Yesterday was a Sunday. Nothing seemingly special to it, I slept in a little and then went to church. While talking to some friends, I hear the service starting so I went inside and sat with my wife. My Pastor started teaching on Ecclesiastes.
“Meaningless! Meaningless!” says the Teacher. “Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless.” – NIV
He taught on how nothing has meaning without a purpose through God. As I sat listening, my demeanor changed and my wife noticed it. My son was trying to find his purpose. Despite all his accomplishments, He could not see it. I struggle with the same thing. After years of not finding an individual purpose, I put a lot of energy into helping my son learn about God, science, mathematics, etc. Since he died, I question my purpose again. I have a daughter to raise and I teach her, but I am not capable of repeating the lessons for fear of repeating the results.
Yesterday may not have seemed special but in retrospect it starts a season. No, it is not fall but the temperatures today were very similar to fall. The season starting is the ten-year anniversary of our finding out we were pregnant with our third baby. I have been thinking about her a lot lately. Even though I never met her, I miss her. The anger I had for years after she miscarried kept me from grieving her properly.
Partly because I was overdue for a bad day, partly because of all the things which have been bouncing around my head, and partly because of this melancholy scripture talking about purpose which is one of my issues now, I had a terrible afternoon. Unfortunately, my wife had a bad day and I think our daughter did too. We normally balance each other. I cannot explain what this looks like when we all collide at once. This happens rarely but it is not a house sobbing or fighting. It is the most awkward, frustrating environment no one wants to be in but you do not leave because being with people who get you is so much better than seeing someone else.
A gorgeous fall-like day starting with so much beauty and promise turned into the worst day we have had in months. This is how grief operates. I do not get to pick when or where it strikes. Certain dates on the calendar I prepare for but sometimes it is a random Sunday.