This past Memorial Day weekend marked 16 years since “the accident.” A horrific car accident that would change the trajectory of my life in a myriad of ways. Physically, spiritually, mentally, and relationally. Recovering in the hospital, the only change my mind could focus on centered on the changes to my body. Severe injuries sustained by my right leg led to the need for an above the knee amputation, and a few months down the line the addition of a prosthetic leg.

In the midst of all this change, I did not want to talk about what was happening. In my attempt to survive, I thought moving forward and focusing on getting better would be the surest and quickest way to healing. My mantra at that time became a very firm “this will not define me.” I really wanted that to be true: For me to be the same Melanie I always had been. I would not be known as the girl with the prosthetic leg. I continually thought, “There is so much more to me than this.” I focused super hard on moving forward and forging a new path, and my mind game proved strong! Although it was hard, I kept showing up, kept smiling, kept pressing on. I even started to believe that all was well.

Even though deep inside I knew it wasn’t. I began falling, spiraling, growing numb to it all. I found myself stuck. I knew looking in the rearview offered no help and could not make me better, but looking forward felt too hard. While my initial plan seemed like a good one at first, it didn’t allow me to acknowledge and feel the pain, sadness and loss associated with my loss.

In order to move forward in a whole and healthy way, I needed to grieve it. I needed to grieve the loss of the life I had planned. The picture I had in my mind of what life would look like. I needed to grieve aspects of my independence. For some reason we believe that grief can exist in a temporary state. That at some point we’ll wake up one morning feeling refreshed and completely over the thing that brought us down in the first place. However, those of us that live on in the midst of grief find achieving acceptance to be not quite so simple. 

Lament means to acknowledge great loss and sorrow. It says, “I trust you Lord and know you are faithful, but I am deeply hurting.” To lament doesn’t mean you do not look on the bright side or that you have focused on the negative. It means that you’re hurting, that you’re grieving and it is holy. God expects this from us, even encourages it. Psalm 34:18 says, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

God sees our suffering here on earth. He knows that we will never understand certain things this side of heaven. How could we? We suffer losses that we will never be ok with. The reasons why will never make our suffering “make sense.” He doesn’t ask us to understand, but he does expect us to trust. And we show Him our trust when we lament and take our sorrow and lay them at the foot of the cross. Lament helps us acknowledge the emotion happening within us and points us back to Jesus, the only one who can comfort us and see us through it. It reminds us that while things are hard here, we have a Savior who experienced sorrow and suffering first hand to save us.

What we are experiencing as a community, country and world right now is so tough. So many milestones postponed or celebrated differently than we would like. Grieve them. The graduations, weddings, parties, sports seasons, last seasons, holidays, book club meetings, vacations, yearly traditions … Grieve them. You are allowed to. You need to. As a marriage and family therapist, this has been the sentiment that I share the most with my clients and the one that seems to hit home every time! Acknowledging grief is good, it is cleansing and it is necessary. God knows when we are disappointed and He is ok with it!

Looking back over the past 16 years, allowing myself to hold my sadness and thankfulness in both hands has been what has actually saved me. Once I acknowledged the grief I was holding back, healing began and my perspective completely changed. Of course, the accident and my prosthetic leg define me! So much of who I am and who I am becoming is tied up in those things. And the Melanie I desperately fought to hold onto? She’s still there too, just more courageous, stronger, and braver than she had to be before. I honestly do not know if I will ever reach true acceptance, but I do know that it will be ok.

Today, as we try our best to remain positive and stand firmly on the foundation of our faith, let us take moments to pause over the daily tasks we need to perform to keep our houses running, the hard moments of homeschooling, the disappointment the cancellations and postponements bring, or the sadness that being alone can lead to and invite Jesus into them. Hand Him the sadness, the anger, the frustration. Lament and grieve it in that moment and then feel Him whisper back – “don’t worry, I’ve got this.” Receive His peace, trust His plan and move forward knowing He holds you in His righteous hand.

MEET OUR NEW BLOGGER

An eternal optimist, Melanie Wilson is on board for anything that involves books, sunflowers, coffee, the WVU Mountaineers, Bible Study and laughter. She recently obtained a Master’s Degree in Marriage and Family Therapy and pinches herself every day that her passion is now her profession. Melanie and her husband, Jim, love their front row seats cheering on their daughter, spending time with family and friends and binge-watching football on crisp fall weekends.

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