Crushed in spirit

Writing for this blog tends to fall in the long list of things waiting for me to have free time in order to complete them. In this current stage of my life, free time is a scarce commodity. Today is Sunday and the final day of the university's and my son's school fall break. Since we had a four day weekend, I have had time to catch up on this month's long list of "to-dos." The past month has been difficult. On the Tuesday after Labor Day, my mother-in-law was killed in a car accident just a few miles from her home. 

Frankly, even though I have experienced the sucker punch of loss before, I tend to forget the toll grief takes on one's body. Because the wound is not external, sometimes we push through the days and neglect tending to the pain. We are inclined to overlook the healing process. I may suppose I am functioning at my best, but often that is not the case and I fail to recognize it.

Psalm 34 is one of my favorite books of the Bible. Not only does it contain my life verse but it contains so many verses that speak into the hard times in life, such as verse 18, "The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit." 

My mother-in-law and I had countless conversations about faith in the face of death, loss, and grief. I remember talking to her within days after 9/11 when I was 7 months pregnant with our first child. I was mulling over the future of bringing a baby into a world with such turmoil. She walked by faith and had an anointing to listen and give wise, godly counsel. I do not recall her exact words but I remember she said that God's word was her comfort and guidance. Furthermore, she mentioned the song, "Because He Lives" by Bill Gaither. As she lived a life of worship and was a wonderful musician and songstress, this suggestion was an organic one. The song remains my go-to when circumstances are bewildering or overwhelming.

Parenting has challenges which are difficult to explain and hard to prepare for. This weekend in my time with my youngest, I experienced obstacles which thankfully led to small victories. I am thankful for answered prayers and for prayer warriors who faithfully lift my sons and I up in prayer.

My teenage son has been invited to join the National Honor Society. Given a choice, he would not take on any challenges. He fears pain and defeat. After a few tense hours of debate and struggle, we experienced the grace of God and my son completed the required essay for his NHS application. I had initiated the process by asking him questions about what brings him joy, in what occasions has he had experiences to demonstrate leadership, how have others been blessed by his actions, and what would his grandmother say she is proud of him for.

The hard bouts of parenting take me to the depths of discouragement. The nadir, in its shadows, invites me to give up. As I am tempted to acquiesce and allow the darkness to envelop me, it is not the end as it might appear. It is the bedrock and where I recognize God. When hope seems to be fading, when the sting of isolation brings despair, and darkness is moments from fully consuming me, that is where I find God. Not that He is waiting there for me, but that He has been with me all along. Just as He promises to be.

currently listening to:
silence

currently reading: 
1 Kings
The sea of monsters
coursework

today grateful for:  
my youngest son and his giftings
my oldest son  and his talents
my mother-in-law
my brother
extended family
God's faithfulness
His word 
paid time off
faithful prayer warriors
clean water
cool fall weather

No two years are alike

My dad had a saying, "If you use a new word three times, it is yours." On weekdays while I prioritize my calendar, I listen to the Merriam Webster's word of the day podcast. Enjoying words reminds me of Andy. I would kid him as, my LOV, lord of the vocabulary. 

I look forward to Merriam Webster's announcement of the word of the year for 2020. The Oxford dictionary folks have capitulated to a crowded list of "words of the year" including "unprecedented." None of their choices are superlative. Their lack of definitive choice is appropriate as tepidness sums up 2020.

Just as we are often reminded that no two children are alike, this year has been a vivid reminder that each year has different events, sadness, and joy.

Despite tepidness, this year does not feel as gray as the previous eleven since Andy's death. This came to mind when I reposted a Facebook article on grief in the holiday season. I did not have my own season in mind, but I was thinking of the mother who is marking the first year anniversary of her child's passing and the relatives who are facing the first holiday season without a brother and mother. Perhaps this year is exceptional because it feels as if the earth has been knocked out of its ordered rotation. Nevertheless, I am grateful that God in His sovereignty and grace has given us a chance to scrutinize our routines, precepts, priorities, and beliefs.

This year differs from others for me as....a year with my adult child, who transitioned into the college world....a year of stepping into the expanded role of professor....a year with an amplified amount of domestic, voluntary, and occupational responsibilities...a year without vacation... a year with numerous opportunities to reflect and analyze assumptions, customs and rituals.

Here's to hoping that this year is remembered as one of introspection, both collectively and individually. 

"Whoever conceals his transgressions will not prosper, but he who confesses and forsakes them will obtain mercy. Blessed is the one who fears the Lord always, but whoever hardens his heart will fall into calamity."   Proverbs 28:13-14 ESV

currently listening to:
dripping faucet

currently reading: 
Genesis
The Cost of Discipleship
The Lazy Genius Way
The ministry of ordinary places
Stylish Academic Writing
1984

today grateful for:  
my boys
BSF
faith
His word 
God's plan
paid time off
modern technology for communication
cool weather 
clean water 
electricity

Gray Christmas

For me the color for the season of Christmas is gray.

On that first Christmas eleven years ago without Andy, it was a fog. I do not remember much from that year. I have pictures of what we did and who was there, but most of it remains a blur. I only remember that the kennel where our dog was boarded, called at 8:30 am on Christmas morning to tell me I had to come get Franklin because he had chewed his way out of his metal pen. We were five hours away in North Carolina. I had to call for a favor from friends.

The next Christmas of 2009 was horrible. After Christmas morning at our own house, when I was finally able to pull myself out of bed past 9 am. It had snowed the day before and our cars were parked on the street at the top of the long hill of our driveway. I had not packed the car for our trip. I slogged along with that gray cloud enveloping me, in order to carry each item up the hill to the car. On the first trip up to the car, I discovered two slashed tires on my late husband's car--long story short-- I believe my next door neighbor's teenage son did it.

After the horrible Christmas of 2009, I tried to figure out how to get myself out of these December funks. After all, my boys were ages 2 and 7 when their dad died. they were young and deserved to experience joy in these holidays. My solution was to ask my doctor for a pharmaceutical answer.

Now, over a decade later, I can function but the gray lingers. Now I have habits for coping. I have built in traditions upon which I rely. For Thanksgiving, we stay home and always watch the Macy's parade while playing Monopoly.  For Christmas cards, I attempt to get them out early, otherwise it is a lost cause. I complete all of my shopping for gifts before December to lessen the pain of this chore. We have very few decorations - advent candles and my collection of creches.

Each year I find that I try to ramp up my joy superficially. When we begin to hear Christmas music, I try to sing out loud with vim and vigor. However, after a day or two, I cannot do it anymore and I rely on streaming for praise music to avoid the Christian stations which have all resorted to a month of holiday music.

Each year I try to change this month of grayness. Try to "pull myself up by my own bootstraps." I feel like it is just me and I should be able to shake this. That the joy of the Lord is enough and I should not feel this way. This morning, I read a post by a Christian author, young widow, mother, newly remarried - and a light bulb went off.

[from Tricia Lott Willford]       If Christmas Makes You Sad

I’m going along, minding my own business, creating this new and beautiful life just the way I want it to be, and suddenly it’s December.

There we are, singing Christmas songs in the car, and suddenly I need to change the station. There are holiday scents in the air, some variety of cinnamon, and suddenly I feel like I need to leave the room. We are singing together at choir rehearsal, and suddenly I’m crying and crying and crying. We are watching the last two minutes of the last episode of This Is Us, and suddenly I’m tied in the knots of a wordless, seizing panic attack.

It all happened so suddenly.

Which made me mad, because I don’t want to be undone over Christmas anymore. I want only happiness now. It’s a new season. God has done great things, given me everything I asked for, restored my joy and turned my mourning into dancing. I’m happy now. And I want to be happy at Christmas too. But there I was, in an emotional setback that I didn’t want, an emotional setback that Peter didn’t know what to do with.

It seems that I skipped the sadness last year. I was pretty hopped up on limerence, as you might recall. Last year’s brand new love was drug that carried me over the moon, and it kept me, quite frankly, distracted from the December cloud of the last five years.

So when it showed up this year, when I felt the anxiety mounting and the darkness looming, I didn’t know what to do.

I feel crazy in love with Peter, but why was last December easy and this one is hard? I mean, nobody can maintain that kind of craziness that comes with the weeks of falling in love. It’s not sustainable. It’s replaced with the comfortable space of knowing and being, which is wonderful and comfortable… and a safe place for grief to return.

Sometimes I don’t want this story to be my story anymore.

The return of December has put me back in Jana’s office. This time, Peter came too, since this isn’t jut mine anymore. Actually, marriage means none of this is a ‘His or Hers’ kind of thing anymore. For better or for worse, this is Ours.

We’re learning a whole lot over here. Just in case you love somebody who is triggered by things you can’t understand, we’ve decided to share our list with you.

Emotional Memory is different from Logical Memory. There are things you choose to remember because it’s a logical connection. Like when you see someone wearing a blue shirt, and it reminds you of your roommate’s blue shirt that you borrowed for that one date … and you intentionally follow a rabbit trail to that memory. That’s a logical memory. But emotional memory is different. You might see the blue shirt, have no logical memory of the blue shirt, and somehow you just feel sad. It may be perhaps because a paramedic’s uniform was that color of blue, and it’s a peripheral memory that only registers as sadness. Emotional memory is hard to trace; it’s involuntary and it only produces… well, emotion.

Emotional Memory is the Result of Senses. The scent of a candle. A song on the radio. Christmas lights on the drive home. They trigger emotions.

All of this is not Surprising. December is filled with scents, smells, sounds, and songs. And so of course this is happening. I cannot will it away. These are deep neurological paths that I’m trying to fight, and that is no small thing.

All of this is also Unpredictable. Sure, it would make sense for me to slip into a spiral closer to December 22, December 23… but the first day of December? Where did that come from, three weeks early? Triggers are unpredictable, and they are in charge.

I didn’t ask for these Triggers. I’d prefer to not have them at all, thanks.

Trauma isn’t Longing. These episodes that send me spinning are about Trauma. That is all. These episodes are not about indulging in a memory, and they are not about my longing for a different life or an earlier husband.  I don’t wish for anything to be different about this beautiful life of mine; this cannot be overstated.

Trauma isn’t logical. So you can’t explain a traumatized person out of it. In case you’re thinking, “But you had thirty good Christmases before that one bad one… can’t you just think about a different one?” Well, all I can say is, no. I can’t. It doesn’t work that way.

Some things can’t be fixed; they can only be carried. As Peter said, “I don’t have to fix it. I only have to be available to my wife.”

My Emotions Don’t Have to Rule the Day.  Peter said, “Honey, I love you and I am in this with you.  But with all due respect to your story and what you’ve been through, Christmas isn’t sad for me.  And I won’t give up my happiness this season.”  It’s possible to read that and hear insensitivity; but the truth is, this is a very healthy response that is every opposite of codependent.  Plus, there’s so much comfort in knowing I can feel how I feel without ruining Christmas.  Peter is holding on to his joy, and I love him so much for the consistency he brings and the light that he shines in this shadow.

I asked Peter what he would say to a fellow person in the support role.  He said, “I would tell them to remember this isn’t about them.  It’s an opportunity to not be selfish.  This season gives me a chance to love somebody more than I love myself.  So, if you’re married to somebody who’s struggling, then get over what you wish this looked like, and support this person who wishes it looked differently, too.”

In case you love somebody who has triggers of PTSD, in case you’re in love with somebody whose emotionally undone for reasons that are deeper than logic and longer than a season:

Please buckle up, stay close, and love us anyway.

currently listening to:
rain

currently reading: 
Cook Once Eat All Week
Acts
The Good Neighbor: The Life and Work of Fred Rogers

today grateful for:  
my boys 
BSF
faith
His word 
God's plan 
cool weather 
clean water 
electricity

the pain of our lives

today i came across a fascinating video which illustrates and explains the flow of the book of psalms. i have learned an abundance of things from the psalms. God showed me his grace, mercy, forgiveness and comfort in psalm 34.

after andy's death, when i was afraid my faith would be shaken if i asked "why," psalms showed me how david pressed into the Lord with questions of "why?"  as this video states, the psalms illustrate how "not to ignore pain in our lives" and how faith is forward looking.  as i once heard, "do not waste your trials."  everything is an opportunity.

faith gives us hope and hope looks forward.


dinner:
sauteed chicken and apple 
homebaked bread
sweet potatoes

currently reading:
isaiah 1
don't waste your life by john piper
the mysterious benedict society

grateful for:
happy boys
good health
an unencumbered schedule for a saturday
cooler temps
electricity
clean water
safety
the United States
God's wisdom and patience
His word

Still the one

A free Saturday.....heading to the farmer's market....soaking it the autumn chill in the air....heading on a short road trip up to the apple orchard....all was peaceful until the song on the radio...

"You're still the one I run to

The one that I belong to

You're still the one I want for life"

Driving through the mountains on a beautiful fall day, the grief crept up and sucker punched me....like in the earlier years.

It has been almost 6 years and I thought the grief had thinned so I wasn't prepared. Driving down the road sobbing...then it hit me. It was 16 years....16 years ago today that I first met him. I can remember the moment like it was yesterday. These were not the sort of thoughts to help hold back the flood of tears.

On my mind lately has been the idea of whether I want or could handle a new person in my life.  Over the past few months folks have wanted to fix me up. I go back and forth in my mind...
a companion would be nice but....

I don't want anyone to take his place...
I had my chance in this life and now it's gone...
My kids deserve a Godly man in their lives...
No one can be as good a dad as he was...
God will have to drop him right in front of me...
I will have to take at least a step forward...
oh, GOOD GRIEF!

Yesterday would have been our 16th anniversary. Last week would have been Andy's 49th birthday.

But on the bright side, I am thankful that I can remember today for how it ended.

My youngest was invited for his first sleep over so, T and I got to have an evening out. I decided to make it his special dinner, a few weeks early of his thirteenth birthday and give him his purity ring. We had a fun time and I wish Andy could have been here.

dinner:
Waterstone Pizza

listening to:
tv

currently reading:
praying the scriptures for your teenagers

Acts

today grateful for:
my boys

God's presence

mountains

autumn

apples and pumpkins

laughter and tears

5 years

It struck me the other day, my youngest has known more years without his dad than with his dad.  He was just 2½ when his dad died. It has been 5 years.

I find it hard to remember the person I was before. So much of who I was and who we were as a family seems to be a distant memory. I look at pictures but sometimes it seems like it was a different life. 

Phillip Yancy wrote:

"You live with the grief as if in a bubble, and only gradually re-enter the world. You go to the grocery store. You go back to work. Eventually that outer world takes over more and more of you and the grief begins to shrink."

The grief has shrunk somewhat or "thinned" as a widow friend puts it. Grief used to be an uninvited guest, an intruder, a squatter...but now when I look back I have learned a great deal through the waves of grief.

“The darker the night, the brighter the stars, The deeper the grief, the closer is God!”  

 -Dostoyevsky (Crime and Punishment)

In the first years, when the night was the darkest, I definitely clung to God as my life-raft in the storm. Without Him, I am certain the darkness would have overtaken me. But now as the "outer world" tries to take over I have to be very conscious to make time to focus on my Star.

dinner:
on the run

listening to:
pandora

currently reading:
the question that never goes away
john
roll of thunder hear my cry
miracles and massacres

today grateful for:
my boys

God's faithfulness
a working automobile
technology that saves time

ups

laughter and tears

new friends

thankful, day 15

I am thankful for this group of gals - the "young widows" or "merry widows" group.  No conversation is too serious or too silly with this group.  We dine, we fellowship, we console, we commiserate, we laugh, we encourage.Thanks Jill for being our "cruise director."

dinner:
hors d' oeuvres!!!

currently reading:
roll of thunder hear my cry
1 corinthians 13   
kizzy ann stamps  
praying the scriptures for your teenager

today grateful for:
my boys
friends
laughter
a great babysitter 
fridays

thankful, day 10

I am thankful for music, specifically praise and worship. This morning as the music started at church,
I was having a difficult time transitioning into worshipping as I had Andy on my mind. I was headed down a sad mental road and the worship team began singing, Be Thou My Vision. God comforted me with this song...as to say, I know you are sad and I am here with you. This was a song Andy lead and sang as a worship leader. We sang it at Andy's memorial service.  In the final verse, I heard God speaking to me---and I was enveloped in the worship!

High King of Heaven, my victory won,
May I reach Heaven’s joys, O bright Heaven’s Sun!
Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,
Still be my Vision, O Ruler of all.

I am thankful for our worship leader and team. I know they pray over what they share on Sunday mornings. To them I say, "Thank you for your faithfulness and focus. And thanks for seeking out the Holy Spirit and listening."


lunch:
BK with friends :)

currently listening to:
fall breeze

currently reading:
1 corinthians 13
time's unending garden
roll of thunder, hear my cry 
kizzy ann stamps 

 

today grateful for: 
our church

praise and worship leaders, singers, and musicians

friends

God's timing

sundays

reflections

Tonight we attended our regular meeting of the bereavement support group for kids and families. As the adult group met, I spoke of what a comfort Andy's blog has been to me. Periodically, I go back and read what he wrote to reminisce, remember life events or just because. It is like I can hear his voice as I read his words.

This month would have been our 15th anniversary. So I went back and read
his post of our 10th anniversary...

...life
 autumn

...then others about the boys.
amazement
faith
fatherhood


He would be so proud of the boys.

T is a responsible, considerate young man. For the past several weeks, T has taken initiative and responsibility to do all of his assigned chores and ask what else he can do. He has kept up with his laundry, cleaning his room and keeping up with his homework. He is learning so much in the way of faith and the ways of God. I love those moments when he explains these things he has learned and knows.

M is maturing as well. Tonight in his group, he made his brother a special jar and presented it to T. They embraced and showed the kind of brotherly love that we pray for.

I know there will be days of frustration but I want to remember these small reflections on my joys. I love my boys no matter what. When they read these words and reminisce of days past, they will remember these small moments and how proud I am of them.

dinner:
at bereavement group-pizza, fruit, veggies and cupcakes

currently listening to:
game 5 of the world series

currently reading:
1 corinthians 13
roll of thunder, hear my cry
run your butt off
just enough light for the step i'm on

today grateful for: 
my two, amazing, wonderful boys
andy's writings
faith
God's peace
His word 
my brother
my job
good health 
bereavement resources

another finish line

Four years ago, Andy blogged about the presidential election....referring to it as the finish line. It is weird to think of four years ago. To read his blogs, takes me back to "before."

Things such as elections, laundry, yard work, job stress, taxes, paperwork are cyclical and annoying. Why do we let them get so BIG in our lives? I miss annoying moments...any moments...the good, the bad and the ugly with him. Okay time to go to bed....late nights get to me.

Tonight I finally watched the movie, The Avengers. I attempted to see it in the theater but the timing was never right and didn't rent it because I have not had much time to stay up late, really late. I would have loved to watch it with Andy. He taught me much of what I know of comic book characters. He taught me about the Stan Lee cameos. Most of all he taught me perspective....when everything is boiled down...what really matters.

dinner:
mexican -out

currently listening to:
snoring dog

currently reading: 
unglued
colossians
a wrinkle in time 

today grateful for: 
a day off tomorrow
God's peace
my boys
coworkers
provision 
good health 
a nation at peace
heat in the house

where have all my brain cells gone....

I was reading a friend's latest blog entry and noticed her sidebar list of blogs she follows. My blog update was over 2 months old. I hadn't blogged the entire summer. The reason...somewhere over the course of the summer....my brain cells were hijacked.

I cannot say I had plans for blogging over the summer but I didn't mean to neglect it. As a teacher I always have plans for summer. Usually I over-plan and accomplish about half of my list. This past year I felt I was regaining my creativity, memory, and organizational skills which had deteriorated after my husband's death.

At school, I decluttered, cleaned, and organized my workspace. I started decluttering my basement at home. To begin the summer, the boys and I enjoyed a couple of days at the beach in NC. The summer was off to a great start.

A day after we had returned home, the derecho hit our area. We were without power, as was the rest of our area, for the next 5 days. Everything slowed down. The 100 plus degree heat made us sluggish. No housework or laundry was done. We spent our days either on the porch or seeking out businesses with electricity. I was thankful to have clean water. We spent our nights in our unfinished, dark, cluttered, but cool basement. The joy of these days was time spent hanging out with my boys, catching up on my reading and time spent enjoying the company of friends. We lingered together in air-conditioned spots around town and caught up with friends who came to use our showers because their electric well pumps were inoperable.

I am not a summer weather girl. I will take a 20 degree day over a 100 degree day in a heartbeat. After 3 days of trying to eat the meat from the freezer, while enduring sticky skin and frizzy hair I was tired. I only wanted to consume cold tea and watermelon.

Thursday after the power returned, I was occupied with scrubbing, vacuuming, and doing laundry. I attempted to reach my mother by phone. The cell phone signals had varied during the power outage and I had not been able to reach her. She lives is NC and was recovering from an outpatient surgical procedure. I finally spoke to her on Saturday night. She sounded quite "out of it."

Sunday as the boys and I were walking to the car to go to church, I got a call from a nurse at my mom's retirement facility. My mom was being taken to the hospital. Instead of driving to church, we headed to NC. Halfway there, my brother called to tell me my mom was gone.

 Now six weeks later, I find myself once again, not able to sleep well...unable to recall appointment dates, names of my coworkers, or where I set something down. I procrastinate completing projects and paperwork, I am disorganized, and I don't want to do housework. A thought will pop into mind that I want to call Mom and tell her ....then I remember. Tears come at unexpected times. ...and once again I am desperate for God. Only the latter is a good thing.

In solitude, on wings of prayer
My soul ascends before the throne;
My only hope of strength is where
My heart and His meet all alone. —Anon.

Prayer is the soil in which hope grows best.

(found the above on Our Daily Bread)

dinner: (picnic on the school grounds)
sandwiches
strawberries
cookies

currently reading:
carry on, mr. bowditch
unglued
ephesians
psalms

today grateful for:
Jesus
my boys
provision
cool breezes and shade
good health
fresh water
electricity

questions of life

I have written previously of my questions following Andy's death. This morning I read a devotional from Morningstar ministries that addresses "The Questions of Life" which are my questions. Rick Joyner writes:

"I am not sure why, but I intend to inquire of the Lord until we know. I am not doing this out of guilt or sorrow, but so we do not keep losing these battles."

The few times I have begun to inquire, I feel the fear begin to well up and so I stop. I cannot inquire yet with out "guilt or sorrow."

This morning I was reading from 2 Timothy where Paul knows his life is near the end and he writes to Timothy with a solid focus on God, His plan, and Jesus. I admire that maturity and quality in Paul, especially knowing where Paul was at that time. Rick Joyner also writes:

"As Paul Cain recently said, "Christian maturity does not come with the passage of time, but by the right responses to the dealings of God." If we are to mature from Dennis' battle, we must have the right response to it."

Here I am in my 40's and I am still far from spiritually mature. I know God is near, here with me---where am I? How far am I from Him?

currently listening to:
silence after a big blow up between the boys (each has been dispatched to a separate room)
and

currently reading:
the final battle
7: an experimental mutiny against excess
2 Timothy

today grateful for:
God and His patience with me
God's faithfulness
the Bible

the more I learn, the more I don't know

In my studies of late, I read the following passage from Isaiah 45:7

I form the light and create darkness,
I make peace and create calamity;
I, the LORD, do all these things. (NKJV)

Calamity, what?!?! Did I read that correctly? Let me read it again. I am going to look that up in other translations.

I form the light and create darkness,
I bring prosperity and create disaster;
I, the LORD, do all these things. (NIV)

I form the light and create darkness, I make peace [national well-being] and I create [physical] evil (calamity); I am the Lord, Who does all these things.(AMPLIFIED)

I form the light, and create darkness: I make peace, and create evil: I the LORD do all these things. (KJV)

I form light and create darkness,
I make harmonies and create discords.
I, God, do all these things. (THE MESSAGE)

Okay, I am not sure reading other translations helps. Do I pursue this further or just let it slip from my mind. I let the "whys" slip from my mind after Andy died. I cannot ask God, "Why?" Maybe I don't want to hear the answer. After Andy died, there was one thing I have been sure of and have used as my total support at times--God is always with me. I am afraid if I ask why, my faith might waiver and then where would I be. This is just the sort of discussion I would have with Andy.

currently listening to:
boys playing

dinner: (last night)
mexican (out)

currently reading:
the silver chair
god doesn't blink
Isaiah

today grateful for:
my boys
God

repetition

it hit me(as it has many times before) that once again i have lost that perspective that i value. the perspective that i received when andy died. the perspective of what is truly important and what is not. what i should value and what is just foolish distraction. on this journey, we drift from those initial emotional days of grief. like a ship at sea, just one degree of difference will eventually take us miles away from where we began. while reading my devotion this morning, i was reminded that God keeps the same perspective throughout time. he's always on course and always consistent. wow!

i am often frustrated by my fickleness and by how easily i am drawn off course by chores, stresses at work, projects or homework that has to be finished tonight, the never-ending laundry and housework, packing lunches, etc. the worship and glorifying God comes in doing these things daily with perspective and love from him. the biblical story of the daily gathering of manna is a vivid picture of what I must do mentally and spiritually each day--seek out what God has for me, use it and savor it deeply for this present day and then do it again tomorrow. look to God each morning for what he sets outs for me to do. just because i felt spiritually on fire in the presence of God today, does not mean i can hoard that for tomorrow. each day requires its own gathering... perspective and worship in daily repetition.

i did enjoy and savor many moments over the last 48 hours as the boys and i went camping with the cub scouts. the sites and smells of autumn...watching the boys playing together, helping each other and helping others, enjoying hot cocoa/coffee on a freezing morning, having the physical ability and the opportunity to go, participate and enjoy.

pray, worship/live, repeat

currently listening to:
silence

dinner: (last night)
chicken soup with rice, cornbread

currently reading:
the voyage of the dawn treader
the undistracted widow
moneyball
the apostolic ministry
exodus

today grateful for:
my boys
shelter
what i get to do each day
a working automobile
the bible
God

Flannel sheets...take me away

I love autumn, but October seems to be my most hectic month. It is filled with tons of things to get done...the bookfair at my school, changing of seasonal clothes, the end of the school grading/marking period, working conference nights after full regular days, yard work, house maintenance, scout events, etc. Maybe it hits me like a mack truck since the emotional ride starts with Andy's birthday the last week in September followed a week later by our wedding anniversary. Plus since his death, I have hated doing the tax returns and for the past 3 years I have filed for extensions. The extension deadline is October 15th. I am terrible with deadlines hanging over my head. To boot, I have some other emotional decisions to make. I am decision fatigued. I would prefer to curl up in my flannel sheets and sleep until November.

currently listening to:
the dog snoring
the fridge running

dinner:
pasta & salad at the kids' bereavement group meeting

currently reading:
the voyage of the dawn treader
the undistracted widow
moneyball
the apostolic ministry
2 corinthians

today grateful for:
my boys
widow friends
provision
God's hand

Life

In my last blog post, I promised to write of M’s coming to Christ. I now wish I had stopped that night and made a few notes. These days my memory often fails me. I do recall the basics, just not every detail. I am so thankful that both of my boys know Christ. I want to live to see my boys grow up, live happy and full lives as God wills for them. Yet, I feel that I have carried out one of the most important missions God has given me.

In the days leading up to M’s decision, he had been consumed by the thought of death. My guess is it may have begun on our discombobulated trip home from Boone when he accidentally got his right hand slammed in the car door. For several days following, he would repeat, “I don’t want you to die.” I don’t want T. to die.” I don’t want Franklin to die.” (our dog) Before December 2008, I would probably had told him not to worry about me, his mother, dying. But I cannot say that, as any moment might be my last with him on this earth. I hugged him each time and told him I loved him. I told him about his Daddy being in heaven because Andy loved Jesus and had asked Jesus to live in his heart and be his savior.

As I watch the documentary programs recounting the events of September 11, 2001, I recall my thoughts of that day and that week. I was 32 weeks pregnant with our first child. I was at work that morning and I remember a parent coming into our school to tell us that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. It was up to me in the library to tune the cable channels for our school’s closed circuit system. I spent the morning, in between the times I taught my library classes, watching the monitor. As many others, I called the person who I loved and meant the most to me, my husband. I thought, what kind of a world and situation are we bringing a child into? We had tried for one and a half years before conceiving this blessed child. In a conversation with my mother-in-law, she reminded us of the beautiful hymn, “Because He lives.” That weekend was the baby shower. Five months later at the baby dedication, Andy and I sang, "Because He Lives" and my mother-in-law accompanied us.

This child can face uncertain days because He lives.

In the ten years since that day…
…our first child was born
…my father died
…our second child was born
…Andy’s grandmother, my mother-in-law’s mother, died
…Andy, my husband, their father, a son, a brother died

What does our future hold? As I look at all of the natural disasters and freakish weather we have had not only in just the past month but in the past 2 years, I do not know.I do know...

God sent His son, they called Him Jesus
He came to love, heal, and forgive.
He lived and died to buy my pardon,
An empty grave is there to prove my Savior lives.

Because He lives, I can face tomorrow.
Because He lives, All fear is gone.
Because I know He holds the future,
And life is worth the living just because He lives.

How sweet to hold a newborn baby,
And feel the pride and joy he gives.
But greater still the calm assurance,
This child can face uncertain days because He lives.

Because He lives, I can face tomorrow.
Because He lives, All fear is gone.
Because I know He holds the future,
And life is worth the living just because He lives.

And then one day I'll cross the river,
I'll fight life's final war with pain.
And then as death gives way to victory,
I'll see the lights of glory and I'll know He lives.

Because He lives, I can face tomorrow.
Because He lives, All fear is gone!
Because I know He holds the future
And life is worth the living just because He lives!

~ William and Gloria Gaither ~

currently listening to:
9/11 broadcasts

dinner(last night):
omelets
home fries
chicken bacon

currently reading:
prince caspian
getting things done
ezekiel
ecclesiastes

today grateful for:
my boys
God's mercy
salvation through Christ
our lives
the days I had with Andy
my country

a sure thing

For the past 2+ years I have struggled each time I read the beginning of 1 Timothy 5, as to me it indicates that young widows, those under sixty, are a troublesome lot. When I read this passage, a negative, carnal, victim feeling seems to well up in my throat. It is hard to explain, but I know it is not of God. I do feel there are acquaintances, who since my husband's death, have distanced themselves from us or only speak to me about superficial things.. Before his death, I would have called them friends.

My faith is stronger now than it was prior to this tribulation. I knew prior that I could not rely on any person on this earth.

"Do not put your trust in princes, in human beings, who cannot save." Psalm 146:3

This has been a hard lesson for me to learn.

When I was in my twenties, I had returned to church and was involved in the choir, leading youth group, and ministry board. One December, I was en route to the choir's Christmas dinner when I was involved in a bad accident. No one from my church inquired why I had not shown up at the dinner. No one seemed to miss me. That hurt.

I knew mentally when I got married that if I relied upon my husband to meet all my needs, I would be disappointed, as we humans will always disappoint. We fall short....we are not perfect. I am doing a disservice to others, myself and God when I expect another person to meet those needs for me. I had to "stumble and get back up again" many times for this lesson. I still do....or the passage in 1 Timothy would not bother me.

I have learned a very important lesson in my forties, God promises me he will never leave me. That is my prosperity, my comfort, and my joy.

"Blessed are those whose help is the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the LORD their God." Psalm 146:5

"The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged." Deuteronomy 31:8

"Keep your lives free from the love of money and be content with what you have, because God has said, “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you." Hebrews 13:5

When all else is gone, He is enough.

Today I started thinking of all this again when I read the following this morning in a devotion from Morningstar Ministries.

"As the Apostle Paul affirmed in Acts 14:22, "...Through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God." We go through trials, which are all meant to strengthen our faith and character, so we can be trusted with the authority and treasures of the age to come. This is why Paul wrote in Romans 5:3-5:

And not only this, but we also exult in our tribulations,

knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance;

and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope;

and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out

within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us.

Here we see a progression towards proven character and the hope that does not disappoint, but it begins with tribulation. In this world we will have trials and tribulations, but they are allowed so we can experience the power and authority of resurrection life. Every cross we have to bear will lead to a greater glory. We must go through a wilderness to get to our Promised Land. The wilderness is designed to work in us that which will enable us to possess the promises of God, and to be trusted with the power and authority He has called us to walk in, which demonstrates His authority, power, and dominion.

The purpose of our Promised Land is not just to allow us to have the good life, but rather to demonstrate the nature of the Lord's kingdom and ways to a fallen world. The greatest demonstration of the Lord's kingdom was the Lord's own life. He had dominion over the earth, and over the works of the devil. He says in John 17:18, "As Thou didst send Me into the world, I also have sent them into the world."

Jesus demonstrated the power of a life in harmony with the Father. We are called to demonstrate the power of a life that is likewise in unity with Him by abiding in the Son."

That is a victory. I am victorious not a victim.

grace & peace...

I realized

Not a day goes by that I do not think of Andy multiple times. In fact, probably I am more aware of my thoughts of him now than when he was alive. I think we tend to take people in our lives for granted.
We take for granted
they are there when we get home,
they are there when we go to pick them up,
they are there when we call them on the phone,
they are there when we call their names out loud,
they are there when we go to wake them up in the morning,
they are there at the start of each day,
they are there when we go to say goodnight.

It is when someone is not in one of those places and times in which we expected them that we realize, we took it for granted.

For 2 1/2 years, I have had many instances where I felt the emptiness of one of those times or I looked into Andy's eyes in one of the photographs of him and thought to myself, "I cannot believe he is not here," or "I cannot believe he is gone." A denial of sorts---yet I knew it was true.

This morning I realized that I have not had such a thought in a while. I don't know how long. I just seemed to notice this morning.

currently listening to:
quiet (before the Saturday morning cartoon storm)

dinner: (last night)
smoky sweet flank steak
new potatoes
mandarin orange spinach salad

currently reading:
5 conversations you must have with your son
the reading promise
the magician's nephew
it's all too much
hebrews/2corithinians/1thessalonians

today grateful for:
Christ
my boys
my mother-in-law
the Bible
clean water
in the house plumbing
coffee
our home
God's presence

a 2 x 4

I feel like I am hitting someone with an emotional 2 x 4 when I tell them that my husband died. A few weeks after Andy died, I ran into the parent of one of T's classmates. The classmate had been on the soccer team that Andy coached. This parent had no idea Andy had died and when I told her, it was as if I had physically hit her. She stood silent with her mouth literally hanging open for what seemed to be a long time.

Yesterday, I was chatting with a new neighbor who has a son the same age as M. Her son and M are quickly becoming good friends. I was trying to explain M's mood. M was in a grumpy mood yesterday, because he was extremely disappointed when his counseling appointment was changed to a conflict in our counselor's schedule. As part of my explanation, I just stated that my husband had died 2 1/2 years ago. Her disconcerted expression and physical reaction made me wish I knew another way of telling her. It made me wish I had even just a bit of Andy's social skills---his ability to read others and empathize.

currently listening to:
brothers playing

dinner(last night):
penne with tomato cream sauce, edamame

currently reading:
john, joshua
the privilege of persecution

today grateful for:
my boys
a nice neighbor
the bible
a friend for M
springtime
provision