New territory...

I'm like a dude adrift at sea with no idea how to sail.

I don't quite know how to deal with grief like this.

It's coming in waves these days. Unbelief followed by shock followed by sorrow followed by unbelief followed by disappointment followed by shock followed by sorrow followed by unbelief followed by weariness and on and on it goes.

I sat next to Cam last night (that's my seat to his right in the above image, in front of the window) and had to 'feed' him 'cause he wasn't eating.

It's been YEARS since I had to feed a child.

Couple nights before that I changed his diaper (a diaper FILLED with you know what...) and I haven't done THAT in years.

And you're thinking 'Boo, hoo, poor you. Stop whining!' But, I'm telling you it's a shock to the system. I don't know how to cook dinner for 7 kids. Yes, I'm going to do my 'part' in rebuilding our family's life, yes I'm doing it as best I can with a minimum of whining but, I'm telling you, I'm feeling like this is almost too much.

I had to ask Kate what Sim liked to 'do' 'cause, though I can NEVER replace Robbie as Sim's 'Dad', for better or worse I'm currently the 'closest male relative' and it's therefore MY job to fill in the gaps that my Dad can't.

"How does he like to play, what would Robbie do with him?" I asked.

"He likes mechano..." she said.

I burst into tears.

More tears.

Cried my way through writing my sermon last week.

More tears.

I keep wondering why my wife and I feel so 'distant' from each other and why I feel so sad and why I can't seem to muster up any real 'passion' for the everyday mundane things of my working life.

I just don't 'care' right now.

Sounds like grief doesn't it?

I keep saying I need to read some books on this stuff 'cause I've never walked through anything like this.

I was listening to a Stephen Curtis Chapman song off his 'grief' album and he was asking God who He (God) is 'cause this 'curve' he's been thrown is seriously messing with what he's thought of God and expected from His hand.

I relate.

I told a friend recently that I feel almost like all bets are off now. If *this* can happen to *us* than anything can happen to anyone.

I realize I may sound immature here. I get it. I'm offering you my unfiltered thoughts in the hopes that it might help me to just process out loud and maybe encourage you along your journey.

My blog has jumped in traffic by a factor of 2 since Robbie died which means that some of the people who 'met' me through that process (online and in person) have decided to stick around and 'watch' how this plays out on my end.

"Hello, nice to see you. Hope you're well..."

I don't have any pithy truisms to half-heartedly encourage you with. I'm deep deep down the well and it's mighty dark.

Yes, there are moments where Jesus washes over me with His love and assurance but, at the same time, I feel so very far away from hope or happiness most of the time right now.

And I need a bigger van 'cause ours only seats 7 and we need something that seats 9 so me and Nik can take all the sweet babies with us when we take 'em--which needs to be LOTS--so that, eventually and with God's help, my sweet sister can start to take some time for herself to start re-building her life.

Insanity.

Dunno' if one of you readers happens to be a car dealer. Maybe you know a car dealer. Maybe you have lots of money.

I could really use a nine seater Suburban or Expedition, you know the one with the bench seat in the front 'cause 3 x 3 x3 seats is what we need these days.

Just look at the picture for proof.

Dunno what to expect, but I expect the Lord to provide.

Maybe through you.

Maybe hit me up if you've got a people mover for me...

Peace and love,

T

toddc@tmginc.com