncontrollable laughter.
I think this is why I love Natalie Grant's song "Held." I listened to it with new ears yesterday and these words stuck out to me:
To think that providence
Would take a child from his mother
While she prays, is appalling.
There is so much gritty honesty in those lyrics. It is appalling. The song goes on to say.
The promise was when everything fell
We'd be held.
That is the promise. That is the hope, we are held by a Savior. A Savior who has walked a gritty and harder road than we do. A Savior who gave is life for us on a cross, after he was betrayed and beaten and mocked. Jesus knows exactly how gritty our lives are, how difficult it can be. He understands when we cry out "Why, God?" and understands our pitiful moans of "Why me?"
I've been dealing with a lot in my life lately. And I've been dealing with it very privately. So much so no one knows all that I've had on my mind, except my Savior. I've created silence in my life where I can, because that it what I can control. If you've asked my how I'm doing I probably told you great or fine or wonderful. That's mostly true. When I've been around others and not in my own head I have felt that way. Very few people in our lives understand the tone in which we say such words.