Wednesday, April 11, 2007

The point of it all

My day was fairly productive, all things considered. I wrote a few letters that I've been putting off for weeks. I also started and finished Zoe's scrapbook - sticking the photos of her into her baby book, and then filling the pages we will never use with the cards and emails we've received. It was hard work trying not to look at the photos or read the cards. I tried hard not to think about what they really portrayed, or think about the emotions I felt at the time.

As I was driving to collect Nellie this afternoon, I found myself wondering what the point to life is. I feel so empty and adrift, and nothing seems to have any meaning. Before Nellie was born life seemed to be exactly as the old cliche portrays it - dig a ditch to earn the money to buy the food to give you the strength to dig a ditch.... Surely there must be more to life than this, especially as a spirit-filled Christian, right? Then Nellie was born, and I found a new reason for living. While work still had little meaning, caring for Nellie was the most amazing and incredible (and frustrating and exhausting!) experience.

Now, with Zoe gone, I'm back in that place, wondering what the point to life is. There must be more to life than merely waking up to repeat the same old monotony of working, eating and sleeping. Life has lost all colour and joy, and the only reason I get out of bed at all is because that's what I'm supposed to do - get up, have a shower, eat, brush my teeth, get dressed... but for what? I've lost all vision and sense of purpose. My purpose at this point in time was supposed to be nurturing Zoe, and now that's gone. What is left in its place?

I know this is normal, so there's no need to worry about my mental state of health. I know this will pass and I'll rediscover the joy of life. Right now though, there seems no point to anything. I eat because food is put in front of me. I get dressed because someone tells me to. I'm exhausted, but I seem to lie awake for hours at night unable to relax enough to sleep.

With Qohelet's author I find myself crying, "Meaningless, meaningless, ... utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless." (Eccl 1:2) Let's hope this phase doesn't last too long...

1 comment:

seethroughfaith said...

God will restore the colour. But gently.

There will be swirls of pastels first - like Zoe's spirit dancing in your hearts - and Nellie will bring Joy and light and life again too

but now is the time to grieve -and to recognise that life does have black and grey in it too -

Jesus is our light and where He is there is no darkness at all (1 Jn 1) and my prayer is that His presence in your life, brings safety to cry from the depths of your being about your heinous loss - and yet His light will allow you too to discover that He restors colour as He heals your wounds.