Good Grief

Now isn't that quite the oxymoron?
Two weeks ago, my baby brother chose to leave this life and it's literally broken my heart. All I'm left with are questions, heartache, and more questions. My entire being has been shifted into something I've never known. I'm different. I'll never be the same after his passing.
Our family can't seem to catch a break. In all honesty, I've wanted to shout this phrase to the skies and tell God to take a chill pill in allowing these tragedies to take place.
I've been so angry. So hurt. So weak. So desperate for Christian to walk through the door.
Bargaining.
Grief.
This is what will consume my soul during the remainder of my life here.
Why? Why do these things happen? Why--if God is so loving--does He allow these things to happen? How could He?
Anger.
Grief.
I don't know how to cope with this loss. I absolutely hate the phrase: "You'll get through this." No. No, I won't get through this. There is no getting through loss. There are only ways to cope...but I don't know how to cope.
I find it hard to laugh. I find it hard to enjoy the little things. Moreso, I feel guilty when I begin to find myself having a good time because Christian is gone.
Depression.
Grief.
Grief isn't something to get through or get over. Grief becomes an acquaintance with which you want to depart, but find the task to be impossible. Grief becomes a part of you. It's a part of me now.
While I sat in class today, we were meant to be discussing a scripture.
I couldn't speak.
I could feel the judgment emanating from my peers as we huddled in our little circle. They spoke in turn while I sat silently. Grief held my tongue while my mind raced from corner to corner rendering me inattentive to the words being spoken by my classmates.
They see I'm silent, maybe just shy.
Oh, how wrong they are.
If they only knew of the anguish of heart I was experiencing then maybe we would not have exchanged so many awkward glances as they awaited my admittance into their discussion.
Frankly, I don't know how I am going to get through the semester while the great grief hurricane rages. No one in this one class is going to understand my sinking shoulders or my teary eyes.
Only one will understand.
Jesus Christ.
Through His atonement, I can somehow make it through the semester while grief hangs on my back. I don't think the Lord can see to it that grief releases me from its grasp, but He sure can hold my hand while I walk this ever-so rocky course.
Some of you may ask why I will continue to put my faith in God when I am upset with Him. I may be confused, but I still trust Him. The difference between God and me is that He sees the bigger picture, something my mortal mind is incapable of doing.
I do it because of what Jeffrey R. Holland said:

When problems come and questions arise, do not start your quest for faith by saying how much you do not have, leading as it were with your “unbelief.” That is like trying to stuff a turkey through the beak! Let me be clear on this point: I am not asking you to pretend to have faith you do not have. I am asking you to be true to the faith you do have. Sometimes we act as if an honest declaration of doubt is a higher manifestation of moral courage than is an honest declaration of faith. It is not! So let us all remember the clear message of this scriptural account: Be as candid about your questions as you need to be; life is full of them on one subject or another. But if you and your family want to be healed, don’t let those questions stand in the way of faith working its miracle.

I still have faith in the Lord. I do not understand the reasoning behind all that He does, but I know that in time I will be able to be healed from this hurt and confusion which stands in between us if I will press forward in faith--even if I only have a sliver of it. 

I have faith that God loves me. Since Christian died, there have been days when I've felt it, and days when I have had nothing but questions and anger. But I know that even through my grief, He will continue to gain my trust in His character as a loving heavenly father who loves His children--even me, even Christian. I can't see it now, but I do have faith that I will see it someday.

I love Him, and I trust Christian is okay even though I would much rather him be here with me. 

One day it'll be so.

One day.