Somewhat Forgotten, Somewhat Loved

Sometimes I feel like I have been forgotten.  Like I am just a distant memory from a by gone past.  I wish it wasn’t so.  I wish emotions weren’t playing a persuasive role in me being somewhat forgotten.  As I was sitting in the sofa yesterday reflecting on the last year of events, so much has changed.   So many different things have happened.  Some things have been overlooked as time elapsed into the future.  I am different to what I was a year ago.  That much I know.

At times, I think that the months between April and June were just a dream.  A beautiful dream.  A reality I want to live by every day.  I was joyful, but mainly my heart was at peace.  I didn’t have turmoil raging through my veins at every waking opportunity.  I was calm, and I felt God’s tangible presence near me – and it felt good.  I felt like I was coming out of my wilderness months and that the end was in sight.  That things were looking up for me.

I made peace with God regarding having any babies in the future.  I don’t have that compelling desire to have a child.  I did when I entered my 25th year on the planet – back then just having recently lost my son to stillbirth.  Just wanting to have a child, something that was palpable.  But now? Well, after praying and letting go of it, I came to a place of deep inner peace.  It gave me freedom.  I stopped wallowing in this deep pit of grief, and slowly was able to move forward with still my son in my heart.  If God wants me to have a child, like I have said many times with conviction, God will have to wrestle with me regarding this matter.

Now, I entered my 26th year on planet Earth, with a whole different outlook then a year ago.  The question is this though: will I be able to achieve the goals that I have set?  Will some of the desires in my heart, dreams in my heart become a reality?  Or will I also have to make peace with certain dreams and let go of those dreams in order to be simply forgotten?  The months between April and end June 2016 were the best months of my life post Sebby’s death.  I was running, I was free.  I was laughing, I was smiling, I felt alive.  My senses were awakened, and I had this light skip to my step as when I was pregnant with my son.  God was with me, and I felt fantastic.  I felt like I was walking on air.  I will always remember those months with a fondness.

Not all is doom and gloom, often when you are in the midst of your storm you can see the beauty within it.  Losing my son to stillbirth and my girls has been a tough lesson to learn.  Leaving my abusive ex-husband behind took courage, and a strength that I did not know I possessed.  I am just thankful to God every day of my life that his presence is noticeable, that he puts a burning desire on my heart to have a closer relationship with him.  I am glad that at least God doesn’t forget about me.  OK – my wants and needs are not always according to his will, but I trust that he will work something out for the greater good of his kingdom.  God is my God, and I believe in him whole heartedly and I trust that he will get me through any storm that happens to knock on my doorstep.

But somehow in the midst of all the changes occurring in my life, I feel somewhat forgotten by people.  After Sebby had his first birthday, people assumed that ‘Hannah was OK now, Hannah doesn’t need support anymore’ or now in general just forgotten.  I want to be remembered.  I want to be loved.  I want to be cared for.  Sometimes I want to be reminded of the progress I have made in the last year.  Sometimes I need people to tell me ‘I am proud of you Hannah.  You have come this far.’  I don’t always want to hear ‘You are strong’.  Because the reality is my strength doesn’t come from me, it comes from God who sustains me through every trial that I go through in life.  Sometimes I just want to be told that being weak, that crying is OK.  But people expect me to move on and to be strong, the focus changes on my strength and courage.  Reality is I had to walk this broken path of grief.  I didn’t have much choice.  Because if I had a choice, I would have climbed off the grief wagon onto a different wagon, where my life would have been completely different.  But I didn’t have that choice, so I would have liked to be told sometimes that it is OK to grief.  I would have liked people to have remembered me, and helped me.  I would have liked to have been told that I am loved, and that I am cared for.  I know I am cared for, but sometimes we need reminders.  Reminders which will help us through the next storm and perhaps even lighten the storm that we walk on.

Finally, I am just grateful for the people I got to meet, people that have impacted my life in more than one way.  I am grateful that there is one person in this world who believes that my book should be published and that it can help thousands of broken women.  I am thankful that this person has faith in my abilities, and encourages me to keep going when the path gets rough, and at the first sign of trouble I just want to give up.  But I get gently reminded that life is all about trials and tribulations.  Through the trials in our life we can choose to have good Godly attitude, or we can be bitter, and complain and moan.  I will take the first option, and be thankful to the Lord at every opportunity I get.  I am just thankful that I have been able to come to the other side in one complete piece, somewhat battered, somewhat forgotten, but at the same time, loved, and cared for.  I may be forgotten by some but God will always remember me.

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