In my head

I hadn't thought I was angry with God these last few months. While I certainly can't even pretend to understand why this has all happened, I have felt fairly strong in my belief that despite my finite understanding and the horror of it all, God is still good. I felt solid enough in my faith and have had enough years under my belt of experiencing the goodness of God to not feel fundamentally shaken in my trust of God by the loss of Midi and Nathan.

But I've realized that anger, despair, and the questioning of God are still there for me. Those things exist on a layer that's pretty submerged for me, and therefore not what I'm aware of on a daily basis. But they are there nonetheless. I think it's that layer that surfaces for me during communion. Something about connecting with God as I contemplate the way He has suffered with and for mankind allows my despair and faith co-exist for a while. In communion I can ask God why He would take soulmate like Midi away from me and at the same trust Him to be my confort in the midst of that anguish.

The other factor keeping that layer submerged is that I am far more comfortable dealing with all of this with my head than my heart. Analysis, reflection, doing something with my grief... that I can handle. Simply mourning all the time, staying in touch with the sense of desolation I feel from losing Midi on a constant basis, those things I can only seem to manage on a every-so-often basis. Someone pointed out to me this last week that not everyone in the midst of intense mourning would take a seminary class on grief and dying. Perhaps that should have been obvious to me, but it caught me off-guard. It revealed more to me how much I'm "in my head" about all of this.

I'm not sure I could change that about myself even if I wanted to, which I don't really. But I do want to try to give that submerged layer in my heart a few more outlets than simply a once-a-week-during-communion coming up for air.