Monday, 2 April 2012

doing the hard things

A couple weeks ago, I had to do something really hard.

My great grandmother passed away, at almost 96 years old it wasn't really a suprise. But the length of life doesn't make saying good bye to someone any easier.

Somehow, it came to happen that I was asked if I would speak for a bit at the funeral.


I almost said no.

But I remembered that I had spoken publically a few times recently, and it was something that I can do. I don't love to do it, but I can do it.

And what an honor to be asked.

I ended up saying yes.

And it was like a heavy weight upon me all week. I was not able to focus on much else. I kept thinking about what I was supposed to say. What do you say??

I had been asked to share sort of on behalf of the great grandchildren. So what I said was to represent some 20- 30 people.

This was emotional and hard. I was scared and unsure.

I prayed. And asked for people to pray.

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I felt like a kid... what could I say that might be worth anyone hearing?

But again, I knew this was something I was suposed to do.

And in reality, when I sat down to write, it came pretty easily. The last few lines were all that gave me troubles.

So composing my talk wasn't too hard.
I was still afraid of getting up infront of people to say my piece. I felt small. I am of the young generation in our large family. Though I am a mother of 3, married nearly 10 years, to some of these people I am still a child. I was transported back to those feelings...

The whole thing was scary.
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I was covered in prayer and I know that helped me stronger. My husband was so supportive through that whole week. The times he took the kids so I could grieve and write and practice were so valuable.

Everything was heavy that week, the normal jobs took longer, and I felt kind of like I was in slow motion--- nothing was really getting done the way that it should.

But, the day and time came, and I did it! I faultered a few times and almost let the emotion take over. A few days later, I was able to listen to a recording of my talk, and I was proud. I sounded so grown up. I sounded like I knew what I was doing, and what I said made some sense.

I hope and pray that by doing the hard things, that I was able to make a difference to someone in their grieving. I don't know.

By doing what I did, I can be proud, I know I did something hard, I stepped out, I am more than just a mommy...

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