A Weeping Christian: When Faith and Grief Collide

A blog by Kimberly Crumby

The Wilting Fighter

Today was the day. I didn’t even see it coming.

The day that brought my wilting.

boxing glovesYou would think, by now, I would have enough perspective that some things would just not get to me. And sometimes, I do. Today, it was insurance that got me. Or rather, lack of it.

I won’t carry on with all the details, but our insurance company will not add our sweet baby to our plan from her date of birth. It came down to me getting some information that was at best confusing and at worst incorrect, so I did not send in the correct paperwork on time. She is now added, but her hospital bill and first pediatrician visits will not be covered.

Insurance. After everything that’s happened the last several years, I found myself unable to control myself. Totally wilting. Have you ever had that moment when the proverbial straw breaks the camel’s back, and the tears just start and won’t stop? And the whole time, you’re telling yourself that this really isn’t that big of a deal in the scheme of things…but you just.can’t. stop. And you know you’re really crying about a hundred moments- not just this one.

That was me today. I am a person who likes to be under control- I have become quite adept at swallowing back grief when it’s not a good time to let it rise. And maybe that’s why there are random times when I can’t swallow it back. I just wish it would always happen in the privacy of my own home. That wish was not granted today.

I find myself asking, “Why does it have to be so hard?”.

Ever since the horrible loss of our child, I have battled the IRS over a mistake that a tax preparation place made. Then came FEMA telling us that our house was now in a flood zone- and the worst one that exists for insurance purposes. I fought.

Today, the gloves seemed too heavy.

My humanness cries out to God when it seems that things continuously go wrong even while we try to follow his plan for us.

For a while, I wallow in the question, “Why does it have to be so hard?”.

Then, I remember. I remember that I have not fought one single thing alone. Not one. It is when I think I am fighting by myself that the gloves seem too heavy…the enemy too strong…my flesh too weak.

And then I ask, “Why does it have to be so hard?”.

So hard to remember, that though my heart and flesh may fail, God is the strength of my heart (Ps. 73:26).

So hard to remember that God is using others to send me encouragement to keep writing…that he prepared a new job for me in the very year that I needed it…that I have been blessed in countless ways that I do not and could not ever deserve. How easy it is to forget those things in the fight.

So, I will ask God to pick me up out of the corner of defeat, help me get stronger for the next round, and remember that he is fighting for me and with me. Always.

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2 thoughts on “The Wilting Fighter

  • Bonnie King says:

    Oh sweet Kimberly, I hate those punches to the gut that leave us surprised and wounded. You express it so beautifully:

    “So, I will ask God to pick me up out of the corner of defeat, help me get stronger for the next round, and remember that he is fighting for me and with me. Always.”

    Perfect. Love you!