My Rock

For almost 8 years, I have suffered from several chronic illnesses, and my husband has always been my rock.

He has played taxi for our children, driving them to soccer, football, horseback riding and so much more.

He has done the grocery shopping, most of the housecleaning, and much of the cooking.

He has gone with me to what feels like endless doctor's appointments and sat in the waiting room during numerous surgeries and procedures.

He has held my hand when the pain has just been too much.

But then my rock crumbled and now he is the one who needs support.

See, he was the one who found our son's lifeless body after he had taken his own life. He desperately tried to save him even though he knew that the life had left Logan's body.

He now suffers from PTSD (including terribly vivid nightmares and flashbacks), and has been diagnosed as bipolar and clinically depressed.

If you get one thing out of this post, understand this-THESE THINGS DO NOT MAKE HIM WEAK.

Instead, the fact that he recognized he was struggling with more than just grief and sought professional help on his own speaks to the inner strength he possesses.

In the days after Logan's death, my husband was destroyed. He could barely function. And I was able to step up and handle the things that needed to be done. I know this strength did not come from me-it came from the Lord. That is the only answer because I was able to handle things that I had not been able to do for years.

Such is the ability that I have continued to have in the months since Logan passed. This ability to support my husband on this difficult and brave path he is walking comes directly from the Lord. I know this because I know it could not possibly come from my fragile, fatigued self.

So this is one thing I have learned on our grief journey. My husband is not a rock, I am not a rock-the Lord is the only true rock in our lives and all of my strength comes from Him.

Blessings,

Meri