Simply Look Up

I miss the simplicity of life. For a while there simplicity included being married, sharing the day in and day out. Having someone listen, to laugh with, to love. Not to glamorize it, because there were challenges and days of struggle. In the end nothing was simple, and I struggle with the complexity of the outcome.

I'm having trouble finding the beauty of the "here" in my life. Finding some routine that isn't filled with anxiety. Some comfort in the midst of massive change. I miss knowing where I belong, being able to recognize where home is and what it looks like. I miss being connected. My "people" were just a phone call a way. I know my "people" are still just a phone call away, but I deeply grieve the losses, the changes, the huge shift in the landscape of my life. 

I don't do well with isolation. Life as a survivor of suicide loss is fraught with isolation. Some of it due to stigma, some to being/feeling different than others because of your experience. Some due to the very nature of tragic loss. Some of it is the self being afraid to be open and trust again. Yet, my soul longs for connection. I know I made changes in my life with solid logic. Then the whole balance of the world tilted with the pandemic. I rather thought I was moving toward more connection, more social opportunities, more belonging. I am not where I fit before, and haven't established how I fit in where I am now. And....it's lonely. 

I've been gently reminded of other times in my life when there was great change. Where my center of balance was challenged. Of how I survived them, found joy in the process, and a multitude of blessings along the way. The Lauren Daigle song, Look Up Child hits home. "Where are you now when darkness seems to win. Where you now, when the world is crumbling. I hear you say, I hear you say, I hear you say look up child." Sound advice (no pun intended) and an affirmation of faith. Plus a little musical styling while we look up can't hurt either. So...Look Up Child, Look Up Child.