This day. March 21st.

One of the worst days of my year. Leading up to this day, my mind starts to drift away back in time . . . my heart starts to ache for days gone by . . . my soul just knows what day is coming.

I try to deny this is the case, but after nine years I’m tired of fighting it. Embracing this day and all of its awfulness is all I can really do anymore.

Nine years ago on this day, my beautiful mother took her last breath here on Earth.

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I remember exactly how that day went and my subconscious likes to play it over and over on the movie reel in my mind even though I tell myself I don’t want to see it.

My personality doesn’t lend me to easily engage my emotions because once I do, it’s hard to stop. It’s so much easier to try to suppress all the feelings. But you can only do that for so long.

They say grief comes in waves, and oh, how true that is. I’ll just be going along in life when I feel the wave start to swell, and before I know it, it’s rolling me over and over under the water. It’s easy to let yourself be swept away by it.

It’s so easy to wallow in the sadness and just stay there for days and weeks.

I won’t let myself do that, though. Instead, I will probably just eat brownies for breakfast (which I’ve done), call my sisters on the phone and cry, lie in bed with my pajamas on and look at pictures for awhile.

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This post wasn’t meant for you to pity me or feel bad for me because really, what good is pity, anyway?

I want you to see the reason I am able to get past this day unscathed.

It’s God.

He has been my sustainer these past nine years. My comforter, my guide, my friend who sticks closer than a brother, my lighthouse on the shore when I feel the tide of grief pulling me out to sea.

It’s OK and healthy to grieve. But at some point, you have to stop letting the grief control how you live your life.

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This day will always be hard for me, I’m sure. This day, Mother’s Day, her birthday, Christmas. All the days she made special or that we celebrated her shooting star of a life. But God sustains and keeps me. I continually have to cast this care on Him. The best part is, He never grows tired of carrying it for me.

Some day I will get to see my comforter face to face. And the joy and beauty of that truth is that I will also get to see my mom that same day. The one who raised me, loved me, and taught me what it meant to follow Christ.

My heart fills with joy over that thought. My heart clings to that hope.

If you’re drowning under the wave of grief, don’t let it consume you.

Talk to someone. Pray. Talk to your pastor. Ask for help from your spouse or friend. Talk to me. I know what it means to lose your best friend and mom, so I’m sure I could be of help. But just don’t let it consume you. Give that care to God because He cares so much for you. Even if it means you have to give it over and over again.

Feel the sadness. Embrace it for a day.

But give it back to God the next and thank Him for His goodness.

Previously published on the author’s blog

Danielle Henderson

Hi, I'm Danielle. I'm a busy mom of four and wife to a ministry man. I enjoy writing, creating, and playing with my family.