I would be lying if I said that we here in our family have not loved these past few months. Inside my own little world—my house with my kids and grandkids—things are good. We have all been home since March. My grandkids live next door and my husband was home too for the first time since we moved in together because he has always worked long hours.
Out there, the world is burning. We can all see it from the window.
In here, we all get to be home together for the first time since the suicide of my oldest son. After his death there was nowhere to go and nothing that “had to be done”. We all got to check out of the normal world for two weeks and it would have been nice if we did not have to learn to live without Anthony in those two weeks. It is not easy to be thriving while watching the world burn.
It is hard for me to see where God is in all this chaos, it’s just hard in a way that’s different from the way in which it’s hard for the folks for whom it’s just hard.
But the thing is, God is here. He was also with me as I buried my son. He is always with us. He expects us to know this. God expects us to talk to Him and to let Him know how we are truly feeling. That is how relationships work. We must come honestly and with no defenses up.
Out there, the world is burning. We can all see it from the window.
It took me a long time to learn that God loves me as I am. Not as who I could be if I tried hard enough to be good. The reason for that is very complicated but the gist is that I was never told I was good as a child.
Not even as a four or five-year-old. I have no memories of anyone saying “you are so awesome” until I was in the fourth grade and my teacher told me I was smart. She was the first person to say those words to me. I did not have a father and my mother was never told she was good as a child either so she simply did not know how to do it with me.
It took me a long time to learn that God loves me as I am. Not as who I could be if I tried hard enough to be good.
When I had my children, I did not know a lot of things. I knew that I wanted them to know I loved them. So, I told them all the time. I tell them what they are good at and I am also honest with them about what they are not good at while making it clear that it does not make them any less good in my eyes. We are all not good at some things. That is life.
And then my first grandchild. This child is the light of my life. She is also the spitting image of me. I have loved her more than I can ever describe since the moment I first saw her on an ultrasound. My entire life shifted when she took her first breath.
One day when she was about two years old, she was with me while I ran errands. I was putting her back in her car seat and she insisted on putting on her seatbelt by herself. She struggled for about 15 minutes refusing to let me help her. “I can do it!” she said to me anytime I tried. And then she pinched herself with the clicker and began screaming bloody murder. As I picked her up I said “If you had let me help you, you wouldn’t have hurt yourself. I love you. All I want to do is make sure you are safe.”
I felt the Divine side-eye as soon as I said it.
How many times have I refused God’s help because I think I can do something all by myself? So many times. All He wants is to keep me safe. Maybe if I stop fighting Him, He could do that.
He loves me. That is what I learned that day and I have held onto that lesson ever since. It got me through the suicide and burial of my son. It gets me through the days when the world is burning, and the flames go higher and higher. It gets me through the moments when I cannot see a way through all the tears.
We are trying to put on our seatbelt without His help and we are going to end up pinching ourselves.
Leticia Ochoa Adams writes from Texas, on life, death, grief, suicide, faith, motherhood, doubts and whatever (else) happens to be on her mind.
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