Trust the Process

There has been so much change in my life over the past few months and I have changed so much...I barely recognize myself. I became a mother and this little boy showed me a whole 'nother side of love. He is beautiful and happy and good natured. Nursing him has helped me lose about 60 pounds. I also recently lost my great grandma. I think because I had her so long and in my mind, I know she's with God, I didn't realize how hard it would be to lose her.

So, I welcomed new life and had to say goodbye to parts of who I was. And this stripping has been so hard. I'm trying to figure out who this new woman is. This woman, no longer a girl, not just a wife, but now a mother. How do I balance it all? I'm also preparing to go back to work too. I took it for granted that women just do all this stuff, but never considered the heart wrenching decisions and worries that come with it.

I'm just at the place where I must trust God. Because of my past, I see that I have trouble with trust due to so much disappointment. God has never disappointed me, but I had been hanging on to the anxiety that comes from lack of trust or stability. Now, more change is occurring, more digging, and I must trust the process.

Transition

Yesterday evening I got a phone call from my mother. Part of me thought I should wait to call back, but I did anyway. I asked her how she was and she said she could be better, and had some bad news. I automatically asked, "Who passed?" She told me it was my great grandma. The tears began to fall.

No matter how you try to prepare yourself, it's always hard. This woman was my first exposure to someone who was saved and baptized with the Holy Spirit with evidence of speaking in tongues. She was an intercessor. Always warring in prayer over us. Over me. She loved God and she loved people. But as her great granddaughter, I am so thankful I can say I come from a woman like her and she loved me. Before I knew how to pray for myself, I'd call and ask her to pray for me. And it worked.

She has other great grands and even great great grands, and each of us had a special relationship with her. I can only speak for me. Her house was a safe place. I'd go to church with her whenever I stayed over. It was oppressively hot in the summer, but since she was the frozen cup/ candy lady, I always had access to a cold, sweet treat. Going to great grandma's house meant fried fish and store brand corn flakes. It was sweet potato pies and collard greens. It was a smile from the sweetest woman I've known. Summers meant bus trips with her church on a chartered bus with fried chicken, Wonder Bread, and fresh fruit. We went to Niagara Falls, Chicago, Detroit, Atlanta, Orlando...and many more places I can't remember. She was strong. She worked well into her 80s. She was the oldest of child of sharecroppers, just one generation or so removed from slavery. She was of 11 children. The only thing that slowed her down was the stroke she had almost exactly two years ago. I saw her just before the stroke then and I saw her just two weeks ago before Easter. I am thankful. She got to see my first child. I will never forget the moment I knelt down with him in my arms. She looked at him and he looked at her. I remember thinking, I wish someone could get a picture. She was tired and out of it, but she was awake long enough to see him. I'm so glad she stayed long enough to meet him.

 I'll miss her smile and how her face lit up whenever she saw me. I'll miss holding her hand. I'll miss her white hair. I'll miss her laugh. I'll miss her voice. I'll miss her sense of humor, which was sharp and present until the end.I am thankful. Even as I cry and my heart hurts, it's only because I won't see her alive on this side of heaven again.