Eternal Accountability

I know I have been quiet for many months. I actually started writing two different post this fall. One was titled Running Shoes. The other I called Unraveling. But I never had the heart to finish them. Grief is a funny thing. It seems to suck the energy out of you, though you feel like you are doing nothing. I have missed Nana very much, in the quietness of this blog. Turtled up some. Reach out to others some. Given encouragement and understand to other sisters and brothers in sorrow. And looked to others for encouragement for myself. Mostly, I sought the Lord to fill the hole left by my cherished friend and mentor. I heard someone say this about their own mentor, "I wasn't ready to let her go yet. There is so much I hadn't heard her say." I understand that deeply. Every loss has its own fingerprint. The Lord understands us exactly and what the sorrow means inside of us. But grief is still a language everyone feels. My goal in 2020 is to write more consistently. We shall see!

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I titled this post Eternal Accountability because these two words struck deep within me Sunday. Accountability helps us in numerous ways. But the reality of Eternal Accountability is eye opening!
God is my Judge. I read this this morning. It is true. There is comfort in those words because I know Jesus is my advocate. But I also understand that some of the things I do and say in this life are worthy to be burned up. They were unfruitful and at times very damaging to myself, my God, and others. Other things I have done or said I hope will be fruit that remains. Fruit that is turned to gold in the fire.

I want to get this posted. So I won't go much deeper. Dear reader, I just pray that you will give some thoughts to these two words: Eternal Accountability.

Enduring Grief

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 So for the past three months I have turtled up. I have grieved personally and privately. Everyone grieves differently. Here are a few of the things that I have done to endure my grief. I bought a sequins pillow that has a purple heart on it. It's kind of too girly girly for me, but it reminded me of my talks with Nana. Often when I went to talk to her I would play with the sequins pillow that was by her chair. A friend of mine calls it a girl therapy pillow and I guess it is. I would rub it back and forth making the picture appear and disappear as we talked, sometimes those talks were deep heart-to-heart ones and other times we just shared funny memories. So I bought myself a sequins pillow, my own therapy pillow. On the opposite side, I wrote a Bible verse that was special to me that I had shared with Nana.

 Another thing I have done is I went and visited Nana's memorial stone. I knew I needed to go see it even though it required a long drive. I placed two small stones on her stone under her name. Leaving a stone at the grave last longer than flowers and when someone visits they know someone had been there. It's very comforting to know someone else remembers your loved one and misses them too. One of the stones I left was black and shiny. The boys had found it when they were rock picking. I also placed a very smooth stone there. This stone was special to me. Jesus knows why and maybe Nana knows why now too. Besides putting flowers or stones, what do people do when they visit their loved one's grave? Many things. Clean it off. Remember special times. Say what never got said. It is different for everyone. For me I just needed to pause life and let myself grieve. I sat quietly a while. I talking with God a while. I sang a lil bit. I freely let the tears flow. 

As I was sitting by the memorial stone, a small little butterfly landed on my foot. It just rested a little while and then fluttered away. Then it returned. Butterflies always remind me of 1 Peter 5:10 because of how they struggle to come out of their chrystalis, but their struggles causes them to be able to soar. After the tears stopped and the butterfly no longer visited, I went and laid under the lone pine tree for a little while. I listened to the breeze blow through its branches and just took in God's presence, faithfulness, and comfort. Then it was time to drive away with a great peace inside. It was good to go. Very healing. Cleansing. Just me taking care of business I needed to take care of.

Our first big family reunion without Nana looms ahead. I am looking forward to gathering together with family, but there's going to be some hard times; someone special is missing. There will be no big hug from Nana. No special talks. And her voice will not blend with ours during the hymn sing. I expect there will be times my love for Nana will leak out of my eyes and memories will roll down my cheeks. But overall I'm feeling stronger, more in tune with God. Held. And I know the Lord will carry us through.

Tears & Turtling Up

I feel like I am in water & drifting into a place that is deep. Emotions are going into deep places within me. Tears flow quick & without explaination. It isn't one thing. It is 15 million reasons and most of those don't have words.

And I find myself turtling up. Wanting to shut others out. And yet feeling the sting of loneliness. The people I want  to talk to, I can't. Those who would understand without a spoken word, aren't here. The hugs I long for are impossible this side of heaven.
I know I need to draw close to God. I need Him so much. His strength. His comfort. His peace. His hugs. His understanding. His power. His wisdom.
God has answered some amazing prayers last week. And blessed me and the boys in simple, yet needful ways. He has faithfully carried us through so much. I am very thankful.
And yet tears come....cuz reality is grief doesn't disappear when the sun shines. And milestones & family pictures have important people missing.
But I am also an armorbearer. An intercessor. And the enemy doesn't take a day off.  He is seeking whom he may devour. There are some intense needs and battles going on in the lives of others right now. Duty & love calls me to the front lines even when my heart has its own sorrow.
So I suit up, fight on my knees, war in prayer, and then pull into my turtle shell and let the tears run their rivers. The Lord knows. He sees. He cares. He collects the tears. And He holds me.

Anger

Anger is very much a part of grief. It is often displayed more than its two roots: pain & fear. It often is the hard armor we reveal when life has turned upside down. We feel frustrated, irritated, mad at the world and everyone in it. It is natural. But we must be brave and dig past the anger to find what is the root. What fear or hurt is really under all the anger? Then we need to give a voice to it. It takes hard work to dig. And our pride often wants to deny the fear and to protect where we are wounded. But it is important to dig.
Anger can be very destructive. It often gets poured out on others or is poured out silently on ourselves. Neither one focuses on the real issue. We can get stuck in grief anger. Holding on to our anger like it will keep us connected to our loved one. It won't. It just prolongs healing. So the healthy thing is to dig. Try to give a voice to the anger. Listen for fear or pain. Then that is what needs to be truly expressed. Some people need to talk it out, some like me write, other might need to exercise, do a sport, go hiking, and in the process grief anger's mask falls off and the real issues can be dealt with.
Grief is messy & disruptive. It pingpong through many emotions: fear, pain, anger seem to be the big three for me. But others regret is huge or guilt. You won't deal with these once and be done.  You will bounce back to emotions and peel another layer back each time. But do NOT lose hope.
God spoke to me years ago in Psalm ? That He heals the broken in heart and binds up their wounds. "You won't always hurt like this." I needed that hope when the pain overwhelmed and I could barely breathe.
There is hope. And there is healing. And even when clouds of anger overshadow my home, there is hope. And no matter how many times I or my sons clench our fists in anger. Every time we open it again Jesus is right there to take our hand & lead us one more step further on this jouney to healing. 

Denial

As I have been looking through pictures in preparation for my oldest son's grad party, I have come across many bittersweet images. One in particular caught my eye. 

There was two little boys standing by a wooden cross. The older of the two is tracing the letters of his father's name. Resting against the base of the cross is sign that reads "My Honey, Our Daddy." This sign was an important step for us. For weeks after Jim's death Snipp stopped using the word, Daddy. He refered to his dad as "Jim" or simply used pronouns "he" and "him". This really began to bother me. Finally I asked Snipp why he was referring to his dad by his name. His smart 5 year old answer was that that is what everyone else called him. True, but I explained Jim was his daddy which is special and that is why Snipp had always called him Daddy before. Then with a deep sadness he whispered, "I wish it was someone else's daddy that died." Oh, how my mama's heart broke for my son. 

I shared with Snipp how it was hard for me that it was my honey who was gone too. But how we need to not pretend, and how we were going to do a project. We made a sign. "My Honey, Our Daddy". It was a reality sign. We didn't like it, but the denial needed to stop so we could heal. 

It was a long walk to the cemetery with Snipp slowly pulling the sign in his wagon. But the boys and I arrived and we placed it at the bottom of the cross. 

It was a solemn time. I then told Snipp that Jim would always be his daddy and I expected him to refer to him as such from now on. And Snipp did. 

Oh, it could have been so much easier to stay in denial and allow my son not use the word Daddy to try to escape the pain. But healing needed to begin. Grief needed worked through. And it is so honoring to our loved ones when we say their name or call them what they were to us. 

I share all this to encourage you do a check, dear reader. Are you using only pronouns? It might seem like a simple thing, but make yourself say their name. It can be difficult, but it is one small way to honor your loved one and it also leads to babysteps of healing.

Fog

This is so true. 

In the last few weeks, I lost my brain somewhere. Today I forgot my toast in the toaster. I finally remembered it and popped it down again. Then I forgot it... again. That's a little thing, but there has been countless other things. And I feel silly and feel like I am losing my mind. But I know what is going in. Grieving is hard work and my brain is overwhelmed.

And just like with the waves of pain, this fogginess will roll in and then clear after awhile. And then return unannounced.

In Isaiah 42:16 the LORD says "And I will bring the blind by a way that they knew not; I will lead them in paths that they have not known: I will make darkness light before them, and crooked things straight. These things will I do unto them, and not forsake them."

And so even in this fog, when I reach out, the Lord is right by my side. And HE silently takes my hand and tenderly leads me.

Grief Tsunami

I have been hit by a grief tsunami. My nana has gone to heaven. I miss her so much it hurts! I miss her hugs, her listening ear, her godly wisdom, and her prayers. 

At the graveside, I look at her faithful husband and grief touches grief, the heart feels slashed and blood from new wounds mingle with old ones. Sacred scars are toren gastly wide open and my heart screams silently once again. The familiar hollow feeling in my chest engulfs me in searing pain and I can't breathe.  

The wind feels like it is whistling right through me and try as I might, I can't stop the backflashes. Images of twisted and toren metal reflected my heart ripped in half and shattering into billions of pieces. And I can't breathe.

Feeling like I am going to vomit, I briskly walk away from family. I want to run, but the pain is trapped within. I walk till I feel like I am at the ends of the earth. Everything within is ready to collapse to the ground and let the grief wail escape my chest. I beg the Lord to keep me standing, to keep me silent. I shake like I am in a chilling rainstorm, but it is only tearsdrops that flow steadily down my cheeks. And I. Can't. Breathe.

Time stops. Pain blinds the mind and turns the body to stone. Must force myself to breathe. In....out.....in...out. I hear footsteps. A son puts an arm around me. Another proclaims, "You are really rattled. This all taking you back?" There is no words to describe how grief bleeds and mingles together, so I agree. They walk away and emptiness swirls around me again. Time is frozen. For eternity, I stand and feel like I am cold and dying.

Finally I turn around and walk back. Others approach to give hugs. I wave them away. I can't breathe. One hug, just one and they will need an ambulance... or a hearse. My heart pounds in my hollow chest. They are waiting for me. To speak. To get in the vehicle. Yet... I must go say goodbye. I silently and roboticly draw near to the grave. The casket is sealed in the vault and lies low in the earth. I feel cold and entombed myself. I breathe in sharply and toss in my rose. I quickly turn as my breath is sucked out of me again; I feel like I am being buried alive. I gasp for air hiding behind the vehicle using it to keep me from falling to the ground. Staccato-like I suck in oxygen. A grief wail almost surfaces. Please, Lord, no! They are waiting for me. 

I force myself to go. I crawl onto the seat & curl up tight. Deep concern fills the vehicle as my sons observe grief with its choke hold on me. I have no strength to pretend I am okay. All my focus is on the next breath. 

I silently cry out to my Healer. My desperate screams reach His ears and touches HIS heart. And HE holds me in the old familiar way & I know I will be okay. HIS peace will come. HIS comfort will give strength. HE will heal and HE will redeem. 

For now, I force myself to breathe. And try to take the next breath deeper than than the last. And I rest in the shelter of HIS tender love.

 

Word for the Year?

Many people like to pick a word for the year. In times past when I have done this, the Lord has a way of showing me He had a different word in mind.

I started off the year with "Be not afraid, only believe" as my battle cry. So I focused on the word BELIEVE.

Then in my Bible reading I kept coming across the word ENDURE.

"Endure hardness as a good soldier. "
"...after he had patiently endured, he obtained the promise."
"...ye endured a great fight of afflictions."
"...for he endured, as seeing him who is invisible."
"Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith: who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God. For consider him that endured such contradiction of sinners against himself, lest ye be wearied and faint in your mind."
"...endure chastening..."

ENDURE




And this leads me to another word I have been focusing on: BRAVERY.

Audie Murphy said, "I'll tell you what bravery is. Bravery is just determination to do a job that you know has to be done." This quote hangs on my frig. It is a reminder to keep putting one foot in front of another. To do the job that has to be done.  Whether that is dishes, make supper, grade papers, help a son with math, pray with a friend, or battle the enemy in my thoughts.

BE BRAVE.

ENDURE.

BELIEVE.

My Redeemer is Faithful and True

13 years....of widowhood.

And as I remember the night that forever changed my life, and the times since then, these words echo in my mind and my heart...

My Redeemer is Faithful and True

I wrote these words to another widow this past summer:

• Something Pastor told me years ago, that I wrote in my Bible, was that we were privileged to have Jim taken. It didn't feel that way for a long time.

• But God uses pain to help people in ways they cannot understand. And to deepen His relationship with them in ways they never knew existed.

• And when He uses you to share truth with others it is such a privilege.

• God is our Redeemer & He never wastes anything. Not even pain. A mom who was dying of cancer said that phrase "God never wastes pain." It spoke powerfully to my hurting heart.

• The Bible says He collects our tears in a bottle. So I imagine He gathers up the pain too.Then one day when the time is right, He does something amazing with it

• Knowing that doesn't take the pain away, but it gives purpose to it. Gives life to something that is so deadening. Gives hope. And everyone needs hope

• God is the Great Redeemer, not just of my soul & life, but He has redeemed all the deep pain & sorrow and used them to give life to others. I stand amazed He chooses to use little me to do such a thing.

• Through the years I have had to visualize putting my children into Jesus' arms and begging Him to heal them, to speak to their hearts. To fill in the huge hole in their hearts with more of Him, to melt the anger and break down walls. To trust He will redeem their pain too. And He is trust worthy & has shown Himself faithful.