The Fam is days away from our six month mark in Germany. Folks have toted this "milestone" as being a game changer. As in, by six months you will... feel settled... be comfortable driving... have established routines... remember to always keep Euro on your person... consistently bring your reusable shopping bags into all local economy stores... have mastered the art of laughing at all of your well meaning faux pas- even though what you really want is to hide away forever...
And they were right. By six months in, decision fatigue has faded and for the most part the little day to day things feel little again. I don't need to Google Maps my way home each time I leave the house and I have indeed embarrassed myself enough times here that laughing at myself has become an automatic response. Aside from the
What everyone failed to mention is that something else might happen around the 6 month mark. At six months, the newness and excitement have faded away. Somewhere between learning how to order a beer in German "ein Bier bitte" and demonstrating the ability to instantly recall a "do not enter" roadway sign (solid red circle with a solid white dash through the middle of it)- loneliness will have crept in. Oh, the loneliness has always been there I suppose. But the utter chaos of moving to a new place had wonderfully masked it. Re-establishing a new homestead in a foreign county is a perfect distraction from reality. The reality which is, losing all your people to the geographical schism maps call the Atlantic Ocean. It's delayed grief and it's a thing.
We were driving this weekend, when the Middle Duck said it, "Mom,wouldn't it be nice if there was an app that people could use when they feel lonely? You could just use the app to post a picture of yourself. Other lonely people could see your picture and you would be able to find each other. Then nobody would need to feel lonely because you could always find new friends." By "nobody" he meant us. Because it turns out that the 6 month mark is when all of Team Honeycutt, not just Mom, finally has the time and energy to realize how much we miss our old friends, our old normal, our old life, and the beach... we really miss the beach. Oh, and our neighbors. We certainly took for granted the fifteen kids waiting outside our door for us to come home and play each day.
At the six month mark we finally realized the people we love most are just too far away. Now that we can finally feel we are a whole globe apart, we sorta-hafta to deal with it. It seems six months into a big move is when excitement gives way to loneliness. Then loneliness leads to a form of grief. Grief for all you left behind.
Six months in is when the elephant in the room starts passing gas. You must take care of business. Or, the elephants' business, whatever the case may be, before the elephant poops. No one wants to clean up that mess.
I don't say this to mean we aren't entirely grateful for our new relationships, new opportunities and new life*...
...quite the contrary actually. I am grateful. I know life on earth means death and so often in order for new things to come about, old things need to fade. This is growth, change and the military life. In order to have new Hellos, sometimes Goodbyes must happen. (I recall this reality sucking just as hard four years ago when we left Colorado for Hawaii, or that time I packed my car to up an leave MN for the mountains...) But this process of death into life isn't how it was supposed to be. This is Garden reality. And so, this process will hurt. Every single time.
To quote the great theologian Semisonic: "Every new beginning comes from some other beginnings end."
It is easy for me to want to brush over the pain of loneliness. It is tempting to say, "Well, we have not suffered a tragic loss in death, or a horrible diagnosis or accident or loss of physical safety. So we should buck up kids. Just move onward." It is in these moments of minimizing I must remind myself that hurt is hurt and just because the intensity of our hurt varies- does not mean we have the option of choosing to grieve or not. Because if a loss has occurred and it hurts, it will get grieved one way or the other. In my experience, letting that process happen with awareness, no matter the degree of hurt is always best. For everyone involved. Think elephant poop vs. gas. Gas is always preferable.
So it is I count us blessed, grateful and grieving. I mean, how lucky are we for our geographic relocation Goodbyes to be painful enough to be grieved? Being really sad to leave behind friends and an old life means we had really good people and a really good life. What is not to grieve about this? Grief is simply intense sorrow. Leaving behind people you love and whom love you, is a loss and it is really sad. Starting over is lonely.
Loss+Sad+Lonely= Grief every time.
This grief The Fam is feeling, while it might drastically pale in comparison to some of the things others are grieving, I know it is important to acknowledge and let ourselves feel. I think this is why Jesus cried at the tomb of Lazarus, even though he knew what was coming next. (Spoiler alert... He made Laz undead. And not like a zombie.) In all his perfection- Jesus knew, sad is still sad, no matter where your hope is. Grief, hope, sadness gratitude we can hold them all together. They can be a package deal.
So, while grief is no time for competition or comparison; ie. "His tragedy is worse than mine so I shouldn't feel this." Our grief right now has the space in it for us to stop and take stock. See, to truly be thankful for the good stuff we moved away from or lost is to let ourselves cycle right through the process of grief. To deny ourselves the experience of sorrow is to deny how much we loved what we have lost. To withhold grief is the antithesis of gratitude.
Ya'll know I don't do sad well. I would rather feel anything than sadness (or boredom). So, when my kid comes to me and wants to create an app to zap his loneliness- I get that. I get that hard. Why can't we just stay so busy we don't need to feel this? Let's find some instafriends and pretend we left behind nothing. The plan seems foolproof. Right?! But instead of hiding, this time I Cowgirled up and pressed into his and into my grief. We talked about why we were feeling lonely. We talked about how making new friends takes time. We talked about how losing friends and starting over feels like a death so it is okay to feel really sad about it.
I talked with him about this as I struggled with my desire to minimize the loss and all my faithful tactics to rationalize the sad away. See, I get on paper why letting myself grieve is the right thing- actually letting my heart do the grieving is a whole other matter.
When I followed up with my Lonely App creating boy a few days later, he said something which hit me in a full circle sort of way. I asked him what his feelings of lonely were up to and he replied, "I still feel sad, but God is still with me." Huh. He gets it. Why can't I? God is in my sad. God is in my grief. God is in my lonely. He isn't the author of sorrow and I won't pretend to know why He lets so much of it happen, but He will sit with us in it. Time and time again I have found Him in it.
It is okay to let myself feel sad, I need not fear grief because of my hope. I can lean into the lonely and grieve because my hope can be bigger. And oh how I have a hope that does not disappoint. Just looking back at the provision with which my family has already been given, remembering all the ways Love showed up for us in Hawaii, or in Colorado or all the love that waits for us every time we return to home to family and friends. This is why it is okay to bravely walk with my kids into our grief- because we know it is only for a season. We might not know how long the season will last, but we can trust that wherever we go- Love will meet us. As it always has.
Six months... six years... six decades- whatever the milestone we might be waiting for... Love is going to be there. We might not know what it will look like, or how it will come but Love always shows up. And perfect love casts out fear, even and perhaps especially the fear of sadness, loneliness and grief.
My grief need not be an elephant in the room I am praying won't make a mess. Grief can be an elephant we chose to ride until it takes us where we need to go**. We can trust Love will ride with us and will be waiting for us when we get there.
*Notsoquick end note. There is this funny thing I consistently encounter which applies right here, right now. It is the idea that if one misses something, or wants more or different then they are somehow being ungrateful for what they do have. I want to scream in this idea's face! Tell it to shut its' mouth. Because here is the reality- we are created for more. Longing and desire do not negate gratitude.
Wanting more or different becomes problematic when what it is you want becomes more important to you than God and your longing for Him. Or, when what you want blinds you from your blessings. Absolutely, I'll acknowledge idolatry is a fine line. But many a Christian, especially Christian women have silenced their deep God driven desires because they feared they wanted too much, they feared their desire was a sign of their lack of thankfulness. Sure, it might be. But maybe, just maybe you have been given that desire to actually DO MORE, BE MORE, GROW MORE. Ya think?! The exciting part is letting go just a bit to see how MORE might look a little different than you first envisioned.
We can give thanks while asking for different. It isn't an either/or scenario. It is a both/and deal. We can feed our contentment while growing. Thankfulness does not mean stagnation. For often, it is gratitude which fuels our motivation.
**Just please, whatever you do with your elephant, DO NOT SHOOT IT... Don't shoot and sign the petition. Okay? Click here.
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