I’m Tired Of Being Brave

Bravery Fatigue – that’s what I have going on these days.  You too??

I’m not sure, but I think this bravery fatigue might be somewhat cumulative.  Then again, I believe it’s intensified because of the pandemic.  Goodness – this pandemic has fatigued everyone for one reason or another.  We are all tired. . . so tired. 

My story – 6 1/2 years long at this point. . .emphasis on the word long.  And even as I write that, I know there are others widowed that have walked this grief journey a lot longer.  I salute all of you !!

We, the widowed, have to make life decisions – decisions so very gigantic – we make them alone for the first time in our adult life.  I am ever grateful that God helped me remember the logistics of past life decisions my husband & I made over our 37 1/2 years together.  I’m also very thankful for the people with specific expertise along the way.  I believe God had us cross paths in order to add to my wisdom quotient.  Believe me, I needed it. 

This year is perhaps the straw that is breaking this camel’s back. 

In March, I moved from St. Louis, MO to Louisville, KY.  Mind you, that is after all the huge decisions & hurdles in 2019/early 2020 – deciding where to move, much downsizing, signing to begin building a home, deciding on a realtor, researching the market, vetting a mover, all the move prep – packing boxes, disassembling furniture, deciding what can go in my car/my friend’s car – oh and then the week of the physical move – physically exhausting. 

I get to Louisville and everything shuts down – everything. I can’t even see family for awhile.  

I’ve left my solid support system and am now living in the desert. 

Initially it didn’t bother me too much, but as things have dragged on with no end in sight. . . well, that wears on a person. 

Additional stress came after the physical move. . .selling my St. Louis home, closing out MO tax stuff for my business, starting up tax stuff in KY, and drivers license & plates (took    7 months). . .and much more.

And now, plowing into starting over, entering as a nobody – no one knows my history or anything I’ve done – not that I’m looking for any kind of fame – just credibility.

The worst part?  Not knowing what to do next.  God has been quite silent about this.  My head understands I can trust Him & that He has a plan.  My heart hasn’t caught up.  I like to say – I know God has a plan, I just don’t like this part. Truth. 

Please understand I don’t want to know the whole picture.  I’m just looking for direction for where to focus.  Maybe you are looking for that too.  Often on this journey, we find ourselves in the oddest of places, don’t we?

Focusing on the road before us as widows & widowers…and then  bravery fatigue.  We have been brave for so long.  We have stepped up, moved forward, made decisions. . .and we are tired. 

So I’m talking to me as much as I am to you. We get each other.  We understand where others outside of our walk do not. 

Find strength in calling it what it is.  This really does help.  And then lay down your sword for a few – a few minutes, hours, days.  Then pick it back up and take a step forward.  Even when we don’t know what’s next we can do what we know – right here, right now. 

Me?  I’m going to focus on my writing.  While I do that, I’ll keep listening for God’s voice – His prompting.  I’m going to trust – believe – hope. 

That’s what I offer to you friend. 

Lay down your sword – rest – pick it back up – take a step – do what you know – listen for God’s prompting. 

My dear fellow grief travelers. . .I’m sending you peace & blessings.

 

Do The Next Right Thing

Currently I’m attending a local Griefshare group at my church.  It’s a wonderful small group that is a safe place.  How important it is to have a safe place to question, vent, share, and listen.  

The Griefshare ministry is video driven with a workbook that is done during the week.  It is thoughtfully laid out and even has scripture written out right there on the page, which helps so much.  Another thing I appreciate is the larger font they have used.  It’s not so much an age thing as it is a bereavement thing.  I don’t know about you, but I like a little larger font when I’m a bit bleary eyed.

In a recent video, one of the folks sharing about their grief journey spoke about how when we are overwhelmed with all that needs to be done, that it’s helpful to just do the next right thing.  I love that!!  And this is why I’m writing today’s post.  I want to share that great thought with you.  

Coincidentally, there is a podcast I listen to called, The Next Right Thing by Emily P. Freeman. I mention that in case you may have heard of it.  Great podcast, by the way, and I’ve found it helpful on my grief journey.  Just know that it’s for everyone and not focused on bereavement.  Emily is so good at helping us simplify our every day, our thoughts etc.  And as you have probably realized, that helps when grieving.  

But on to the reason for this post. 

When grieving, we get overwhelmed, upset, stuck, and so many other things.  It is this particular subject that the Griefshare video was addressing.  Sometimes we come to a place where we don’t know what to do, what step to take.  That’s when I think it’s important to do the thing right in front of you – do the next right thing. When we do just that one thing, it can help us feel ready to do the next thing, and the next, and the next. 

Sounds so simple, but as you know, when we are grieving – it’s NOT!  Taking that next step requires an act of the will.  You won’t want to do it, but once you take that one step forward, you will see significant benefits – sometimes right away, and sometimes once you have completed that next thing.   

It’s a feeling of accomplishment.  It’s one less thing on the long list of things to do.  And once it’s done, go ahead and take pride in it.  If you are a list maker like me, getting that one thing done will help you feel just a bit better.  Note – I’m sorry for using the word better, but it’s the word in the English language that describes it best.  We both know that better takes awhile, so please understand that I’m not rushing you.  

So dear friend on this grief journey with me – take heart, take a deep breath – and do the next right thing.

I know I’m stepping out on a limb here, but I sincerely believe you will be glad you did.