Grief's Guilt

I have plenty of guilt after Aaron’s death.

The guilt of wondering if I could've prevented it all.

The guilt of my first smile while his body lay in the morgue.

The guilt of laughter though his funeral was coming.

The guilt of lunch with friends as a new widow.

The guilt of outward normalcy as a mom, soccer practice and cooking dinner and going to the park.

The guilt of a far-too-soon first kiss with another man (who'd become my 2nd husband) with rings still on my finger.

Sadness was expected, and feeling numb made sense. But guilt came as a forceful surprise.

No one prepares you for the soundtrack of self-condemnation.

After 13 years 11 months, there are still thoughts of should have and could have.

How grateful I am for the Lord, who reminds me of His sovereign plan that I am unable to sabotage.

How grateful I am for loved ones who walked this valley alongside me as I put one foot in front of the other.

Each year has had slightly less sting.

If you are carrying shame, whether imagined or justified, God invites you to lay that burden at His capable feet. Face to the floor, palms open, unload it all to Him. He already knows and already loves you. Your surrender is met with compassion, kindness, grace, and freedom.

"And if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies because of his Spirit who lives in you." Romans 8:11