Surrounding myself

I finally closed out Ian's bank account today....the one with all his money from "Ian's Wish" aka the 'Ian Hassett Memorial Art Scholarship'.  We finally got the okay from our CPA to transfer the money out to a separate account.  Do you know how embarrassing it is to cry at the teller's window?  I was doing fine, holding it together but then a classmates of Ian's came to the window to help with the transaction and my self-control kinda bit the dust.  It was just that final act of closing out his account cuz he's not here to use it.  The tellers were very sweet and even brought me a whole box of Kleenex but no matter how hard I tried to stop, no amount of deep breaths could stop the tears rolling down my face.  Such a silly, little thing but that's how it is with grief - the little things will trip you up.  I can only imagine what the other folks in the bank must have thought; I was losing my house, all my checks had bounced, who knows and I can't bring myself to care.

I'm trying to surround myself with things that I know are good for me; christian friends, going to church, bible study, but for me, it's mostly about the praise music.  The lyrics penetrate this fog of grief, almost every song I hear speaks directly to my heart; just like God intended.  Even though my heart isn't in it, I surround myself with these things because I believe they will seep in and one day when I'm not quite so numb, I'll be glad that I continued to feed my soul.

I'm making my way through John Piper's 'Suffering and the Sovereignty of God' (our grief counselor loaned it to us) but this book won't be usable again - the pages keep getting wet.  I found this poem by Martha Snell Nicholson both poignant and full of hope:

I stood a mendicant of God before His royal throne

And begged him for one priceless gift, which I could call my own.

I took the gift from out His hand, but as I would depart

I cried, "But Lord this is a thorn and it has pierced my heart.

This a is a strange, a hurtful gift, which Thou hast given me."

He said, "My child, I give good gifts and gave My best to thee."

I took it home and though at first the cruel thorn hurt sore,

As long years passed I learned at last to love it more and more.

I learned He never give a thorn without this added grace,

He takes the thorn to pin aside the veil which hides His face.