stream of consciousness: thursday edition
It’s after midnight.
I just had a conversation with my son.
Apparently no one can get any routine sleep in this house.
Life is just hard, ya’ll.
It. Is. Hard.
And I am tired.
Tired of sleepless nights and tired of sad afternoons.
I’m tired.
Like the kind of literal tired as in – I don’t get enough sleep. And the kind of figurative tired as in – My heart hurts a lot of the day.
And – can I say this? – I am tired of being tired. I am sick of being full of sorrow. I am all tired out of being all tired out.
Today I cut off maybe four inches of my hair. At first I liked it. And then I was sad that all of my blonde fell on the floor of the salon too. Now it’s night and I don’t know how I feel about it again. And then I reminded myself it was just hair. It will always grow back.
There are three locks on the kitchen door but I still don’t feel protected at night.
I sat in my living room tonight and chatted and laughed with two beautiful friends. My goodness. I am grateful to have such friends.
They make The Hard a little less so.
You have no idea how thankful I am that the sun has been shining and a breeze has been blowing every day for this entire week. Let me tell you guys, in case you were wondering why the weather has been so lovely – it’s been a gift from God to me. Yep. You guys have been enjoying my gift of sunshine and happy weather. You’re welcome.
Grief is weird. A generous friend purchased a bag of Golden Oreos for us this week. Once upon a time they would have been calling my name loudly over the yellow bag, calling out to me to enjoy their creamy white filling. After the kids would be asleep me and my friend Golden Oreo would have been hanging out and getting crazy together.
I haven’t even opened the bag yet.
Stuff just loses its appeal somehow.
My eyes feel blurry and irritated from some extra crying jags tonight. Sometimes I go days without shedding a tear and sometimes just hours.
There are days I think I am okay and days I think I never will be.
(And I think I’m right on both accounts probably.)
It’s beginning to get warm in our house. I forgot how adorable Otto Fox looks when his hair is sweaty in his sleep. That child’s grin is the best kind of trouble I’ve ever seen.
Tonight Bergen finally memorized all of his multiplication facts.
Apparently all it took was the right bribe at the right time. I mean, encouragement. The right encouragement. It was pretty exciting to watch him. “Mom, that wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t so hard,” he concluded after we exchanged about twelve high fives in glorious celebration.
I hear the strangest sounds at night. Creaks and old house noises. I leave way too many lights on.
I think everyone is finally asleep at this house. Except me.
11 Comments
Jenn
Lacey
I saw your hair on Sunday and I thought it looks so pretty! I was going to tell you but I forgot…I should have told you. Sorry.
You are amazing Lacey. I am praying for you. My heart hurts for you. thank you for being transparent and sharing with us.
I love the verses in Psalm 55:17-18
Morning, noon and night I cry out in my distress, and the LORD hears my voice. He ransoms me and keeps me safe from the battle waged against me, though many still oppose me.
I love that we can cry to him ALL day and he hears us.
Praying.
laceykeigley
Thank you Jenn!
Yes — morning, noon and night. That is good news.
Beth
I have lived all that. And I hate its your life right now. Hate it. But you are stronger than you know. Our bodies somehow just keep going. So keep going. Each minute, each day. One foot in front of the other. You are not alone. Love you so much.
laceykeigley
I love you too.
Rachel
I’m kind of stuck in the anger phase of grief right now, but I hear you on the tired. And being tired of being tired. I kind if just want a nap in a tent on the beach, you know? Like maybe THAT would be the perfect combination to refresh my weary body and mind and soul.
I read this, yesterday, and found such hope in it:
“So take a new grip with your tired hands, and stand firm on your shaky legs. Mark out a straight path for your feet. Then those who follow you, though they are weak and lame, will not stumble and fall, but will become strong.” – Hebrews 12:12-13 NLT
Take a new grip with tired hands and stand firm on your shaky legs. You can do this, my friend. You have the strength of the Creator of the world sustaining you. We. We have that strength. And look at the gorgeous grins and sweaty heads of our legacies 🙂
laceykeigley
What a sweet translation of those verses. “Stand firm on your shaky legs.”
Sunshine Leister
I like what Sara said…” Keep showing up. We’ll keep praying.” Btw..Do you still have the box fans from last year?
laceykeigley
I do! 🙂
judy kay
I read this recently in an article and I thought it was a pretty accurate picture of grief:
“I’ve discovered that grief travels in three directions: past, present, and future. The trauma of what we’ve gone through; the struggle to accept our changed lives; the fearful anticipation of what is to come. Sadness is a backpack of rocks you carry: you forget for a while, stop and enjoy the view, but always it’s there, some days too heavy to bear.
In the dark times, when I can’t feel my way, I am often surprised by the strong light of God’s word. Here’s the passage that has lit my way recently:
Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world. And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you. To him be the dominion forever and ever. Amen. (1 Peter 5:6-11)”
laceykeigley
Good stuff.
Sara
Sweet, sweet Lacey. My heart aches for your sad and tired brain.
I rejoice with your faithful soul as you count your blessings.
And I long with you for a swift end to this hard.
But. God.
He is in this. Somewhere.
With David
I hear you cry:
Save me. The waters are drowning my soul.
I sink in the mire.
The floods flow over me.
I am weary with crying.
My throat is dry.
I can’t see
I’m waiting for You God.
The enemy is stronger than I am.
I restore things I never stole to begin with.
You know me, God. My sins are not hidden.
I bear reproach and shame.
I am a stranger even to my family.
I weep. I chasten my soul.
I fast.
I am a reproach to those who seek You.
But
My prayer remains to You, O Lord.
Deliver me.
Don’t let me sink.
Let not the floods overflow me.
Hear me.
Your LOVINGKINDNESS is good.
Turn to me.
Don’t hide from me.
I am in trouble.
Draw nigh. Redeem my soul.
You know me and you know my enemies.
My heart is broken.
I am full of heaviness.
There is no comfort. …
I am poor and sorrowful.
Set me on high.
I will praise Your Name with a song.
And with thanksgiving.
You do hear.
Let all heaven and earth praise God.
He saves.
They that love His Name shall dwell in His city.
“Keep on showing up.”
And we will keep on praying.