A new and different Christmas.

This is a new and different Christmas for me.  Some of it very exciting and some of it just plain painful.  The last 3 Christmases have been hell.  2009 we left in the middle of our family Christmas get together to go to the ER where our world fell apart.  2010 we spent alone on a cancer ward in another state as I watched my grandson's first Christmas on Skype.  Ten weeks later I became a widow.  2011 I decorated the tree alone, by my choice, I just wanted to get it over with and it was hard.  Christmas day I just had my boys and it was a very hard day for us all.

This year I am recently engaged to a man I have known for 34 years.  You would think I would be so very happy and excited about the future but Christmas brings a host of often very painful memories for me as I am sure it does for many people.   There are the very happy memories of what it was like when all the kids were in the house and I was a stay at home mom and had the energy to bake cookies.  Memories of all the excitement that having kids in the house brings.  Also memories of how hyper kids act in the weeks before Santa arrives.  How mom needs to drink the rest of the bottle of wine when making fondue just to get through decorating a tree with 4 rambunctious kids.  Memories of all the traditions we created as a family throughout the years.  And sadly, memories of all the traditions that were with Tom that will just be memories now as Steve and I create our own traditions.

This has been a rough couple of days for me.  I could feel the panic coming on last night and knew that was my cue to let it out or I would have a full blown panic attack.  I cried hard.  I cried for all that died of me with Tom.  For all the Christmases with his grandchildren that he will not get to share with me.  For all the things he knew to put in my stocking.  For all the traditions that were ours.  I cried because it is not easy to start again.  I cried for the life I no longer have and at the same time I look forward to the life Steve and I are creating.  What a strange mix of emotions this all is.  I feel confused a lot at the mix I feel.  I feel very happy but I also feel intense grief at the same time.  I am not a person who like change very well.  Tom and I have only lived in 3 houses in the 30 years we were married.  We got a new car about every 10 years.  I crave familiarity and security.  I know it is only perceived security but hey, I will take what I can get.

I have been stretched way beyond what I ever thought I could take.  I have suffered and thought I would be consumed.  But I wasn't.  God continues to be good and faithful even when the picture doesn't look like you thought it would.

So, today, as you celebrate with those who have had their hearts broken.  Be gentle.  Try to remember that grief is not something you "get over".  It rears it's ugly head at the most inopportune times and in the most unexpected moments and even when a person may be laughing there may still be a well of pain that they do not feel safe to allow out.  Be aware that this can be a very painful season for many, many people for many reasons.

I wish you a Merry Christmas today and may God bless you.

What If's

Do you ever feel like God's got your number and He is in relentless pursuit of your wholeness and you don't remember asking Him to be?

"I'm sorry, what was that God?  I asked you in the midst of a panic attack when I was begging you to make it stop?  Hmmm, I am pretty sure you misunderstood.  What I meant was I want you to magically make it stop.  But that is ok, I will use my get out of jail free card now.  What? This is Life not Monopoly and a get out of jail free card does not work?  Dang, can I buy a vowel?  I am not sure I want to play with you anymore."

I did not sign up for anymore hard work.  I want a GraceTicket, right now, and if I don't get what I want I am going to lay down on this floor and throw a tantrum!

Sound familiar?  I have been having one of those weeks where everywhere I turn God is relentlessly hounding me that my thought life  is something I need to deal with aggressively.  But what if I can't.  What if these feelings are real?  What if I miss something? "What if" is my byline for everything.  Steve would like to marry me and I say "But what if?"  He says, "But what if you can never stop saying what if?"  What if I marry him and he dies too? (That is a pretty big one for me).  What if we don't have enough money?  What if it is hard work? (Pretty much guaranteed).   What if He can't change?  What if I can't change......

The "what if's" are endless and it is making me sick.  Literally.  When I have a panic attack I throw up and shake uncontrollably and am pretty darn sure I am going to die right then and there.  If I don't die I am scared to death that it won't stop.  So much of it started hours before as I let a few "what if's" creep past the gate.  Mind you, this is not a well guarded gate.  I have lived my life there and have become quite lax.  I also have lived through some very hard and very painful things which add credence to the what if's.  If anyone was entitled to be afraid of the other shoe dropping it is me.  I wish that having lived through my worst fear gave me a trump card for the rest of life.  It doesn't work that way.  I wish I could say "I have paid my dues" and the what if's would pass me by.

Sometimes what it takes to get well is a whole lot of hard work.  Sometimes when they dig out the cancer the recovery feels worse than the cancer did.  Sometimes what lays ahead seems just too daunting to even take a step in that direction.  I get that.  Believe me, I do.  I am scared spitless that I won't be able to get victory over how I think.  I am scared I will have panic attacks for the rest of my life.  I am scared that it will be scary and hard and I will fall and be right back where I started and will have been walking in vain circles.  Hmmm, that sound like a "what if" doesn't it?

So tomorrow I will get up, put on my big girl panties and deal with it.  I will purposely replace my what if's with something else.  Any suggestions for a new mantra?

Brokenness

My precious friend is broken.  So broken.  So broken in fact that she is picking up her leiblings and traveling all the way across the united states to stay with me for a while.  Life has a way of knocking the wind out of us.  Sometimes not just knocking the wind out of us but nearly smothering us in the process.
She does not feel amazing.  Man I know that feeling.  Today was the ugly cry face day.  Broken.  So broken she does not think she is fixable.  Oh my how different it looks from my point of view.  She is one of the strongest women I know.  She too walked through the valley of the shadow of death.  She too hiked out without her husband. Hers was an especially brutal journey.  Cancer can be soooo ugly.  I was lucky.   But, she lived to tell about it.  She has found happy places in this dark journey.  She marked the road for me when I was sure I would not survive.  She watched me cry my ugly face.  She listened to countless phone calls when I could not speak, all she heard were the all familiar sobs.  Countless texts when all I could say is "are you out there?".  She knew that was the code for "I'm doing terrible, are you there for me?" She told me I would be ok even when I was sure I would not.  Even when I did not want to live.
I have never met anyone who could stare down the devil like she can.  There were dragons to slay and she took up her sword and said "bring it on".  She did it with a fierceness I have never seen and I found so inspiring.  She is just a baby.  29.
Today she does not feel amazing!  I get that.  However, I know who she really is.  Today sweet friend you cannot see all that God has done.  Today you cannot see how amazing you are but I can. Today all you see is pain and failure and shortcomings but I see.  I see who you are.  You are a dragon slayer.  You may be wounded but you are not out.  God is not done writing your story and we are here.   Borrow my belief in you and the God we serve.  This brokenness is a blessed thing.  He longs to gather you under His wings and He will.  He did not leave you before and He won't do it now.  Rest in that you amazing girl!  Rest!

I don't feel amazing

  I know some of you think I am strong and courageous.  Some of you even think I am amazing because I have lived through a nightmare and can still see the goodness of God even in this.  Perhaps you are right but I feel anything but amazing.

    There are days when I feel on top of the world again.  Days when I am OK with this new life.  Days when tomorrow holds promise.  And then there are days....  I seem to still have a lot of those days.  Days when I am freaking out trying to control the future.  When I am cowering in a corner begging to go back to Egypt.  Days when this life seems so completely unfair, and it is.

    I miss having someone who knows my every nuance.  Who knows the sound of MY feet on the stairs.  Someone who knows that I am freaking out and that this is temporary and tomorrow I will be OK.  I miss my history.  We knew how to dance together.  We walked in a steady cadence and knew what the other partner would do next.  I miss that.  Thirty years of history.  Damn that is hard sometimes.

    New is good too though.  I love having someone who wants to learn to dance with me.  I love learning a new dance.  I love recognizing his footsteps on the stairs and the smell of him.  But I freak out pretty regularly.  We could be having a perfectly wonderful day and some scary thought crosses my mind and I am on the roller coaster again.  What if we can't learn each other?  What if the dance is just awkward and dorky?  What if I don't like the smell of him tomorrow?  What if I can't predict the future?  What if he dies too?

    All of these thoughts make a regular occurrence in my head and my knee jerk reaction is to run.  If I feel insecure I want to run.  If I feel afraid I want to run.  I want to get out before I get hurt again.  I do not feel strong or courageous.  I feel scared.  I want to control.  I want predictable and safe and guaranteed.  I don't want to be amazing I want to be safe.

   Ahhh, but life is not safe and if we ever feel secure it is merely the misnomer of security.  Our only real security is that somehow in all this chaos and pain that is this life, God is still on the throne.  He's got the whole world in His hand.

   I choose to live on this edge even when I don't like it.  I choose to believe that God will NEVER leave me or forsake me, even if it sometimes feels that way.  I choose to live as if He has good things planned for me if I would just get out of His way.  I choose to let Him write my story even though this book is not going in the direction I surely thought it was.  I choose to let Him give me a new history and to believe that someone knows the smell of my hair and the sound of my feet on the stairs even if it is not Tom anymore.
 
   So for now, I will get up every morning, put on my big girl panties and try to slay these dragons that haunt my thoughts.  Maybe I am strong and courageous even when I feel so very weak and timid.

Lord give me the strength to be weak.  To let you work your perfect will in this very imperfect heart of mine.  Help me to get out of your way and to do it gracefully and with love.

Safe or Exhilarating

    Wow!  Hard to believe that it has been a whole month since I have posted.  This feels like it has been a month on a roller coaster ride for me.  My mom pointed out that not only am I still dealing with some grief but I am also going into menopause.  Yay!  So exciting to be dealing with both at the same time!  Can't wait!
     July 10th was Kalebs second birthday and a new wave of grief engulfed me on the way down there.  I love that boy soooo much and it grieves me that Tom does not get to experience all that I am getting to experience with him.  Kaleb has a wonderful Papa in Kavin's dad but it also hurts when Kaleb is so overjoyed to see his papa. Kaleb thinks Dale hung the moon and I can't help but feel an ache that Tom is not here to get to experience that.  Being grandparents was something that we really looked forward to and Tom handed over a great commission to both Kaleb's grandpa and Lexi's grandpa since he would not be here to have that role in their life.  Fortunately both men have done a wonderful job of being that influence in the kids lives but it does hurt just a little.
    Steve and I have reached a place in the relationship where we are doing some of the hard work.  The honeymoon period of new love is waning and now we are doing that tough stuff and a part of me wants to run.  I want to go back to Egypt where it's warm and secure.  I want my old, familiar back.  I feel too old to learn new tricks and to adapt to another persons quirks.  I miss having someone know me the way you know someone after 3o years of marriage.  I married at 19 so we learned to dance together.  It may have been a funky dance but we did it so well and so in sync with each other and I just feel too old and tired to learn a new dance.  Yuck!  While in general I feel like I am doing pretty good, the grief comes in waves.  Sometimes barely cresting and sometimes a sneaker wave that pulls me out to sea.  You go through this process where you eventually have to grieve everything you have lost.  Yes, I have grieved the person I have lost but sometimes you grieve the loss of the fact that they knew how you liked your coffee or they kept track of the gas in the car.  Those are the things you don't think about until they sneak up on you.
    Our little dance for yard work was I would weed the flower beds and toss the weeds on the lawn then he would come out and rake up my mess and put it in the yard debris bin.  Now I have to rake up my own mess.  I grieve the dance.  Not deep grief, just a barely cresting wave.
    Here is the challenge in my life right now.  It always comes down to control.  I want control.  I want to run so I feel like I have control.  I want familiar so I feel like I have control.  This is not the life I have chosen but am I really willing to go along for the ride.  Sometimes that ride feels like The Tower of Terror when what I want is the Dumbo ride.  When you ride The Tower of Terror you experience things you never get on Dumbo or on My Toads Wild Ride.  What will I choose?  Will I choose safe and predictable or exhilarating but kind of scary.  Today I don't know the answer but I am asking the questions.
What will you choose today?  Safe and predictable or a little scary and exhilarating?  Choose wisely and let go of the need to control.

Family Vacation

Family Vacation

Last Friday we went to the beach for the weekend.  All of us.  The girls and their families, Jordan (Elisa had to work), Jesse and his girlfriend, also an Emily, and Steve and I.  It was our first family retreat without Tom and oh, the missing crept in.  I missed him as I packed.  I missed the chaos that seemed to follow Tom wherever he went.  The chaos that drove us all nuts but this weekend we missed so much.  I could picture him sprawled out on the floor acting as a grand-baby jungle gym.  I missed his infectious laughter.  I was doing pretty well until I caught a glimpse of Jesse in the hot tub and at that moment he was the spittin image of his dad.  It was surreal.  I tried not to cry - never a wise decision for me as it almost always leads to a panic attack, which it did.  When I retired to my room I started shaking uncontrollably - my pre-panic attack warning signal.  Steve knows the signs and wrapped his arms around me and let me pour out my grief.  My fears of not knowing who I am or how I fit into this family of mine.  My grief over the fact that my life has not gone at all as I had planned.  Tom and I were a team.  This was supposed to be our team.  These were supposed to be OUR golden years where we basked in the joy of our grandchildren.  Life is just so unfair sometimes.  He so would have loved those babies.
     As for me I am often left to wonder who I am any more.  Being these kids mom and Tom's wife was who I was.  I never desired more.  I was very content in that role and now everything has changed.  They don't need me in the same way anymore and I am no longer Tom's wife.  I was very thankful Steve came because I think my feeling of being lost in this crowd of mine would have been so much worse had I not brought this man who gives me hope that God is not done writing my story.  Hope that God will give me new dreams in place of the ones that will never come true.  Hope that there is love after loss even when it does not make the loss any less of a loss.  I grieve the life I dreamed of.  I grieve the lack of children in my home.  I grieve getting old as Oma and Opa.  Yet, I look forward to what God has in store with hopeful anticipation.  He is not done writing my story and so far I like the way this story begins.  There are days when I can't wait to turn the next page but still many days when I long for the last chapter to be just a little bit longer.  Days when I long for the ending I thought I was going to have.  Days when it feels like yesterday and when it feels like life is just so not fair.

God is a good God who is one step ahead of us all the time.  He knows the plans He has for us.  He plans to give us a hope and a future, even when it may feel like all your dreams have died.  He is a dreamweaver.  The ultimate imagineer.  Oh, Walt Disney would have loved what God could dream up!

It's been a while

    It's been a while since I posted.  I have been very busy playing catch up.   Since the quilt show where I won so many awards I have been swamped with orders and busy quilting nearly every day.  I still wonder if this will be enough to live on or exactly what God's plan is for me.  I also started working in the chemo infusion room at Providence on Thursdays and I simply love it.  And, on top of that already busy-ness I am navigating a relationship so I don't have a lot of free time anymore but it feels so good to be happy again.  So good.
    If you know me at all, you know that I am a thinker.  My brain rarely relaxes.  I contemplate everything. Everything!  I am constantly trying to stay one step ahead of God.  To anticipate His next move.  To be more prepared unless another hurricane strikes.  Control.  Oy, the bane of my existence.  Will I ever truly just give it up?  Will I ever relax and stop waiting for the other shoe to drop?  This life is not an easy journey for a thinker.
     I have told you before about my whisper from God on the plane when my life was dying right before my very eyes.  In case I didn't, Tom and I were on the plane to fly back home after his last check up when we had been told that yes, he was dying and there was nothing more worth trying.  Tom seemed a bit oblivious.  The cancer?  Denial? Brain damage?  Not really sure, but I would have given anything to be oblivious at that moment.  Instead my heart was being ripped from my chest.  My life was imploding and all that I knew was being torn from my desperate grasp.  And God, in His gentle way, took my face in His hands and breathed into my soul, "Your future is going to better than you could ever imagine."   How could this possibly be true?  My life was dying even as I breathed.  The life I knew and dreamed of had been ripped away and I was lost.  Who would I be without him?  What dream could I possibly have that did not include him?  What was going to happen to me?  How could God be enough?  How could life be better than I imagined when all I could see was pain and loss?
     From where we stand, we can't see whether it's something good or bad.  All we can see is that God is sovereign and He is always good, working all things for good.  "Farmer" Voscamp (Ann Voscamps husband)
    
     Today my life is happy.  I am dating I man I truly love.  Someone I have known for 33 years.  We dated for a year and a half back in 79-80.  He is one of the kindest men I have ever known.  He is steady and smart and strong and he loves me.  This is a pretty easy relationship for me.  Steve is an easy guy.   I was lucky enough to be an adored wife for 30 years and I was afraid I would never find that a second time but Steve adores me.  Tom would approve.  Tom knew Steve and he would be so proud of the way Steve treats me.  It is certainly better than I could have ever imagined that day on the plane.  I still have a great sadness, maybe I always will.   I have days when the loss is still very staggering. Days when the hole is gaping.  Days when I wish Tom were here to share my new life.  To share my victories.  But, Steve accepts my sadness and my love for Tom.  He understands that my love for him is not divided by my love for Tom.  He is a good man.  A wise man and Tom would be cheering us on.
    Today my life is better than I could have imagined and God is good.  We view our life through a tiny peephole in the door and we do not see the whole picture.  God is sovereign and the pain and loss in our lives does not go unnoticed by God.  He saves our tears in a bottle and uses them to water new dreams in our lives.  He works all things for our good, even when we can not see it.  He is a good God, even in our suffering.  So much of it has to do with choosing to look for the good and when we cannot see, choosing to believe that He is still on the throne.

Even In This

    Sometimes I wonder what the point is to this life?  What is the point to this suffering?  Yes, yes, I know that suffering produces good fruit in our life but in the end we still die and eventually the memory of us fades so, why?  Why can't we just get saved and go be with Jesus?  Why can't we bypass all this pain?  I don't know the answer.  I do know though that pain is a great bridge builder to lost and hurting people.  It is a golden gateway to their heart.

     I have a friend who has led a pretty charmed life.  Great parents, great marriage, lot's of money and ease.  I am sincerely happy for her and often wish I could just live a year of that life, but.. she is not who I would go to with my pain.  It is like speaking a foreign language to her.  She doesn't know what to do with it.  She squirms and looks for opportunities to get back to the shallow, less painful.  I don't want to be that girl.

    It is an incredibly satisfying feeling to be able to tell those chemo patients, "I have been where you are".  When I share some of my pain from past hurts and struggles, deep depressions and panic attacks, people open their hearts and feel free to share their own pain.  In a way that makes my own suffering worth it.  Perhaps that is part of the plan.  Perhaps that is why we don't get our ticket straight to a life where pain does not exist.  Perhaps people need us and our life experiences, painful as they may be.

     I know this much is true - I appreciate this life so much more.  I see a wonderful world most days.  I cherish my friendships and family like never before.  I don't care if the toilet paper gets put on the right direction or if my son doesn't do the dishes the first time I ask.  My material stuff is just stuff to me now.  Yes, I have pain and it shows up at the most inopportune times, in the most unlikely circumstances, and often without warning or announcement.  Yes, it is painful and unfair and inconvenient.  Yes, I wish it were not so.  But, it is what it is and I am who I am because of it.  I am a deep well that has been dug out with a pick and a shovel but there is living water in here.  I wish it had been easier.  I wish happiness did not come at such a price.  But I want to be a deep well.  I want to be the person who "gets it".  I want to be able to lend hope and sooth anxiety and love the broken.  Somehow I don't think it is possible to do that well without a good dose of pain and suffering in our own lives.  It gives us legitimacy.  Embrace it.  Suck the lifeblood out of it.  Soak it in knowing that it is producing something wonderful in you.  If you don't embrace it, it will consume you.

You are so loved, even in this!

I have hope to lend!

     About a month ago I began volunteering in the chemo infusion room at Providence hospital.  This is a place that became near and dear to my heart while Tom was sick.  It is a place that you might think was full of gloom and doom.  Certainly heartache is a constant undercurrent here.  But, it is really a wonderful place.  The nurses are incredible and very caring.  There is a camaraderie here like no other.
     
     We were in the trenches together.  We ARE in the trenches together.  It is work I find extremely satisfying even if all I am doing is handing out warm blankets.
Here is a place where people are desperate for hope. "Pleeeease tell me I will be ok!"  Oh how well I know that look.  How familiar the despondency.  Yes, you will be ok.  You may not win this battle but you will be ok.  Death need not be scary.  There is so much more to this life than this life.  I know you don't have hope today but I will let you borrow mine for now.

     Yesterday I saw 2 different men with the tell tale scar of Glioblastoma brain cancer.  A scar from brain surgery, no hair and the drug Avastin.  How familiar.  I am often faced with the dilemma of whether to share my story when asked or not.  I usually choose to share because people are desperate to hear.  However, I am well aware that I am their worst nightmare.  We did not win.  We did not beat the odds.   Somewhere deep in the recesses of their heart they know that they will not beat the odds either.  Right now it is an un-winable fight.  So, where is the hope?
 
     There is hope because someday, somewhere, someone will beat these odds and it might as well be you.  Someday something will work and it might as well be you.  There is hope because for every month we keep you alive there is a chance for a new study or new clinical trial.  There is hope because a cancer diagnosis, especially a terminal cancer diagnosis, strips away all the un-important crap of our lives.  It no longer matters whether he brushes his teeth in a way that drives you nuts or that she continues to nag about the right way to fold a towel.  It just no longer matters.  This is a gift.  The gift of living in today.  The gift of now.   Sure, it is scary.  I have never been so scared in my life.  I was facing my worst nightmare.   However, I am still here.  I was not consumed.  I lived and even though Tom did not, he is doing great right now.
   
     So, to the 6th floor chemo patients, please look past the fact that we did not win.  Please look past the fact that this may be your fate too.  Let me love on you.  Let me encourage you that even though you can't see the forest for the trees, there is a forest and for today you can borrow my faith that there will come a day when you look back on all this yuck and you will see beauty.

It is the quiet crucible of your personal, private sufferings that your noblest dreams are born and God's greatest gifts are given.
Wintley Phipps

God continue to give me dreams even as my old ones died.  He showed me that my life did not end when Tom's did and that He has a plan for my future.  I have hope to lend.  When it feels like you can't go on try to remember that there are many of us who have suffered much greater losses and lived to be happy.  To thrive.  To have hope.  I have hope to lend!

Sometimes this is just really hard

Last weekend I entered my first quilt to be judged.  I had worked long and hard on this quilt, (you can see pictures on my facebook page).  I started this quilt as Tom was entering the final leg of his trip home.  I was spending 24 hours a day in our room with him so I set up my sewing machine and sewed as he slept.  It kept me from complete despair.  I sewed and ripped seams and re-sewed for 10 months.  Long after Tom had gone home.  It felt good to do something happy and productive.  At times it got my mind off the total heartache.  I call it my grief quilt.  I made the quilt FOR show and for judging.  Last weekend was my first competition and my hope was to win one first place ribbon.  The show was 3 days and my mom and Steve and I had planned on going on Saturday after the ribbons had been hung to see how I did.  One of my clients called me from the show and said he was standing in front of the quilt and I had won 4 first place ribbons.  Four!  No one else had won more than 2.  I was thrilled. 

When we went to the show I tried to stand around anonymously and just listen to what people were saying.  There were fairly large crowds around my quilt.  Crowds I did not see at any other quilt.  It was a huge high for me.  I have not had many highs in the past 3 years so I was relishing the moment.
My facebook account was inundated with congratulations that day.

The next day, Sunday,  I completely fell apart.  The missing had crept in.  Tom was always SO proud of my work.  So proud of me.  It made me so sad not to be able to share this accomplishment with him.  It makes me sad to not be able to share with him about Steve and how happy I feel right now.

It is just such a mixed bag some days.  Great happiness mixed with deep sadness.  I am trying to just ride the waves and not get too caught in any one place.

Tom was great at enjoying my successes.  Going to quilt shows and shops was something he enjoyed with me.  Probably because he was so proud of me.  This was something I loved about him and something that made many other quilters envious.  I was afraid this was something that I would never find again.

If you recall, when we had been told that Tom would not live, I heard God say as plain as day that my future was going to be greater than I could imagine.  Well, Steve is just as proud of my accomplishments.  He was fascinated with Fabric Depot and I had to drag HIM out of the store.  Hmmm, isn't God good.  Steve cheers me on and tells everyone how great I am.  Isn't God good.

These days I am feeling a bit like I am in the midst of a God storm.  A good God storm.  So many good things are happening that I would have never dreamed of.

Truly He is a God of redemption.  The God of second chances.  In our deepest grief, when all seems lost and the dreams have died God promises that Sunday is coming and He will rise again.  So much of it has to do with our focus.  I choose to focus on the fact that He redeems.  He rises again.

Happy Easter all!

The day Tom died

Ok, this is so good I just had to post.  Last year on March 14th, his fathers birthday I might add, I woke up a widow.  I obviously was not interested in doing my normal reading in Streams In the Desert - a daily devotional.  This year I was busy all day that day.  But yesterday I decided to read what the devotional was for that particular day.  Amazing.  Here you go.

Moses approached the thick darkness where God was.  Exodus 20:21
  God still has His secrets - hidden from "the wise and learned".  Luke 10:21  Do not fear these unknown things, but be content to accept the things you cannot understand and to wait patiently.  In due time He will reveal the treasures of the unknown to you - the riches of the glory of the mystery.  Recognize that the mystery is simply the veil covering God's face.  "Do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though some strange thing were happening to you.  But rejoice that you participate in the suffering of Christ" 1 Peter 4:12-13.  When you feel the most forsaken and lonely, God is near.  He is in the darkest cloud.  Forge ahead into the darkness without flinching, knowing that under the shelter of the cloud, God is waiting for you.
  A man once stood on a high peak of the Rocky Mountains watching a raging storm below.  As he watched, an eagle came up through the clouds and soared away towards the sun.  The water on it's wings glistened in the sunlight like diamonds.  If not for the storm, the eagle might have remained in the valley.  In the same way, the sorrows of life cause us to rise towards God.

  (M.e.)  Every day we have a choice.  We can choose to look to God or look at our circumstances.  I can attest to the fact that looking at our circumstances only breeds despair.  This life is hard.  At times it just plain sucks and much of it is not fair.  Or perhaps it is not fair because we can't see past our present concerns.  Every day we have a choice.  Today I choose life.  I choose faith.  I choose to believe that God will guide me by a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night.  I choose to believe that God could take all the heartache from that day and the many months preceding it and use it to drive me to Him.
   Choose wisely today.  Just for today.
 

Am I ever gonna let go?

I am sure by now you are tired of hearing about my need to control.  I'm tired of it but obviously not tired enough of it to just give it up!  Nope, with white knuckled determination I struggle for security.  I struggle for the predictable.  For safe.  Is this a lesson I will ever learn or will this struggle continue to the end?  I hope I learn it but I think part of the issue for us all is that God wants our whole hearts so He continues to allow situations where we MUST trust Him.  Truthfully, I make myself miserable with worry.  I have a friend who really doesn't worry and I just don't understand that.  To not worry is so off my radar that I can't even imagine what that would look like.  What would I do with myself if I had no time for worry? ; )  What would I worry about if I did not worry?  If I don't worry about all this minuscule stuff then who will?  See, I am needed!  Of course I am being facetious but it is something I think a lot about.

In December I went to the movies with an old friend of Tom's and mine.  A guy friend.  The guy friend I alluded to in a previous post.  We continued to "non=date", as we called it, for the past few months.  I went on those earlier "non-dates" because He felt safe.  I had a whole list of reasons why I was not ready to "Date" and of why this guy was safe because I would never marry anyone "like him", whatever that meant.  Hmmm, I believe I said that once before when Tom Householder asked me to go for coffee.  Coffee was not a real date and he was kind of different so I would never be romantically interested yet I ended up marrying him and being married to him for 30 years.  Can you see where this is going?

Steve, that's his name, and I dated for a while before I met Tom but we were both headed in different directions in life so we just sort of drifted apart but remained friends.  Because we have maintained a friendship he has been in and out of our lives and my family's  lives for the past 33 years.  He asked me to the movies because he thought I would be a wreck and might need an outing.  He saw it as doing me a favor.  Too funny.  I went because he was a nice guy who felt very safe but it was very weird to be seen in public with another man no matter what the circumstance.  We have continued to "non-date" and now we are dating.  I know, we called it non-dating but at some point it crossed over into dating I just would not admit it.  Maybe God knew this was the only scenario that would feel safe enough for me to venture out there. 

All of that to say, my security issues are bubbling to the surface again.  I was just beginning to feel secure as a single person but apparently God wants to keep me on my toes.  He promised me my future would be better than I could imagine yet I struggle to let Him write the story.  So far what He is writing is an amazing and beautiful story that only God could write,  but I continue to want answers and control.  It is a daily struggle to let it go and rest in this moment and enjoy this page of the book.
I know this much is true.  God is good.  He only does good things and He delights in cleaning up life's catastrophe's.  He will take what the enemy meant for my harm and turn it into something good and He can be trusted.  Maybe I should get a tattoo somewhere where I must look at it several times a day as a reminder that:
                       He can be trusted.

Hope

What greater thing is there for two human souls,
than to feel that they are joined for life -
to strengthen each other in all labor,
to rest on each other in all sorrow,
to minister to each other in all pain,
to be one with each other
in silent unspeakable memories
at the moment of the last parting?

~ George Eliot

This has been a month of contemplation for me.  The one year anniversary of Tom's passing comes on March 14th and my mind reflects on the past 2 1/2 years.  Much of that times is foggy in my mind.  I have to ask others about the sequence of events or who was present when.  I struggle to remember the detail of that day.  I rely on my kids and my sister to fill me in.

I awoke at about 2:30 and my room was silent.  I laid still and listened and did not hear snoring or even breathing.  I propped myself up on one elbow so I could listen with both ears.  I did not want to turn the light on.  Perhaps if I don't turn the light on it won't be real.  Maybe I can just pretend this isn't happening.  I dreaded this day.

  I turned on the bedside lamp and looked at Tom.  He was so still, (not uncommon towards the end).  I didn't want to check.  Fear, panic, grief took over.  I got up and went to him and could not feel a pulse or feel any breath.  Damn.  Damn that I slept through his final moments. Perhaps that was a gift to me but I vowed to be there till death us do part. Damn this life and this cruel world.  Damn, Damn, Damn.  I'm sorry but for those of in the trenches sometimes that is just the best word to describe the utter frustration of this life.

   Now what?  What should I do?  I have a house full of sleeping kids and really don't want them to wake up to a house full of strangers  nor do I want to leave his side to get them up.  I called Tom's sister.  "Susan, tell me what to do".  God bless her.  She told me to call Sara because Sara could get here quicker . Susan lives 45 minutes away but she was on her way.  Emily and Kavin were asleep on an airbed in the living room.  I didn't want to leave the room so I texted her.  She came downstairs knowing.  Knowing I would not wake her up in the middle of the night for anything non-critical.  Please someone, take over.  Tell me what to do here.  I remember very little after that.  Soon my sister arrived and hospice was called.  It fell on Emily, my oldest, to wake the boys and tell them.  I'm sorry you had to do that Emily.  I am the parent, but I am so grateful you were here.  Andrea and Rhys were on their way.  I needed someone to take over.  I was frozen.  I wanted every second of that day to be etched in my memory but I remember so little.  I had asked the funeral director (a friend of mine) if at all possible could he do the removal himself.  He had a service that morning so it would have to wait until that was over for him to do it himself.  I could wait.  I wanted to drag this out as long as possible.  Don't take him away from me.  Please don't take him away.  Can't I have just one more lucid day?  Just one.  Please God, just let him tell me one more time that he loves me and that everything is going to be ok.  But it won't be and it wasn't.

   I worked in the funeral industry for 10 years so I had some very specific wishes.  I wanted to wash him and dress him myself.  My one final gift to him.  I did not want someone who doesn't love him taking his clothes off.  Jordan and I did it ourselves with the help of a hospice nurse.  I had bought him a brand new oregon ducks long sleeve shirt.  I did not want him to be cold.    His dog, Bella, a tiny miniature Doxie would not leave from under his bed so I picked her up and put her on the bed with Tom.  She would not go near his face which was very unlike her.  She settled in the indent between both legs where she stayed for 7 hours.  I never left the room except to help one of the boys who was struggeling.  He had already suffered so much loss in his life and that life of loss came crushing in.

   My mom came to cook for people and take care of the practicle matters.  People would need to be fed more than once that day.  I remember them bringing me food but I remember it being a struggle to eat.  My dad came to comfort me.  He has lost a spouse too.  My house was full but I struggle to remember the details.

    Nothing can prepare you for the moment they take your loved one away.  Nothing.  I had very specific ideas about what I wanted even in this.  Tom was going to be cremated so I had bought a white quilt for him to be wrapped in.  I had made him a quilt that I was going to have him buried in but we had decided upon cremation and I could not bear the idea of his quilt being burned up so I bought a plain white quilt. The kids spent the day huddled on the king size bed writing notes to dad on the quilt.  The dogs even left a footprint.  I did not want his face covered in my presence.  But nothing prepared me for how hard that moment would be when I knew I would never see him again.  I can't remember feeling that much pain.  It physically hurts.  It hurts even to write these words and I have not gotten this down without a good hard cry.  I miss that man.  He was so whacky.  I miss his bursts of laughter.  I miss his smack talking with the boys and their friends.  I actually miss being woken in the middle of the night by a shaking bed and a laughing husband even as he sleeps.

   I feel so blessed to have walked that road with him.  Blessed to have been his wife for 30 years.  Blessedd to have such great kids who love and look out for their momma.  Blessed that God showed up in amazing ways in our darkest hours.  Blessed to have friends who would light our way when we could not see through the darkness.  Blessed that I am on the climb out of the valley of the shadow of death even when it hurts like it was yesterday.

   I am a thankful and blessed woman.  I have a rich life.  Not the life I envisioned but I cling to the hope that God is true to his word.  That my future will be greater than I imagined.  I have no idea what that means for me but I hope.  And hope is a powerful thing.

Tricia Lott Williford says "I have a PHD in hope." 



   

Vyeing For Control

I would have thought by now my need to control would have been dealt with.  I have lived two of the most un-controllable years of my life, yet I still want control.  I want to know what is around the next bend so I know if it safe to venture out into the clearing or not.  It is much easier to trust when we have a picture of what things will look like.  But then, is that really trust?

I made it through my first 5 weeks of school and it has been a huge challenge.  I have spent more hours in the math lab than I care to count.  I think I am doing pretty well in Algebra and Psychology.  Nutrition, not so much.  How hard could nutrition be?  Well, for starters, this is the teachers first year teaching and she is a registered dietitian not a teacher.  She has spent four hours each week reading her Powerpoint out loud to the class.  Don't try to have a discussion in class because "we are going to get to that" is her byline.  On my first assignment I misread the instructions and only got a C.  C!?  I do not do C work.  Then, we took our midterm yesterday and we were all woefully unprepared for this test.  There was so much on the test that we had not gone over in class.  Lot's of chemistry and calculations and the pressure was so great that I could not for the life of me remember how to do the calculations.  Most of the class was angry after the test at how ill prepared we were and we had all spent a great deal of time studying.  AARRGGHH!  I am seriously questioning whether I want to spend the next 4 years working this hard.  I am unaccustomed to not being really good at what I do.

On another front.  I am navigating a relationship with a man.  This is a man Tom and I have been friends with for 32 years. We have established and re-established our just friends status but it still difficult for me.  I have not done anything alone with another man without Tom being present for 30 years.  Marriage is a great insulator.  On our second "non-date"  I got so anxious I threw up in his car.  Thankfully he had a container close by but it was still a humiliating moment.  Even though we are just friends.  A panic attack in front of others is really hard for me.  I find that I am easily conflicted and have a great need to try and control any outcomes.  I have no idea where this will lead or if it will ever be anything more than just a friendship.  It is definitely a learning experience for me.  Who am I without Tom?  What do I want for my future?  What will that man look like?  How does this person or that person fit into my story?  Right now the thought of a real date is very scary to me.  The thought of someone wanting to hold my hand frightens me  much less the thought of kissing someone besides Tom.  Thankfully in this situation there is no expectation of that.  He knew Tom and does not mind my endless mention of Tom in our conversations.  Tom is and always will be a huge part of my life and whomever I find will have to accept that or he is not the right guy for me.  But,...I still want to control.

I try to keep in mind what God said to me on the plane back from California when my world came crashing down.  the day they told us that yes, Tom would not survive this.  I was devastated  yet, I heard God say, as if he were sitting on the floor in front of me and holding my face in his hand, "Your future is going to be better than you imagine."  I cling to the belief that God has a story to write.  I did not die with Tom, although I wanted to.  My life will go on and God has MY story to write.  I keep wanting to grab his pen but I know all too well that He is much better writer than I.  So for now I will once again relinquish my need to control.  Once again I will lay this book at His feet and allow Him to write undisturbed and I will anxiously await the next chapter.

Still Good

Well, I made it through the holidays.  I had to take more anxiety medication than usual but I made it through and we had happiness.  It is a very different kind of happiness but it was happiness.  The Tom shaped hole in our family was very present.  His stocking was hung by the chimney with care.  He is still here in so many ways.

But, he is NOT here.

This is a strange happiness mixed with deep saddness and a strange saddness mixed with an odd happiness.

The changing of the year actually bothered me more than Christmas day.  I had set my mind to just get through that day but as the end of 2011 came and the start of 2012 arrived I felt a deep saddness.  I felt sad that my life must go on...without him.  Sad that this year that has shaped me so much and been such a monument in my life is over and a new year has begun.  Sad that every passing day takes me a bit further away from a life I truly loved and the heartache that has become my constant companion.  Isn't that an odd emotion?

Right now I just try to feel.  When I try not to feel the anxiety level goes way up.  But, I don't want to feel what I feel.  A huge part of my heart has been ripped open.  My history with him has dissappeared.  I don't want to create a history that does not include him and yet I have no choice.

This has been and continues to be an amazing journey.  I know "amazing" is an odd choice of words but it best describes this process.  It has been brutal.  Beyond brutal really.  I have survived my worst fear yet  I have happiness often.  Saddness often.  I am still breathing.  I have not been consumed, although at times I wish I would be.  There are times when I just want to be with him.  I will love him till the day I die.  He has shaped me in so many ways.

I have known a peace that has eluded me all my life.  I thought that peace would arrive in a world where you lived right, loved God, and had a blessed life.  Instead it arrived in the midst of my worst nightmare.  It arrived in the place that screamed "OUT OF CONTROL".  It arrived in the most profound ways and I rest in the knowledge that I will be ok.  Yes, it hurts like hell but I will be ok.

So, when you see me on the street it is ok to be sad for me because this hurts, but be happy for me as well because God showed up in all of his glory and gave me the very gift I had been searching for all my life.  It is a grace ticket.

I have loved like never before.  I have felt love like never before.  And God is still good.