A full revolution around the sun has taken place since you died.  The earth has existed in every possible orbit without you on it.  And here I am still turning.  I've heard grief compared to travelling on a Slinkie.  You go around and around and don't feel like you're moving forward.  It isn't until you look back that you realize you've actually come farther than you thought.  So here it is, the one year mark. 
Things have happened in our lives.  We moved.  I started some community volunteer service that I've always wanted to do but never had time for.  My girls started new schools, new activities.  My life somewhat resembled a list and I slowly checked each box. 
Grief group?  (Check). 
Kids grief group? (Check)
Good neighborhood?  (Check). 
Remodel house? (Check)
Start new hobby? (Running.  Check)
Take a vacation? (Check)
Take care of yourself?  (Gym membership.  Check).
Involved in church? (membership, bible study, small group, volunteer.  Check check check). 

Ummmm......what exactly is supposed to happen now that the list is completely checked?  Well, I guess I just live it, right? 
So what's this floundering feeling?  What's this restlessness?  What exactly am I expecting to happen? 

I don't know.  Perhaps this season in my life is more about questions and less about answers.  Perhaps not every life season comes with satisfaction.  Perhaps some seasons are meant for grasping and searching.  (Perhaps this whole post is nothing but a terribly long cliché that is starting to sound like a Dr. Suess book). 

When Kevin died, I remember telling my counselor that I felt like a plant that had been ripped out by its roots and tossed on the grass.  How in the world was I supposed to re-root myself when everything that was familiar had been ripped away?  Start, he said.  Just start.  Start somewhere...anywhere.  Any way you can.  But now........life is normal again. 

The biggest challenge in the grieving process that I have encountered thus far is actually right now.  I know not all grieving people would share this view, but it is mine, so I will own it.  Assessing my re-built life and finding satisfaction and joy in it. But that's the problem isn't it?  That word: finding. I feel I could search forever and continue adding to the list.  Just this hobby or that class or this or that.  But maybe the better word is choosing.  Choosing satisfaction is more freeing than finding satisfaction.  It's intentional.  It's unconditional.  It's.....really, really hard to do. 

I keep reminding myself (and others are quick to remind me too) that I'm okay.  It's okay.  This season is okay.  I know I will be okay....no matter what. 

I will end this blog the same way I began in my very first post. 

I know three things to be true.
1.  God is love.  He only allows trials for His loving purpose. Let this one be the anchor to which everything is attached, because this is the first one you will want to abandon when your life no longer resembles itself. 
2.  God loves my children.  He is their father first and last.  He knows what He is doing with them. 
3.  God hears and answers our prayers.  I'll quote Mother Teresa who says it so perfectly:  "I used to pray that God would feed the hungry, or do this or that, but now I pray that he will guide me to do whatever I'm supposed to do, what I can do.  I used to pray for answers, but now I pray for strength.  I used to believe that prayer changes things, but now I know that prayer changes us and we change things."

Thanks for being amazingly faithful readers.  I have received an outpouring of support during this time and I very much appreciate it. 

May Grace and Peace be with You,

Kristin