Joy Comes With the Mo(u)rning

I feel like I have reached the first bend in this long road that is grief. Just shy of 2 months postpartum, I went back to work. Shortly after Nora was born, I found a blog of a mama who had lost a child and I read months and years worth of her stories as I wept. It was her blog and the connection I felt to it that made me feel like I needed to start this one. In one of her blogs, she wrote about returning to work, and how difficult it had been for her. I remember thinking how it would be different for me. 

I was wrong. 

Something about returning to “normal” life, resuming and picking up where you left off...it made it feel like everything happened 2 second ago instead of 2 months. All of my emotions were raw and publicly displayed, instead of being guarded and sitting quietly alone in my house. I fought tears and when I couldn’t fight them any more I sobbed. I am immensely thankful I am a teacher. Eight-year-olds don’t measure their words before they speak; they were simply elated to see me and didn’t hold back their joy. Adults, because we know and understand and comprehend, tend to over analyze conversations and hold back emotions to protect others. Talking to adults has been the hardest for me. I feel like everyone is careful and tiptoes around me. The most confusing part is that I don’t even know what I need, so I don’t know whether to be thankful for the carefulness with which people treat me or if I’m ready for everyone to be normal. Honestly, it probably changes daily. With my students, though, I have a purpose to my day, some structure instead of the unknown of adult conversation. They aren’t careful or calculated; they are just themselves and they radiated joy when they saw me. 

But still, returning to work and resuming life has wrecked me in a way I wasn’t prepared for. Sitting in my grief for two months was comfortable; I felt like somehow I was honoring Nora by relishing in her memories and wallowing in my pain. And if that sentiment was true, then returning to life was the opposite so it must be dishonoring her. 

But I am beginning to feel glimpses of what is around the corner. Like when you are driving and about to round a sharp curve, and there is a little mirror to make sure you don’t hit oncoming traffic; it is hard to see any details but you can tell if it’s safe to proceed. 

There is joy in the morning. Joy in the mourning. 
Recently, this small snippet of a lyric popped into my head and I couldn’t get it out. I couldn’t place the song, either. I searched “joy in the morning” over and over but was having no luck. My search results were the verses and I read the Psalm over and over but I knew it was an actual song lyric and not a verse I was looking for. Finally, I stumbled upon the song I was thinking of, “Trading My Sorrows”. I’m not sure a song was ever more perfect.  

The bridge says:
“I’m pressed but not crushed
persecuted but not abandoned
Struck down but not destroyed
I am blessed beyond the curse for His promise will endure
That His joy's gonna be my strength
Though the sorrow may last for the night
His joy comes with the morning”

Every time I hear it in my head, though, I hear “His joy comes with the mourning”. 

Resuming life and getting back to normal isn’t a dishonor to my Nora. I can get up every day and go to work. I can enjoy time away with my husband, a small getaway just the two of us. I can spoil Nolan and laugh deeply at his silly personality. I can smile watching him play, imagining his toy firemen are putting out flames. I can find rays of joy and happiness through the clouds of grief and despair. His joy can come with the mourning.

Nora was born at the busiest time of the year. There were holidays and get togethers nearly every weekend and I felt like I just had to make it to the end of the season. But it has hit me, now that the new year has started, that this is LIFE now. This is my forever. There will not be a time when I don’t miss her. She will reside in my heart and on a shelf in my hallway forever. I will always long for her and mourn her absence. 

But His joy comes with the mourning. And that is ok. I can experience both of those emotions at the same time. He delights in me trading my sorrows. I’m not selling them off or trashing them. I’m just trading them so He can take the burden for a while. 

Yes Lord, yes Lord, yes, yes Lord. 


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