Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: Writing (01/11/07)
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TITLE: The Healing Journey | Previous Challenge Entry
By Tracie Morrison
01/17/07 -
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Today was my first day at grief counseling. Wasn’t quite sure what to do or say but I got through it without crying or saying a word. This is our first assignment – jotting down he events of the day or how we feel. I don’t feel because to feel hurts and reminds me…
Entry 3
Today wasn’t a good day. I barely wanted get out of bed. Since my tear ducts are overwhelmed and tired of profusely watering my face, the sky cried for me.
Entry 5
I started to miss group today. Didn’t have anything better to do so I figured why not. I’m glad I went. A 75-year-old woman shared stories about her husband of 50 years. She spoke highly of God and his comfort.
I never really got to know God. But I guess he was interested in knowing me because I felt this weird tugging in my heart once in church after my mom died. At first, I wasn’t sure what to do. If I was dying, then I could be with her. Now I realize it wasn’t a tugging but an ache. I don’t want to cry but sometimes I feel like I’m pushing against a rushing wind with my bare hands. I can’t hold them back. They, often without my permission, begin to stream…pour…gush.
Entry 12
I’ve made every group for the past two months. Although I’ve only spoken once, I feel like I belong.
Entry 19
Today we were instructed to write God a letter. After group, I went to the 75-year-old woman because I didn’t want the group leader to think that I was stupid for asking how to do the assignment. She said to just write what was on my heart.
Entry 20
Don’t think I’m going to group this week. I don’t know God that well. My heart is hollow. My mind cluttered.
Entry 26
I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try the assignment. It’s not being graded or anything. So here goes: Look, I’m not exactly sure how I feel about you – I’m not sure if I want to feel anything for you. I don’t understand why. WHY?!! Where were you when that drunk driver ran her car off the road, huh? Where were you? Did you ever stop to think that her 17-year-old daughter needed her now more than ever? Did you? I want answers. I want to know who’s going to fix the cannon ball sized hole in my heart?
Entry 27
I shared my prayer in group today in hopes that they may have answers since God remained silent last night. When I was done there was silence just like the night before. I quickly sat in my seat wishing I’d kept it to myself. My 75-year-old friend came and sat next to me. She put her arms around me and whispered, “God will mend your broken heart if you give it to him to fix.”
Entry 75
I can’t believe it’s been eight months already. Still miss mom but somehow I’m beginning to understand the comfort that my 75-year-old friend often speaks about in group. Smiling is becoming less of a chore. The stains left behind from the salty water that flows down my cheeks are the memories I now hold deep in my heart. I think I’m going to be alright.
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