Momma in the Valley

  Grief is a fickle thing. Sometimes, it is just a little prod, reminding you it’s there. Other times, though, it is like a punch in the gut while you have a stomach bug. Either way, it’s always there, lurking around every corner. At times, it is a small sting that feels like a bee. At others, it feels like a ton of bricks has settled on your chest and you have no escape. The grief can look different day to day, week to week, month to month. It can be a simple ping of sadness at a song or a name that reminds you of who or what you have lost. It can also be an overwhelming wave of sorrow as you remember a birthday, a shared joke, or think to call the person you are missing. It hurts. It is an endless ache, a bottomless, empty pit, a sea of despair. Grief is something that is typically experienced silently. It is an experience unique to you, and unique to each loss you have. It can feel lonely. In short, laymen’s terms: grief sucks. The Devil likes to use this pain and despair and lo...

This is a scary and confusing time. It’s a time when I know it is okay and warranted to be sad, but it is difficult to explain to many people what the sadness feels like or just how deep it is. It isn’t quite a depression yet, though I fear it could morph into one. It isn’t a feeling that the words pain, sorrow, anguish, or suffering can fully describe. It feels like there is a hole in my heart, an ache in my soul. It feels like an emptiness that slowly yet steadily grows into a black hole, sucking away all joy, energy, and feeling within me. Sometimes, the hurt dissipates for a while, then creeps back in during a tv show, a conversation, or even a moment. It creeps back into the crevices of my heart and mind, showing itself on my face and in my voice. I have a history of depression, which creates a fear of the darkness coming back. I fear the evil depression holds, and I can at times see the Enemy working to bring the rain. All the sadness gets turned into blaming fingers pointin...