Thursday, August 30, 2012


At some point in every great life change- whether a change for the better or for the worse- you have to find a "new normal."

Bryan had this experience when we started having babies.  Nathan was born, and he wondered when things would get back to normal.  Just as we started reaching that point, Megan came along, and then Evan.  After baby number three, he said he pretty much just surrendered to the new normal.  (That was also when he started changing diapers.  He realized he would never get to spend time with me if I did all of the baby care.)

Now, our current upheaval has a much darker cause, of course, but the necessity of finding the new normal is still there.  Being widowed with seven children is a unique experience.  Although having children is of course a comfort, it does eliminate the "cash in the life insurance and start training to climb Mt. Everest" option for dealing with grief.  Instead, we're left with doing all of our ordinary things, but with hearts that feel anything but "ordinary."  The things we've always done cause pain because he's gone: dinner in the evening, Saturday morning breakfast, being with friends, going to church, watching Fox News.  (Who knew Brett Baier could be such a tear-jerker?)

As time passes- it's been two months- the pain lessens.  It begins to seem less strange, though perhaps no less sad, to do these things without him.

The Apostle Peter wrote to the believers,

"May the God of all grace, 
who called us to His eternal glory by Christ Jesus, 
after you have suffered a while
perfect, establish, strengthen, and settle you."  
(1 Peter 5:10)

It's this "settling" that I think we're heading toward.  We'll still miss him- we'll always miss him- but we'll begin to feel settled.  Somehow, on the other side of suffering, will be a place where we stop feeling adrift, and the Lord will give us the blessing of being settled.



Charles Reichert said...

All I can do for you and your family is include you in my prayers, and trust the Lord and Bryan are always with you...I wish I could do more.

Cono said...

Hi Aimee,
Reading your posts always reminds me of my own reality. I admire your strength, even though you may think you are not so strong.
Here is my email,

Andrew Reichert said...

It's been said that you have to find someway to "transform the grief," to put the pain to some sort of positive effort. Not that that's easy ...

Anonymous said...

Amy you don't know me and I only had heard of your husband name during work conference calls as he was the main IT person helping the Phoenix market with our joint project. In a phone conversation today Brian's coworkers mentioned his and your blog. I was taken by the words she used to describe your Faith and Belief. I have been reading and you truly inspire me to have total faith in or Lord. I only have one 5 year old daughter and the story about the Paint makes my morning school routine seem as a walk in the park! I just want to say, GOD BLESS YOU!