Grandpa

Snurr and I were relaxing on the couch chatting the other day and he made this statement,
"My kids won't have a grandpa."

I sighed deeply. Once again his brain is processing the absence of his father, this time thinking forward into his future. This is the part of widowhood that is most difficult, watching my children grieve. There is nothing I can do to shield them from the pain. I will say I do feel privileged at the same time. I am thankful they feel safe enough they can share their heart and hurts with me. So very thankful.

I waited for Snurr to share more.
I could see the gears turning in his head.
"I have two grandpas."
"Yes, you are very blessed."

I explained to him that if his wife's father is alive that his children would for sure have one grandpa.
Then I explained I actually had three grandpas, but I only knew two. My father's first dad died when he was eight. So his stepdad was my grandpa also. Then I had my mom's father as a grandpa also.

So I told him that if the Lord sees fit, and someday I remarry that his children could very likely be like I was. Have three grandpas, one in heaven and two on earth.

As he quietly processed this, I thought about how unpredictable grief is. We never know when it will pop up or what will trigger it. Most often when grieving, we think backwards in time. We also grieve that our loved ones can't be with us currently. But grieving forward also occurs. It is all apart of our hearts trying to process our loss.

One thing is certain. The Lord is there. He is there where ever we are grieving.
And He has great grace for whatever the future holds.

An Acquaintance Visits

I stood on the porch. It's 5:55 p.m. Eleven years ago there was a horrible, life-altering accident. I look down the sidewalk and recall the policeman and my neighbors walking up it. Tears flow at the memory. The mind flashes thoughts of metal crashing and tearing, of tires on the pavement, of my beloved mortally wounded and bleeding, then silence with just a cold winter breeze.

Back on the porch, I pull up my hood and step down one step.
Hot, salty tears flow down my cheeks. I take a deep breath and head down the sidewalk to meet an old acquaintance, Grief. We have traveled many miles together. We've never been friends. Grief can be demanding, bossy, rude, exhausting, and overwhelming.  Though Grief has been very painful, knocking the wind out of me, pouncing on me, and wounding me to the ground, I don't think of Grief as an enemy either. A bully at times maybe, but whose power has diminished over the years. Two things are constant about Grief: it is unpredictable and the Lord has always sent comfort.

It has been quite a long while since we last spoke. There has been such healing in my heart, I had hoped we'd not ever have to meet again. But the tell-tale scar on my heart and soul give it a passport to come, though its stay won't be long.

Grief and I walk down the driveway together. Then I force my feet to face the cemetery. Tears continue to fall with each rhythmic step of my feet crunching in the snow. I head to go into the cemetery one way. I stop. Another flash from the past. A tent. Chairs. A casket. Family. Cold wind blowing through the huge hole in my heart.

I turn and walk along the edge of the cemetery. Three trees. A garden stone. A dream remembered. A touch to the cheek. Understanding eyes. Permission to move forward. Crunch, crunch. The snow beckons me on.

I turn again and walk forward uncertainly, not knowing what Grief will do. I reach the graveside. And the tears come more forcefully and sobs escape my lips. Time stops.
Grief swirls around me like an icy blizzard.
Blinding my eyes,
stinging my cheeks,
making my lungs gasp for warm air...

"I love you so much....." I whisper into the night as I stare at a picture of a married couple, so happy, so in love, sharing the secret of a third child within. It seems like a lifetime ago I posed for that picture with my Jim alive beside me.

The icy blizzard calms, and the blessed warmth of comfort of the Lord comes.
Time begins ticking again. Grief backs away into the shadows of the trees, but doesn't yet leave.
I breathe in the grace of God.
I fill my lungs with the warmth of His love and faithfulness as the tears continue to flow.
But the sobs are silent. Like birds released from prison, they have flown away.

I stoop down. With my finger, I write in the snow. After five words, my finger throbs with pain from the cold. But it is the only pain I feel. I breathe a sigh of relief. Through the tears, I read in the moonlight, "I will always love you."

The mind jumps to a beach in Michigan and the waves flowing in. Two honeymooners write in the sand. The waves threaten to erase their creation. Quickly the bride writes "T.I.D." which means True If Destroyed. They turn their backs on the water and the good man plucks an enormous red maple leaf and hands it to his soulmate.

The cool breeze tussles my hair and I turn towards the path in the woods. I feel Grief lingering behind me, following, yet staying in the shadows. Tears continue to fall as I meander through the woods to the field drive. My back is to the life in the house, my back is to the grave. I walk on and on until I feel Grief has given up following me and the tears cease. Then I just stop and stand.
Alone, I just stand and Be.
"Be still and know," God said.
My eyes contrast the crumbled down old barn and the home beyond full of life.

The nightly breeze has begun to dry my cheeks. I lick my lips and taste the remnant of salt. The mind flashes to a memory, but it is blurry and fading. The mind quickly tries to jump to the future, but it is halted and captured. I turn around and retrace my steps.

Suddenly the night is pierced by a holler from the boys, "Mom?" It is repeated, then the door bangs shut. I turn towards the house as I tramp through the woods. Instinctively, I follow the path to the cemetery. Without even thinking I write "T.I.D." Then smile at my Jim's picture and use my boot to snowplow my words of love into forever. Into eternity.

Using my sleeve, I remove the tears from my lashes and finish drying my cheeks. I walk back towards reality and the boys who need me. I glance at the time. 6:11 p.m. Sixteen minutes have passed; it seemed like hours. Where will we be in five years? Who or what is in my future? I round the corner of the house and light from within streams out across the snow. Home awaits.

I open the door to reality, to continued healing, to the possibilities of the future, and shut the door behind me. And Grief remains in the cold, waiting for permission from the Almighty to visit me again.

"God doesn't waste pain."

Back in 2009, my homeschool mentor had asked me to pray for a fellow homeschool mom who was battling cancer. I never met this brave woman who went to be with her Lord several months later. But something my homeschool mentor quoted from her has stuck with me.

"God doesn't waste pain."  -Barb Gorman

Go back and read that again.

Pain comes in many forms from emotional to physical. It ranges from dull aches to sharp excruciating throbbing that makes it hard to think...hard to breathe. It can makes silent tears fall or grief wails escape from the throat and swirl around a person like chains. It can make a person walk with a limp or be curled up in a fetal position writhing in agony.

What good does pain do? Does it do anything good?

God created us to feel pain. For a good reason, just feeling it gives us an adversion to what ever caused it. Pain also alerts us to problems emotionally and physically. Pain alerts our body to a problem as well. As healing begins, continued pain helps us to not over use the healing muscles.
Pain  isn't any fun. Some pain can be endured knowing the reward that is coming, like a mother giving birth. Or crying about an emotional hurt can physically hurt but a calmness comes afterward.

Lately I have had to deal with some physical pain. I used to think I had a high pain tolerance. I homebirthed three boys with no painkillers. I have battled migraines and sprains without using pain killers. Even broke a toe, I think, and though I almost passed out, I never even thought about taking ibuprofen. But lately, I haven't dealt too well with physical pain. Either it has been very intense like a level 8 or I am getting wimpy in my old age.

But as I deal with it, Barb's words from years ago come to me again. "God doesn't waste pain." There is purpose to the pain I feel, emotional or physical. Purpose? I looked it up and most people can come up with ten reasons pain is a good thing. Really?

Easy to say but hard to remember at 3 a.m. when your shoulder is killing you and you are desperate for relief as well as sleep.
Pain is humbling. It makes us vunerable, weak, and needing assistance. It can make us irriatated easily with others which reveals our true heart condition. Pain makes us prioritize, choosing which activities are most necessary and which ones to let go for now. Pain gives others the opportunity to serve us and makes us realize how interdependent we really are. Pain makes us appreciate our good health more. Pain tests us to see how quickly we will let us use it as an excuse to be lazy or manipulate others. Pain challenges us to not be controlled by it. Pain is a tool in the hand of God. He alone is sovereign. It makes us seek His face and examine ourselves. Pain gives us an adversion for sin and disobedience, for straying and reaping negative consequences. Pain is not necessarily a friend, but it isn't always the enemy. It can be our school teacher.

At our church's midweek service, our pastor talked about how the disciples rejoiced that they were counted worthy to suffer.   Counted worthy.....not quite the attitude I have had as I recall painful events of my life. In fact, that the Lord counted me worthy to suffer never entered my mind until my pastor mentioned it. I pretty much equated that verse with being persecuted. Never thought of it as I struggled through emotional or physical pain. I wish I was there yet. I am not. Knowing the correct attitude to have and having it are miles apart.

But I can start the journey. I can choose to look to my Lord and let His presence be enough. I can look to the cross and remember what He bore for me. I can put on a smile and praise the Lord that though, I physically hurt, I am not alone. I am not forgotten. Quite the opposite, I am counted worthy. And my Lord has great grace sufficient for the pain, for the trial, for the struggle.

Once again He reminds me, He is enough.

The Lord is Faithful

At night, when the children are in bed, where do you pray?  Some nights I go to my room and sit on my bed. Many other nights I walk up and down the hallway by the boys' rooms. I wonder what they will remember when they are adults.

Some nights my voice is weary and I walk slowly almost dragging my feet. Sometimes I pace quickly calling on the Lord in desperation to work in a situation. Some nights it is a steady rhythm of my feet in time with the tears that slide down my face for my unsaved family. Sometimes my voice is choked and the tears fall hot and fast, and boys slip out of their beds and reach out to me as I pass their doors.

And there are many nights also that I pour out gratitude to my precious Saviour who has blessed us so much, to my great God who has cared for us so tenderly, so personally, so detailed, so knowingly.  I walk up and down the hall like I'd walk with an old friend to the next place we are traveling and reminiscing the whole way about our journey together.

My Lord has been so faithful. I don't know what the boys will remember when they recall my nightly prayer walking in the hall. But I pray they remember this most of all---the Lord is Faithful! 

Be a Tree of Life

Proverbs 11:30 "The fruit of the righteous is a tree of life; and he that winneth souls is wise."

I read these words this morning and this thought was pressing on my heart,

"Be a tree of life to others."

Now there's a life purpose!

Think about a tree, better yet think about the tree of life that was in the garden of Eden.

A tree of life:

• has good fruit, more specifically the Fruit of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, and temperance.
• gives life to others, by words and deeds.
• witnesses to others so they can have eternal life.
• has integrity which means a sincerity of heart and intention, truthfulness, uprightness. It is one of the words on the breastplate of the high priest.
• has knowledge or illumination of the mind to perceive things from God's eyes which is granted to those who have an honest relationship with Christ.
• knows what to say, when to say it, and how to say it.
• knows what not to say...ever.
• sows seeds of mercy.
• reaches for the Son.
• gives others a place of rest and shelter from storms.
• gives oxygen to others.

How can you and I be a tree of life to others today?

Love Letter Part 3

After reviewing my posts, I realized I never concluded Isaiah 43.
I felt the Lord speaking very personally to my heart when I first read this passage this summer.
He alone knew the fear and struggles I would face in the weeks ahead. He alone knew the great healing that was coming.

Here is how I penned it in my journal in August:

I created you, Christine. I formed you into who you are. I redeemed you from sin and shame. Christine, you are Mine! I love you and will not be okay with you straying from Me.

You have mistaken my love flowing through others as independent  of Me. You've mistaken the physical world as greater than what you can't see, feel, or hold. I am enough. If it wasn't so I would have told you. Some of what you feel is just being crucified with Christ. Be humble-life is about others. Be grateful-count your blessings and cherish the moments.

I have called thee to be a single mom. I have called thee to be a country mom of a handyman house. I have called thee to homeschool the boys. I have called thee....When you go through deep water, I will be with thee. I am the LORD thy God.

You are precious in My sight. You are honorable. I love thee. Fear not, I am with thee. Everyone that is called of mine name, I have created for My glory. I formed you. I made you. I am your potter. Be my witness. And my chosen servant that you may know and understand I am He.

There is no other god before me or after me. There is no other savior or hero coming to rescue you. I deliver-let Me work. I am your King. I will make a way. Remember not the former things. I am going to do a new thing. I will make a way in the wilderness. I will make rivers in the desert. Where you are thirsty the most, I will quench it.

You are one of my people. You are chosen, my chosen. You were formed for Me, to show forth My praise. I know you haven't been faithful, thankful, or joyful. I will blot out your sins and remember them no more. Put Me in remembrance of you mind. Meditate...think on Me. Because I am thinking of you.

The Great Healing

"Grief is very personal and unique to every individual. In my experience as well as working with others, I have learned that there is no specific time table to healing. Losing Jim was like being in a horrific accident where I lost my arm and leg. I felt paralyzed and overwhelmed by pain. Healing came slowly, very slowly. Emotionally, I felt like I was functioning from a hospital bed, and then a wheelchair. There has been specific times that the LORD did significant healing within me over the last almost 11years. Most recently, the LORD has brought a profound healing deep in my heart. I feel as if I have finally graduated from physical therapy with prosthetic limbs and I am able to walk again. I feel that the LORD and I can hike together now toward something special up ahead. I don't know what it is, but I know the LORD is good and He knows best."

I recently share the above in our family newsletter. As I walked in the silent snow this evening, a realized I am waiting. Part of me is anxiously waiting for what the Lord will do next, the other part is fearfully waiting for the pain to return.....am I really healed?

I see couples holding hands, especially elderly couples, and I smile instead of feeling a twinge of pain. I celebrated our anniversary with rejoicing over my adult nephew being baptized, no twinge of pain that day either. More heart checks: Two boys' birthdays....no twinge. Thanksgiving...no twinge.   Christmas is coming.....nothing yet. Hear about some people's loved ones passing on. I pray with understanding, but don't get sucked into a grief wave. I stand amazed and tremble.

Winter is here and that usually means dark clouds come with dread as the cold creeps in. It has been like that for ten years now. That is what I am used. Oct, Nov, Dec, Jan, Feb.....each month had certain grief days, some times quiet with silent tears, some times feeling hollow and alone, some times just making myself put one foot in front of the other. Finally March brings spring and as the cold leaves so do the clouds in my soul.

But this year is different, I have felt a inner joy and freedom that I can not explain. I know that my heart is fearful that it won't last. Am I really healed?  I think of all the people Jesus healed and I wonder....did the man with leprosy check his skin every day in the sunlight for weeks just to inspect for signs of its returning? Did the  lame women carefully stretch her legs each morning to make sure they still worked? Did Martha check on Lazarus in the middle of the night to make sure she wasn't dreaming, that he was really alive again?

I know in my head my fearful waiting is a lack of faith, a work of unbelief in my heart. So many years ago, God told me this would happen. Psalm 147:3 "He healeth the broken in heart and bindeth up their wounds." The LORD spoke specifically to my bleeding heart one night, "You won't always hurt like this." At the time, the thought was unbelievable. The pain was so intense I could not believe I wasn't dying from how excruciating it was. But I clung to this verse of hope, that it wasn't always going to hurt like that. The LORD was right. It took time, lots of time. 3 years in I could breathe better, 4 yrs in a painful outpouring followed by significant healing, 5 yrs in the pain dulled some, 6 yrs in He answered some questions, 7 years in a second great outpouring of pain followed by a gentle healing again, the next three years steady steps in healing with occasional set backs. This summer feeling like I was on the rim of an overwhelming canyon. Then this fall...some precious, precious time with my Lord. Just seeking His face in intense prayer and reading His word. Oh, how He spoke to my heart.

He spoke and God created light. Creation was spoken into existence, except man, He was more hands-on with man. But if I can believe He spoke and created this world and universe, why do I stand in doubt of His great healing on my heart?

Another verse God shared with me years ago is Mark 5:36 "Be not afraid, only believe." Jesus spoke these words to a grief-stricken father. Another father who brought Jesus his ailing son was told to believe. The father cried out, "I believe, help mine unbelief."

So that is me tonight. Lord, I believe You have done a great healing in my heart and that the pain isn't going to come back and pounce on me. But please help my unbelief that fearfully waits for the pain to creep up on me when I least expect it and to snatch away the joy I feel in my soul.

With trembling heart, I choose to believe.