Feeling in the Space.

I've been thinking lately about space, and how important it is to make space for all the wonderful humans in this world.  It is just as important to make space within us.  I've been thinking about the many dreams I have... the unknowing, the excitement, and the frustration.  The dreams of what *could have been, and the ones that could still be.  Living with grief makes us do that sometimes, let our minds wander just a bit about how things would be different if they were still here.


I have heard so many people talk about filling the space of grief or hurt with something good, or replacing it with something else.  Whether a hobby, job, or merely ignoring it and keeping busy.




Maybe God doesn't fill the space at all...and maybe we shouldn't, either. 
Maybe God allows us to be bold enough to *feel*  in the spaces of our grief.... rather than just fill them in.


It is the harder path to take.  It causes us to face the hard questions, the hard doubts, the anger, and the frustration.  It calls us to one another, even when it's not convenient.  (Death and grief are never convenient, by the way.)  It makes us give of ourselves from those deep places of tenderness and vulnerability, the spaces that are riddled with doubt.  Sometimes, those are the best places to give from.


I'd much rather FEEL in it all, than fill it in with something shallow and substandard. 


Life is much too short and precious to never feel the grief of what could have been.




(The Offspring made this picture.  The assignment was to draw about giving to one another.  I adore where his heart and brain went with the idea.)

Your Tears are a Means to an End, Your Pain is God's Project. (NO!!!)

*We talk so much about how deeply we miss you, and that's because we love you so deeply.  We miss you on birthdays, holidays, and other big milestones that keep getting passed throughout our lives.  You always poured so much of yourself into us.  As a very special person once pointed out to me, you were always good at making those around you feel special.  This coming Saturday is your birthday.  February 7th.  More than words can express...we wish you were here, so we could celebrate you.  We'd make a big deal about you, reminding you how loved you were (are).  If you were still here, that's exactly what would be on the agenda for this weekend.  Momma, you are so missed.  The following post is not only in memory of you, but in honour of you.  I miss and love you so much.*






God takes everything bad, and makes it good...and the same will happen with your grief.
God's timing is perfect, so trust that He let it all happen for a reason.
God is trying to teach you something.
It's in your pain that God is using you for others, so just trust the "plan".
All the tragedy is happening to get you to a "deeper" place in your life.
God is allowing the tragedy to happen to you, so you can help others...








***As if God uses our deep, miserable, dark, aching grief as a means to an end.**
 I have heard phrases like those listed above countless times over the past few years.  I know so many other precious humans who've heard the same things.



May it never be!  May we never see our grief as a way to "polish", or "mold" us into something. 
May we never view grieving people as projects!!!
May we never, ever, ever, ever, ever cast aside another person's sorrow as a "stepping stone" in their
faith, ignoring the very real and obvious emptiness death leaves them with.


When one is given grief, it lives in every moment.
Grief is now.
Grief is here.
Grief is raw.
It fills your Tuesdays, your Sundays, your afternoon coffee, your morning yawn. 





May we all stop looking in on someone as they ache from the inside out, thinking and saying, "Well, God is trying to teach them something."


Maybe, just maybe.......God wants to teach you how to hurt with them.
Maybe that's the lesson.
Maybe it has more to do with you.
Maybe it is to teach you empathy, love, compassion, and feeling.
Or maybe.....it just IS.
NO lesson at all, for anyone.
NO big scheme to pull you into a "better" you.
Maybe the sorrow is just here.
Maybe we just need to learn to live in the darkness, the uncomfortable silence, the sadness, the tears, the loneliness.  Maybe, just maybe.  Maybe we can learn to just *sit* with one another 
through the pain.  Maybe God meets us in our pain, and hurts with us...





Living with grief is not something people choose.  When we've lost someone we love, it happens TO us, not BECAUSE of us.


If God is so macabre to have to inflict heavy pain on us to teach us some "lesson", then I want no part.





I believe God is much more loving than that, my friends.





Putting my heart, tears, and sorrows into writing...then binding them all up in a book, are not ways to say, "Hey, look what good came of this!".... 


May it never be seen that way!!!


One of the reasons I write about the hellish world of living with grief is to meet other humans in their own grief.  Maybe to open their eyes about dealing with it.  Maybe to just help myself.  Maybe to open someone else up to helping their loved one carry that grief. 
But never, NEVER, as a cheap way to eclipse the Deep Sadness I carry in living without my Momma...


That is a cheap way to view life.
That is a cheap way to view death.
That is a cheap way to view grief.
And that is a cheap way to view God.








Everytime I've heard words uttered like the clichés listed above, I want to say, "Yeah, you're right.  God let my Momma die early, tragically, unexpectedly, hellishly, all because I needed to learn a lesson.  My Daddy needed to learn something.  My sister needed a lesson.  My Momma's siblings, her friends.  Though it's an absolutely egotistical way to view life,  I'm so thankful God did that, aren't you???".......though I've never actually said any of that.  But sometimes, it takes a shock like that in someone's ears to get through to the cold things we often say.  Don't repeat things just because you've heard them, words are important. 


I only considered publishing some of these pieces of myself after thinking of all the other people who reached out to me in their grief, because grief is pure hell.  And when you're alone in it, it's worse.  And when someone is telling you empty things about it, adding their own theology to it, and telling you you're "doing it wrong".....well, I am unable to even describe how damaging that is.






May you realize in your grief that it is never meant to be a means to an end.  May you know your hurt is real, it is deep, it is raw.  May you remember that God meets you in it, and doesn't cancel out your pain with a cheap cliché.


May you always be free to grieve.

Pieces of Me, In a Single Piece

There are so many reasons not to.

I don't have time.
I'm doing too much already, why add another thing?
It's going to exhaust me.
It's going to be mentally draining.
It's going to hurt emotionally.
It's hard enough dealing with grief, let alone writing about it.
Who would even bother reading?
Who would even support me in this?
I have no letters after my name.  Because of that, what I write about really shouldn't be taken seriously.
Who am I, little ol' me, that anybody would care to read?
Is my story even important?
Are my thoughts, my heart, my soul being laid bare, even worthy of someone taking the time to read about?
What difference would it make?
Really, who cares?




***These are all honest thoughts I have had.  I'm quite sure I'll continue to have them.  I could add to the list, but that's the crux of it all.



She sat in the rocking chair, rocking that sweet little toddler.  He giggled.  She prayed with him, laughed with him, sang to him, and she tucked him into his bed.



Minutes later, life would change forever.  Her new best friend, her Momma, whom she'd been getting to know more intimately since becoming a mother herself, would leave this world behind 10 very long and brutal days after that phone call.



It's for that young lady's little boy that I write.  It's for that young lady's husband that I write.

For all the times she cried herself to sleep, running out of strength to cry anymore, I write.
For all the days she saw another girl her age spending time with her Mother, watching them go on shopping trips, seeing them enjoy a coffee together, I write.

For all the days she wished her Momma would walk in her house, babysit her son so she and her husband could go out on a much needed date...I write.
For all the times she wanted to call her Momma and ask her questions about her own childhood, I write.  For all the times she just wanted to get into a good ol' mother/daughter argument, I write.  For all the moments of remembering, wishing memories of my Momma would be replaced with new experiences with her, I write.


For over seven years, I have used this blog as a place to write about the grief thrusted upon me since losing my sweet Momma.  Life handed me this deep, empty, ongoing heartache...and I have so many questions about it.  So many frustrations, so many doubts.
Love is unending, indescribable, so vast that it fills our hearts and our days with things that will not fit into words.  If love is so massive that it can't be contained in our words, then naturally, grief is just as vast.  Just as unending.  Just as indescribable.

One thing I know, it will never end.  Grief, in all its messiness, will always be something I carry.



For all the sweet humans I've had the privilege of talking to, who have sent messages to me, cried with me, who carry this great burden of grief that should never be carried alone...wondering if they are alone in their tears...I write.




It's been a long time coming, y'all.
I'll be piecing together select writings from this blog, and putting it all in one thing.  That thing is called a BOOK.   !!!!!!!   I'm excited and scared.  There are still plenty of questions, lots of uncertainties, and I am sure I'll continue to second guess this decision.  I think my husband will keep nudging me along. (Lord knows I'll need it.)  I can think of a million and seven reasons not to do this.  It's hard stuff to live with, and it's hard to write about.  Naturally, this is a little intimidating to me.  However, it needs to be done.  If the only person who gets a copy and reads it is my husband, so be it.  I'm doing this in memory of my Momma, in honour of her.  I miss you, and you are so much more
than memories.  I love you, Momma.  I'm doing this to document my story, filled with deep sorrow, filled with anger, questions, frustrations, tears, faithless moments...full of unending grief.  (Because grief is unending.) This is my way of speaking to the depths of grief others carry.  Never sugarcoating this dark burden.  Always raw and honest. It is my way of letting you know that in your grief, you are not alone.



So I guess, stay tuned?  Or something?  : )  Or, ignore and carry on, if you prefer.


I hope my story in this upcoming book can help other precious humans learn to embrace the grief that was thrust upon them.




"Bear one another's burdens, and thereby fulfill the law of Christ." 
Galatians 6:2

Grief is Not Like a Scar.

When I think of the past several years without my Momma, I now realize I have done a lot of creating.  My eyes have created tears through this grief.  My heart has created space for the sorrow where her presence once resided.  I have written so much.  For myself, for her, and for others who carry the burden of grief.
Maybe there was a small part of me that thought one day I'd run out of words to say. 
I am now certain that will never happen. 




By no means is this blog a journal.  There are so many things I do not publish about my grief.  There are some things my heart will never share---too intimate, too scary, too sorrowful.  There are things I know people would just never want to read.  For those who have read my tough writings on grief, I know that is saying a lot...because I do share so much from the emptiness grief gives us. 


I have learned that diving into the bottomless ocean of grief has been so freeing.  I am free to grieve for my Momma, without any expectations from anybody, without a timetable, without the barriers others have placed on themselves, and have tried to place on one another. 




I have learned to live in the graceful and dark corridors of grief, to navigate through the pitch black halls...because my eyes have adjusted to the darkness. 
And learning to live with this darkness helps me live with all the light.


It has made me live with such a full appreciation, to breathe in the love and laughter that fills so many other rooms in this vast life. 

*I hope, if even for a tiny moment, all the feels I pour out through this little blog of mine help you feel the freedom that grief brings.* 




We all lead different lives, we all experience different losses, we all have a choice in how we handle the emptiness that grief leaves each of us.  Some of us never tell our stories, and that is okay.  For me, I write.  I tell it.  I have been where damaging things were said regarding grief, especially when people used their "god" to manipulate others into how they ought to deal with grief.  That is just one of the many reasons I openly wrestle this animal. 




God, our images of god, our theologies, etc., are all very dear and important things to me.  I refuse to let empty theologies on God and grief be the crux of what is handed over to those in my life.



I don't have all the answers, but there is one thing I am certain of...
For all of my heavy tears that have fallen...for the times my heart feels like it is broken into pieces...when my spirit has been overwhelmed by grief...


Those are the times I know the presence of God has been near.  Beyond any doubt.  Even though I search for God, study things regarding this God, and try with all of myself to know God...so often it feels like trying to grab smoke.  But...in those times I have thought of my Momma, the emptiness we have in her place, and the tears have fought their way through my big, brown eyes...
I know God has been with me. 




God has to be...because this deep grief, I cannot bear alone.  And I shouldn't.  And neither should you.




It's hard to hear, isn't it?  It's heartbreaking to know someone hurts so much.  It stabs at our souls.
But we are supposed to be the Body...
And part of what the Body does is carry the rest of the load when one part is hurting.  Though unlike a broken limb, or a deep gash, grief remains exposed.  It refuses to scar over, it will not allow a cast to straighten it out...it remains.


May you never feel alone in your grief.  May you know this God is with you, may we be the Body, and show you that YOU...the one who lives your days with the great burden of grief, are never alone.


This is written In Memory of My Momma...though you are so much more than *just* a memory.  I love you, and I miss you everyday.


Darkness of December


Though she's no longer here, I still go on.
Through winter, fall, summer, spring, and dawn.
There are days I feel the sadness cover,
But I will keep on living, though I live the days without
My Mother.


The ice has covered everything today.
It all glistens now, so hauntingly.
I think of the life she lived, her heartfelt laugh,
And remember my hometown that now holds her in Texhoma,
My Momma.


The days that keep on passing never cease,
And so often how I feel the grief increase.
I cling to all the memories we were given,
And think of one sweet day that I will see her once again
In Heaven.


Though she isn't here to talk with I still know her...
And eerily it seems like some days she's closer.
It's been so many years since I've heard her say my name
And I'd give anything to talk to her on any day,
My Momma.


Christmas was her favorite time of year.
So now I deck these walls in holly gear.
These tears can come so easily now to me,
As I see the Christmas angels how I long to see her once more,
My Momma.


The one who grew my very body is now gone.
Who kissed my tender face first, my sweet Mom.
I'll live these days without her now,
I'll get it figured out somehow,
I hope.


Tonight the memories haunt, they all surround me.
I know tonight won't be a time for happy.
The tears are coming out now, and I've learned that it's okay-
In fact I swear this God is closer when the grief has its own way,
So I'll sit and let them fly, I'll let the heart of God surround me
On this day.


I laugh a lot throughout the days, it's true.
I start the moments God's given me all anew.
As hours turn to days and years,
I'll keep going through the fear,
God I wish she could see her grandson here,
I miss her every day and year,
I know God holds my every tear,
I'll  remember your voice in my ear,
My Momma.


J.N.S.
December 4th, 2014

Sometimes, Looking Back Helps Us Look Forward.

I wrote the following poem in March of 2009, it had only been a little over a year since losing our sweet Momma.  I am thinking of many loved ones, as they are grappling with grief.  None of us walk the same path, the beauty of this life is the diversity of us all.  But we do walk together. 


I was 27.  A new Momma, myself.  I was looking forward to sharing the rest of this crazy life with Momma.  I was looking forward to the close friendship we shared, as I'd become a young woman who had gotten past the stage of seeing all her faults.  I saw her as she was, the best Momma ever.
I was cheated. 
There's a side of God I've become more acquainted with after all these years, the side I still argue with...rage against...question...and often ignore, as well.  Because I know God can handle that.  I know God understands the feelings I have of being cheated, of watching other women my age have their mothers come and take care of them, take care of their grandchildren, clean out their refrigerators, bring them medicine when they're sick, listen to them tell about the humdrum ins and outs of their days.  God understands the feels I have when watching other women have the luxury of simply talking to their mothers...


God knows. 


I'm okay with the questioning, with the anger, with the grief that comes in deep waves, and never knowing which way I'll get hit.  I'm okay with it, because I know God understands the deep sadness from within.


For you sweet, beautiful souls who wrestle with grief, I write.  You are not alone.  You are loved.  I have no answers, but please know that you are a big reason behind the sharing of my soul on this little blog.  Hang in there, Sweet You.















HE WROTE A NOTE JUST FOR YOU TODAY,
YOUR GRANDSON WHO IS JUST FOUR.
HE DOESN’T QUITE UNDERSTAND THAT
HE’LL NEVER GET TO SEE YOU ANYMORE.

SOME DAYS ARE HARDER THAN OTHERS,
TODAY IS ONE THAT’S BEEN BLUE.
ACTUALLY, IT’S BEEN A GOOD YEAR,
MOMMA, I CAN’T STAND LIFE WITHOUT YOU.

THERE’S SO MUCH GOOD HERE, I KNOW.
BUT IT WAS BETTER WHEN YOU WERE HERE.
I NEVER THOUGHT I’D BE HERE WRITING
THESE WORDS, THAT YOU’D NO LONGER BE NEAR.

BUT I GUESS YOU’RE NEARER THAN I KNOW,
IN WAYS I SIMPLY CAN’T UNDERSTAND NOW.
I KNOW LIFE WILL KEEP MOVING ALONG,
BUT SOME DAYS I HAVE TO WONDER HOW.

I MISS THAT I CAN’T CALL YOU EVERYTIME
AND SHARE WITH YOU ALL THAT’S HAPPY,
I MISS THAT I CAN’T HEAR YOU CALM ME
WHEN LIFE BRINGS MORE TRAGEDY.

I MISS BEING ABLE TO HEAR YOU LAUGH
WHEN YOUR GRANDSON DOES THE CUTEST THINGS…
IT’S MOMENTS LIKE THIS WHEN I HAVE TO TRUST
THAT I’M BEING SHELTERED BY ANGEL’S WINGS.

AT TIMES IT SEEMS SO LONELY,
LIKE NOBODY’S THERE TO LISTEN TO ME.
I HAVE TO KEEP ON GOING, TRUSTING,
AND REMEMBER HE HAS NOT LEFT ME.

I WONDER HOW I’LL GET THROUGH ALL
THE MILESTONES IN THE YEARS AHEAD,
YOU’RE STILL ALWAYS THE ONE I WANT TO CALL,
BUT I’LL HAVE TO SETTLE FOR ANOTHER INSTEAD.

IT’S NOT THAT I DON’T HAVE ANYONE ELSE,
GOT A GREAT HUSBAND, CHILD, FATHER AND SIS.
BUT LATELY YOU’RE ALL I’VE WANTED TO
SEE, GOD HELP ME MAKE IT THROUGH THIS.

GOD HELP ME ON DAYS WHEN I’M LONELY.
GOD HELP ME WHEN ANGER COMES BACK.
GOD HELP ME WHEN I ASK THE SAME QUESTIONS AGAIN,
GOD PLEASE COME AND PICK UP THE SLACK.

GOD COMFORT ME, BECAUSE I CAN’T DO IT.
SOMETIMES WEEPING IS ALL I CAN DO.
GOD TELL MY MOMMA I MISS HER SO MUCH,
AND THAT I SAID, “I LOVE YOU.”

GOD HELP OTHERS WHO FEEL THIS PAIN,
WRAP YOUR ARMS AROUND US WHO ARE HEAVY WITH GRIEF.
PLEASE WHISPER HOPE INTO OUR EARS AND HEARTS,
AND PLEASE SEND US YOUR SWEET RELIEF.

HELP US TO KNOW THE LONELINESS HERE
WILL VANISH ONE BEAUTIFUL DAY.
HELP US TO KNOW YOU KNOW HOW WE FEEL,
IN EACH AND EVERY WAY.

HELP US TO KEEP GOING, AS WE REMEMBER
THE LOVED ONES THAT WE MISS.
HELP US KEEP ENJOYING THE LIFE WE HAVE HERE,
AND REMEMBER IT WON’T ALWAYS BE LIKE THIS.


J.N.S. March 7, 2009

The Courage to Grieve.

There is something our Sweet Bean always says regarding courage. 




“Courage doesn’t mean that you’re not scared.  It means you’re scared out of your mind, but you do what you have to do.”

 

Since the Deep Sadness, so much has happened.  It seems like minutes ago that we received the phone call about her.  Yet it seems like ages ago.  That is one way grief is so excruciating.  We look back and realize how long we've been going on without them.  Yet we want to always go back to that moment just before tragedy happened....when they were still here with us.

But in life, we are moving forward.  There's nothing we can do about that, that's just the way things are.  How hard it is to deal with the sadness and loneliness of grief.  How heartbreaking it is to let the tears flow when we just want her back.  How haunting it is to remember the face and the voice of the loved one we miss every moment.  How painful it is to see people take each other for granted when they have this precious gift of life radiating from them.

The work of grief I’ve done all these years has done nothing but give me courage, it's given me the great courage to grieve.

In the weakness of grief, we recognize how vulnerable we are.  We affirm that we need one another.  We understand the beauty of this life.  We learn to carry one another, which is more sacred than we can imagine.

Grief makes us vulnerable.

And vulnerability is not a flaw.

It's through being vulnerable that LOVE is born.  And as I've written before, grief goes hand in hand with love.

As we do the fun planning for our Offspring's big TENTH birthday party, there will be moments of grief.  I know from the past few years that they can blow in like a strong breeze out of nowhere.  I know they can be heavy.  I know they may not come until another time.  Either way, they will come.  That is another way of grief.

Grief is like the night...dark but always approaching,

Like the day...full of expectations, but often filled with heartache,

Like the moon...sitting in darkness, yet reflecting the light,

Like the sun...always there, but sometimes hidden by the storm below.

 

Sweet and Sorrowful You, You're Not Alone.

When I started writing about grief, this blog was a safe place for me.  I needed it more than I can describe.  When I took everything I had believed, been taught, and been told up to that point in my life....and aligned it with what was happening in my life---(happening TO me, not what I'd brought on myself,) nothing lined up.  Nothing matched.  Nothing meshed.  Whatever the word is that describes it, it was not jivin', y'all.

After all these years, I am still here behind the screen.  Venting, crying, laughing, documenting, writing, for whatever person who cares to read.  I have no idea why you would, but I appreciate it.

It is dear to me that anyone dares to explore the deep chasm of grief alongside me.  I find it beautiful, and many times it has spurred me on to keep writing.



I've been wanting to write about something that has been weighing on my mind.  I kept putting it off, mainly because I don't have the time I wish I had to write for days on end.  Life is busy, as we all know.  But I keep seeing it all around me.  I just want to share my two cents, for what it is worth.

There is this theology being passed around, I'm not sure what to call it.  I'm sure if you check the television, news, and every social media website, you'll come across some of it.  It marries positive thinking, positive words, and tosses in various Bible verses to support the cause.  Before I go on, let me just say that I am a pretty positive person, often cheesy, and I think most people would agree.  I'm not saying we have to toss it all out, but.......


For the family who is dealing with the unexpected loss of a job...
For the wife who has just been told her husband has only weeks to live...
For the child who was tragically left as an orphan...
For the family mourning the suicide of their loved one...
For the couple that cannot conceive...
For the one who has just buried their loved one...
For lives taken by the acts of a murderer...
For the child who had unspeakable things happen to her...
For those being treated with hatred, in the name of someone's god...
For the person grieving their loved one day in, and day out...


MUCH of this "positive thinking theology" has to be tossed out, immediately.


No, there is not always some reason for every horrible tragedy.
No, God may not be trying to "teach you a lesson" through this reprehensible thing that has happened.  (Oh, trust me, my husband and I have been told this countless times from countless people!)
No, sometimes there is NO answer for the suffering that has come your way, and simply will not leave.
No....dare I say?...God's timing is NOT always perfect!  We can believe in the goodness of God without making every horrible thing look like they all "happened for a reason".  We can believe that God's timing is NOT perfect, and that God is still sovereign.  They don't have to be held apart from one another.


Sometimes, life is NOT about dancing in the rain!

Sometimes, life is ONLY about screaming in the rain, shouting in the storm, crying in the sun, and mourning in the moonlight.

Please stop using cheap cliches/platitudes to try and diminish the pain we all know is often very real, ugly, and agonizing.
We are unable to move through grief if we are pretending, or being made to feel as though we should pretend, that it doesn't exist.  We canNOT keep moving through this life in an honest, real, and thoughtful way if we are constantly handed these empty words, plastered with the name of "god" on them, and being manipulated into thinking that what we are feeling is wrong, or ungodly.


Sometimes life is raw, unfair, rough, hateful, sad, empty, and maddening.  The good does not always cancel out the grief, regardless of how much we wish it did.  All too often, we must learn to walk hand in hand with both.

Sometimes I am so angry at God, and I tell Him.  Sometimes, I don't.  Sometimes I'm so angry that I ignore God.

Do you know what?  I wholeheartedly believe I am still a beloved daughter who is loved by God.
I bring my questions, frustrations, grief, anger, madness, and bitterness to Him......
And oh, so many times, I come away with NO answer, no resolution, no peace.

And that is OKAY.  I am okay with that.  I don't want to follow a God that cheapens this beautiful life by giving me a neat little sentence that wraps up all the reasons I have had any heartache.  That is shallow theology, and nothing I want a part of.


I remember being told so many things regarding the unexpected loss of my Momma.  I found comfort in my husband, because he'd quickly remind me the truth.  Sometimes by his words, sometimes by loving me through sitting with me as tears drenched my face.

I know some people don't have that.  I know some beautiful people are out there, they have no soft spot, they have nobody to encourage their grief, and they have nobody sitting and sharing in their pain.  You wonderful, brokenhearted, sorrowful people....you are one of the biggest reasons I write.  


We can use so many eloquent words, sprinkle in pretty positivity, toss in some chopped up Scripture, and throw it all in that big ol' pot.....yet it will still be tasteless, and lacking in sustenance. 

There are times in life when all we can do is taste the salty bitterness of our own tears, or the tears of another.  We can get through it, we will keep going, but we need one another.


Grief without honesty cheapens the beautiful gift of life.

4015 days, and Thousands Yet to Come.

There are so many words that I could use to describe the love you and I share, My Love.  I've written this before, mentioning that very thing.  Knowing I can't find words adequate enough, I will still write just a bit about how thankful, grateful, happy, glad, and loved I am because of you...because of Us.

132 months. Approximately 572 weeks, 4015 days.  

That's about how long we've been married. We've been together for longer than that.  

I've been with you almost half of my entire life.

I've gladly, lovingly, whole-heartedly, and passionately, given you my days...for well over a decade.  

This year, I had the perfect gift planned for you.  We went away for the night, which we're hardly ever able to do.  It was so much fun, and I took a ton of pictures.  The pictures were what would make that special gift happen.  Then technology erased all the pictures, and they are irretrievable.  Trying to figure out again what the deal was, because it was so important, I called you on the phone.  Mid-sentence, no way of stopping them, the tears just started flowing.  I was overwhelmed, upset, and extremely sad that I wouldn't be able to do what I had planned for you.  

After realizing I couldn't hide that I was crying, and trying my best to stop, I heard you say on the other end, "Baby, I don't care about a present.  Our anniversary is about Us, that's all that matters..."

That, My Love, is one of the trillion reasons I am grateful for you.  

Indeed, it's about Us.

And in this great big world, full of opinions, lavish gifts, small gifts, everything one can think of to gift another person.......when it all comes down to it, all I can give you is little ol' me.  I don't see much, I see a ton of work to be done on myself.  I see numerous imperfections.  I see a mess.  

But when I think of how you see me, how you love me, how you are with me, with Us, that's not what I see.  You make me beautiful, valuable, intelligent, attractive, and loved.  

Darryl James Schafer, I love you. 

I will give you all my decades, I will give Us my decades.  Because since we've been together, I have seen this gift we've been given.  When we stood there on Saturday, June 28th at 2:00 in front of God and everyone else, I meant every word I said.  I will always mean every word I said, and I'm glad you've given me a lifetime to prove that to you.  God knows I'm grateful, and I don't take what we have for granted. 

Every night before our son goes to bed, I tell him the same several things.  One of those is, "Every day you have choices, make them good ones."

  

One beautiful day outside near a swing, you got down on one knee and asked me to be your bride. I had a choice to make.

  

I chose you...I chose Us.  Life will keep happening, the world will keep spinning, we will keep aging, but we will continue to do it together...which is my favorite place to be.

Everyday I have, I will still choose you...I will choose Us.

This life.  Our vows.  The valleys and mountains that come our way. The way we handle the sorrow and grief this life hands us, together.  The way we go through every moment, everyday, every week, every year, and find ourselves still loving, wanting, holding, encouraging, supporting one another...  

I'm gonna keep givin' you my decades, My Love.  I hope that will always be the only gift that matters to you.

It's you and me, Baby.  Us.  

Happy 11th Anniversary.

I Love You.  More than anything, forevermore.

Loving Others, Including Myself

I spend a lot of time talking about Love.  It's important to me.  With My Love, our Bean, our family and friends...love is what ties us together.  Through grief, tragedy, happiness, and the mundane things in life, Love is what will get us through. I happily pour myself into my husband and son, because I know what a gift they are.  I happily pour myself into the Church we are part of, the children, the youth group, because they are worth it...and I have such a love and passion for them all.  I love what I get to do. Whatever it is I'm working on, while wearing the many hats I have the gift of wearing, I try to keep Love the main focus.

Confession:
When it comes to loving myself...I fail, A LOT.  Everyday.

I've spent this year trying to work on that.  Physically, spiritually,  mentally, etc.  I've tried to be kind to the girl looking back at me.  I'm always conscious of being kind to others, and of course, I fail so many times.  But when it comes to extending kindness and love to myself.......I have a lot of work to do.  I have a lifetime, and I need a lifetime.  Of course I know the importance of loving myself,  but we all know that "knowing and doing are two different things!"

So yes, this is me.  I see flaws, I see so many more flaws in myself than I see positive things.  But I'm working hard to love myself.  I'm working hard to grace myself.  I'm working hard to embrace myself.

Not every picture someone posts comes from a place of vanity.  Sometimes, it's quite the opposite.

I adore My Love and our son more than they'll ever realize.  I love my family.  I love our friends.  I love people so, so, so, much.  I love the beautiful face of God I see as I look at every person breathing the gift of life.

But I have always had a hard time loving myself.

Which makes me think maybe there are more out there like me.  If so, whether you are 15, or 65.....you're not alone.

Let's learn to love that face in the mirror.  Because as much as I talk about loving the beautiful work of humanity, created in God's image.......I often forget I'm a part of it, as well.

I have so much work to do, but I'm still trying to love her, the one looking back at me.  It is an ongoing project. But I will try.

For You, Yearning to be a Momma

It's been nine years.  NINE.

It's been nine years since we've been trying to conceive our next little love child.

Oh, friends, we have heard it all.

Living a life with grief is hard stuff, living a life with grief while still hearing silence from God is worse, and living a life with grief and hearing the most horrible, nasty, unloving things from "friends" is downright disgusting.

Please don't tell me any platitudes.  Please don't tell me what we "need" to be doing.  (We kinda know that already.)

Want to know what doesn't help?  When you're told by people that maybe when you *fill in the blank*, God will bless you with the children you long for.  Maybe when you _________, like we did, God will reward you as He has rewarded us!  

Want to know what that implies?  

That we are doing something wrong, and that we have brought this upon ourselves.  Also, that you have God's stamped approval, and others do not.

That is very, very, dangerous theology.

I've said before that I don't talk a lot about hot topics publicly, mainly because most people just want to argue, and minds will not be changed....because usually hearts have already been hardened.  However, when people are being hurt, I WILL speak up, I will take up for people who are being hurt, especially when it's people hurting them "in the name of their god".  (Notice the little 'g'?)

I often hear, and sometimes it comes from a very self-righteous place, "We're letting Gaw-d plan our family".  Please, for the love of your God, stop saying that.  We, too, have let God plan our family.  We have been met with one amazing child.  No idea what the future holds, though I hope it's several more children. I have seen the hurt in other's eyes, as well as our own, when those words are proudly exclaimed.  Find a better way.

Also, please stop seeing child after child in your family as confirmation of how holy you are.  Because we all know the truth, a pregnancy can happen many other ways.  I'm not getting into that in this post, but you get the point.  

That is so damaging.  I have so many dear friends who have tried for years to get pregnant, only to be met with silence.  They have no children at all.  They don't know if they ever will be able to.  We know so many couples who never were able to conceive, at all.  There are many people who have many children, call it God's "blessing", and attribute their "blessings" to their living rightly, and all the while take their marriages and children for granted.  Or, they will have a baby to save a marriage.  (Which is a lot of pressure to put on a baby.) This is so backwards.

God is a giver.  I'm not an expert, but I do know that God gives, whether we deserve it or not.  We canNOT earn the gifts of God, whether we want to admit that or not.  

What I've been learning to live with, together with my husband, is getting to know God the Withholder.  God the Silent One.  God the Giver of Sorrow.

For some reason, that's who we've come to know.

I hope it doesn't last much longer.  I hope something changes.

Until then, as I've spoken about grief for those who are too broken to speak for themselves.....I'll speak up for my loved ones on this, as well.

Please think before you speak.  Words affect us.  Words affect others.  They can bring hope, and they can hurt others. Please stop slinging Bible verses around, using them like salt to rub in the wounds of those who are hurting.

For you sweet, loving, motherly, amazing women who are wanting the gift of Motherhood, and have been met with silence from God, I write.  I am thinking of your sweet souls on this Mother's Day weekend.  Hang in there, you are not alone.

***God's gifts were never meant to be used in a way that strokes our egos.  Please don't use a child, any child, as a mere object that points to your own self-righteousness.  That puts a heavy load on a little child.***  

My Grief is Not Just My Own.

I learned many years ago that all time is sacred.  True, there are moments when we remember the Divine, when we KNOW something spiritual just happened.  But we also tend to forget that here, NOW...these days we are gifted are sacred.

I've been nursing a hurt foot back to health for a couple of weeks.  Supposedly I'll need to give it a bit longer to heal, even though my entire body (inside and out) is ready to run a marathon that lasts a million years.  (OHMYGOODNESSIHATEHAVINGTOSITDOWN!!!!)

While talking to my husband recently, I mentioned something about time, how our Offspring is growing up so quickly. I mentioned that if I only get to have the amount of days my Momma had on this earth, then I'm already past the "one third" mark of being part of our son's life.  (Not in a morbid way, mind you.  When one experiences grief, they can't help but think thoughts like this sometimes, merely because they've experienced it firsthand.)  It's because *WE KNOW*.  I know that it will pass quickly, I know the beauty of these days.  I know that one phone call in the evening while putting our toddler to sleep can change our lives forever...

I recently wrote about how I needed to just sit down.  Well, I guess since I have a love of irony, it is now playing out.  I've had no choice but to sit down.  When a part of our body is aching, when it hurts to walk on, when our brain is telling us that something is not right, we have to cater to it.  Our entire body sacrifices to make up for the weakness of that one part.  (Sound familiar??)

I have seen this, oh have I lived it.  Sometimes I forget that my hurts affect my husband.  Sometimes I forget that he carries it all with me, lovingly, because he wants to.  Never because he has to.  Always because he gets to.  Sometimes I forget that the deep sadness that looms inside my broken heart is not alone, because he has been here beside me every. single. moment.  I only hope I do half as good a job loving him, as he does me.

I say all that to say this:

Thank you, My Love.

I know it's not easy.  I know it's not easy to see me carry this grief.  I know it's not easy merely because you wish you could just make that part of me never hurt anymore.  But we know that's not the way of grief.  It's meant to be lived with, handled, felt.  It's meant to be carried.  And how much easier it is for this girl, because I have you to carry it with me.  

I have remembered.  I have remembered the hugs, the tears, the anger, the silence....I  have remembered the countless times you've been here.  Beside me.  Part of me.  And it speaks to me.  

*I know* what we have together is a gift.  *I know* the gift of spending our time together on this earth....*I KNOW* the beauty of it all. 

I know that the burden of my grief has been softened because of the beautiful gift of love we share.

I Know, and thank you.  I love you.

When All is Not Ideal.

Why is it that we shy away from hurt when we know the true beauty of weeping with someone who is swimming in an ocean of sorrow?  

I see this trend everywhere, and have experienced it first hand.  I've been the one needing comfort, refusing comfort, refusing to give comfort, and I hope to God I've been the one giving it to someone who desperately needed it.  

We like to talk about the highs of life, and refuse to share our lows.  We like to commend someone when they "look" as though they're happy.....yet we ignore them when we know life is beating the daylights out of them.  We like to tell people to look on the bright side.  We talk about only thinking "positive" thoughts, saying positive things.  And what always erks me is when we use a Bible verse to manipulate someone into thinking their hurt is wrong, wrong, wrong.  Unwelcome, only smiles belong here!  And I'll show you the verses in this here Bible that support my views on the power of positive living!  

How dare we?

Then there's my all time, absolutely, hum-dinger of a lie that we hold so dear, "Well, God will never give us more than we can handle!"... Lie.

God does.  This lie comes from a misread of a verse that has nothing to do with that.  

There WILL be times when sorrow surrounds us.  There will be times we wrestle with the unexplained, when we question all of our beliefs.  There will be other times we are underneath such darkness that we don't even have the strength to think.  All we can do is sit there and hurt.  

At the first of the year, I mentioned I needed to sit down.  Well, what I sought out has found me.  I have had no choice but to sit down the past several days.  I sprained my foot, so yay.  (Don't ask how, because I don't even know!)  It frustrates me, because like most people, I don't want to be slowed down.  Then my husband got sick.  Then our son woke up sick.  Because I don't want them to be left out I guess, I am now sick.  Bless his heart, my husband had to do a lot more because I'm unable...all that on top of his sickness, and all the work he has to get done.

I can't help but think as I'm here, unable to do all the millions of things that need done on a daily basis, as I need help taking care of my family, help taking care of myself so my foot will heal properly.......these are those times that my Momma would've come to stay the week with us, and helped us out. She had done it before, lots of times.  She was just that way.  

Her absence affects so much.

No, I'm not playing my fiddle.  (If I were, so what?)  Right now, these circumstances are not ideal. Yes, they could be far worse, trust me.....I have seen worse.  But it's these times that only a Momma would swoop in and take the reigns for her child, because that is what Mommas do.

I guess what I'm trying to say to you is this: for the burdens you are carrying, for the ache in your heart, for the sorrow that surrounds, you are not alone.  Don't let someone silence your pain.  Life is not all peaches and roses.  It is often heavy with hurt.  Don't ignore it, live it.  No, there may not be some grand lesson God is trying to "teach" you......sheesh that bothers me.  Life just may hurt right now.  Whether you like it or not.  Find those people in your life who will wrap their arms around you, whether in silence or words, and get the comfort you need.  Don't buy into empty theologies and philosophies.  

***God is big enough to hear us complain, small enough to hurt with us, and loving enough to be present in our pain.***

That, my friend, is Good News.

A Thought of Comfort.

One of the most chilling thoughts I had after losing my sweet Momma was this:

What if I forget?

What if I forget the life we had with her?  What if I forget the sound of her voice?  What if I forget the way she looked, smelled?  What if I forget those moments with her that were so special?  What if I forget the ordinary days with her?

What if?

I still have those thoughts sometimes.

But what I've noticed about this life with grief is that I haven't forgotten.  I hear her voice ringing in my head sometimes like she were still here, though she is not.  I hear her laughter echo in my heart, though she is not here to laugh with us anymore.  I see her smiling face, though she is now gone.  I hold every thought of her so dearly, so closely, so tightly, so lovingly.

I have many moments when I remember the sweetest things about my Momma.  I have haunting memories.  I have happy memories.  Life keeps going on, and I keep going with it.


I think it was when we were driving home after her memorial service.  I was sitting there, darkness around.  I remember thinking of the deep pain inside that I'd never be able to describe.  I think all of my boys were in the car...my husband, son, and Daddy.  I remember thinking of the big emptiness that now lived within because of the emptiness she left around.  I thought of the vastness of LOVE.  I thought of how much I love her, my husband, our son, my daddy, my sister.  And like a waterfall bursting into my broken heart, I remember a whisper of a thought about my Momma.......

"She misses me, too."

I can't describe it, I can't explain it.  But that one thought has still brought me comfort after all these years.  If love really is *that* big, if love is "as strong as death", if love "never fails", if it truly is the *one* thing that lasts.......why wouldn't she miss us, too?

I believe in a LOVE that is bigger than what we see, feel, live, experience.  I refuse to buy into this idea that once we're gone, we forget all the love we were given on this place.  How cruel, and if that is true, what's the point of this life?

(N.T. Wright wrote a book called, "For all the Saints?".  He speaks a little to what I'm trying to put into words.  Honestly, it made this southern gal feel pretty dern smart to see some of my own personal thoughts explained through a theologian/scholar such as himself.  If you haven't read it, DO!)


Momma made her appearance into this grand world on February 7th.
On that day, I will take my husband and son out.  We will just be together.  We will go to a particular restaurant she always enjoyed. We may laugh, we may be somber.  Who can tell.  We will just *be* together.We will sit, we will eat, we will remember that she made a difference in our lives.

So much of a difference that we are here, in it, living.

I miss you everyday. I love you so much, Momma.  What a day of fun and celebrating we would have had if you were here with us on what would have been your birthday.  You are missed, and adored.  I know you know that.


I'm so grateful for her birthday.

We miss her, and I know she misses us, too.

A Long Winter/An Odd Resolution.

It's January 7th.  I like 7.  It's my favorite number in the universe.

Since I like it so much, I'm just going to count this as my "January 1st".  Happy New Year, y'all!  ; )

We started off December with a cloud of sadness. December is always rough, as it is etched with memories of Momma. I think of her so much, of course.  I think of how life was with her, how much joy she brought, how much I wish she were here for us, and for our sweet son.  December....oh, December.  It is always packed full of horrific memories of what happened several years back.  The tragedy that struck us all.  The waiting.  The tears.  The questions.  The silence.  The darkness.  The anger.  The loss.

The December we just left began with burying my Grandma.  We got the call that started the days of sadness about my Momma on December 4th, many moons ago.  Grandma's funeral ended up being on December 4th.
Needless to say, it's been a long several weeks.  Rest in peace, my sweet Grandma.

The rest of December just didn't go as I planned.  Which is funny, you'd think I would have learned by now to stop making plans.  Life is always just a "go with the flow" type thing for us.  Which doesn't jive with me, because I am a type A gal!  (Did I just use "jive"???)  I plan, plan, plan, schedule, schedule, schedule!
I make it a point to fill our December with activities, art, fun stuff, family things, etc.  We usually have Christmas shopping done around Thanksgiving.  But this year, we just had to go with the flow.  Christmas passed us by, and we have been going...nonstop.  I was hoping to use our Christmas break to get SO much done, to relax, and even read some books!  Didn't happen.

Since it couldn't happen during December, I thought, "Well I'll just cram all that stuff into our last holiday week, get it all done during the first week of January!"...
January 2nd, our whole family got the FUNK.  No, I don't mean a dance party happened.  (Although I can beat you any day on M.J's Dance game!  Just pick a time, people!  Well....one person who can beat me is my sweet niece, Bethany.)   Anyhow, a puking Offspring and fevers abounded starting that day. So much for getting things done!

Maybe for this girl, I just need to teach myself to relax.  There's a running joke that I never sit down.  I am a very antsy girl.  I have to move, I need to be doing things.  Not because it's an idol, or because I feel the need to be busy, I just prefer to be getting things done.  I don't see the need to sit, when I have an ongoing list in my head of all I can be doing.  Aside from chores, planning, homeschooling, and all the other hats I wear, I like life quite a bit!  There's so much to do, to see, to learn, to experience, to live.

So much life to live, because we all know how precious the days are.

Since the days ARE so precious.......I DO need to sit down.  I need to take longer breaks.  I need to sit longer with this hot guy I like to kiss on. I need to cuddle longer with this sweet offspring, before I blink and see a man in his place.  (And trust me, offspring of ours....I WILL still be kissing your little face even when you're 60!!!)

This year, I'm not setting goals for MORE to do.  I'm not resolving to add more to an already very busy life.  I'm not adding more things to my checklist.  I'm not adding more stuff to mentally carry around.  I'm not adding, because my life is quite full.  I like that.  I am grateful for that.  I love these people I get to live this wonderful life with.  I adore what I get to do for our family, and for our Church.  Through the days that I continue to be given, though we carry many burdens of grief, and though there may be times of sadness ahead.......there will be plenty of laughter, work, fun, and crazy-good times!!

And somewhere in the middle of it all,
I'm going to just sit down this year!

Who knows, maybe that will lead to some even better times!  That's what I remember about my Momma, by the way.  I remember when she took time to talk to me, when she looked at me, when she was just there with me.  Pausing, with me.  Even if we were doing nothing at all, and I was "bored"... I remember those times.  I remember the same about Daddy, watching every episode of  "The Andy Griffith Show" about 87 thousand times.  I remember, Daddy!   I love it!  : )

Once again, Happy New Year, on this January 7th!

I'm going to go sit now, and love on these people.

"Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.  Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and YOU WILL FIND REST FOR YOUR SOULS.  For My Yoke is easy and My burden is light."

*Matthew 11:28-30*

Grief, Reworked.

Nothing can quite explain the feels that come along with dreaming about our loved ones who are gone.  Last night, my Momma was with me in a dream.  It was a weird dream, but nonetheless...she was there.  Very much there, it seemed so real.  

Tomorrow, it will be six years.

How can six years feel like five minutes, feel like eternity, feel like hell all at once?  I'm not sure, but it can.  

Christmastime, with all the color, all the hopes, all the sentiment.......drums up all the Christmases we had with her.  Makes me wish all the more that she were here to celebrate with us, and lovingly spoil her grandkids, as she always did.

We have had a sad month.  My last Grandma, a great woman, breathed her last only a handful of days ago.  It was heartbreaking to see my Daddy have to bury his Momma.  She is missed, dearly.  By hundreds, (no really, hundreds,) of family members who will live out our days with fond memories of her.

The only comfort we had was in knowing she had lived a long life, and she had hinted that she was ready.  Though that doesn't make it easier, it eases the burden a bit.

She was surrounded by family.  She was surrounded by those who love her, by those she brought into this world.  She now has no more pain.  May she rest well.

Through the busy-ness, the road trips, the winter ice storms, the tears, through all of this, I keep thinking...

That is how it should be.  Though death is not how it was meant to be, we know we have to deal with it in this life.  But that, that's the "picture" most of us have in our heads of how it will happen.  Our loved ones live a long life, and they end their days surrounded by their loved ones.  Then, we learn to live with the grief that will take part in the rest of our days.  For so many, they have that chance.  They are able to have that experience.  It does not make it easy, it does not make us happy, but that is how many of us picture the end, even for ourselves.

Then there are others of us who don't get to see such an end.  There are those of us who are hit with tragedies unspeakable.  There are those of us bombarded with sudden, horrible events that rip our loved ones away.  There are those of us jolted into grief, without a warning, without a chance to come to terms with what is happening. It adds another aspect to the grief we will already have to live with.  

Death is not convenient.

We were standing there, minutes after my Grandma's funeral.  The crowds were leaving, the winter storm was on the way.  My husband, our son, my Daddy, my sister, her family.  We walked a few feet over where my Momma's headstone rests.  All the emotions welling up inside, with no way of describing the pain that throbs in my chest.  Our sweet boy looks up at me, as if all of a sudden, it makes sense.  He's read and re-read the tombstone.  He gets a serious look on his face, looks up at me and says, "But Momma, what about Nana??  She didn't get to be old like Mimi Flores.  She was young. What happened?".......

I will never forget that moment.  

What DID happen?  A tragedy.  She should still be here.  What happened?  I don't really know, sweet boy.  I just know it should not have happened.  I know we want her here.  I know she wasn't ready to go, not at all.  

Grief is like that.  We go on, we have memories.  We cry.  We hurt.  We age.  We pass new milestones.  We think of more questions to ask.  Just as our son is working it all out...we, too, continue to rework this grief we carry.  

If you're like me, I still reach for the phone to call my Momma at least weekly.  I used to think it was a habit.  I don't think that anymore.  I reach out to call her because she's my Momma.  Aside from my husband, she's who I want to talk to when something big, little, sad, happy, whatever happens.    

I miss her.  Every moment. So many of us miss her.

Six years tomorrow.  It could have just happened yesterday, it could have happened a hundred years ago. 

I just miss my Momma.  There won't ever be a time in my life when that sentence isn't true. 

*The holidays can be rough for those of us missing our loved ones.  You are not alone in your grief.  Let the tears flow, let the laughter roll.  Do what needs to be done, and know that there is a legion of us who also live with this grief.

"As one whom his mother comforts, so I will comfort you..."

Isaiah 66:13