Thankful to be looking up

When you find yourself in the bottom of a pit, as I have this past week, you only have two choices. You can get comfortable there and just stew in the "muck", or you can look up and start climbing! As for me, I've spent enough time in my life "mucking around" in the bottom of these pits. I know that the longer I allow myself to stay there, the more it begins to feel comfortable and the harder it is to see that there is any way out! So, today, I choose to look up! "I lift up my eyes to the mountains - where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth." (Psalm 121:1-2) 

Author and speaker, Ann Voskamp, has learned the value of recognizing all of the "little" gifts that God gives us in our ordinary, everyday lives and being thankful. I'm reading her book: One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are.  Sometimes, especially when we're in the pit, we are so busy looking at all that is wrong ... lacking ... failing, that we forget to look at what is right and good.  "Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy - think about such things." (Philippians 4:8)  I've started my own list of "One Thousand Gifts".  It didn't grow much in the past week, but I added a few today, among them: 

• Seeing "the Sparkle" on my bed. (Someday, I'll tell you about the special meaning of "the Sparkle")
• Autumn's cool breezes
• The color yellow                
• Christian music and radio
• Praying friends

I am so thankful today for all of the gifts God has given me!  

Oh, and by the way, if you'd like to hear this amazing woman live in an on-line webcast - 'Say Yes to God' - tomorrow evening (7 PM EST, or 8PM CST), along with another amazing woman, Lysa Terkeurst of Proverbs 31 Ministries, go here to read about it and I'll meet you there, too!

Have a blessed Labor Day! 

~ Jan

How Do I Climb Out of This Pit?

I have looked at my last post too many times over the last 5 weeks. I've spent hours thinking about writing something new. I've had so many thoughts running through my head some days and other days ... nothing. For the past week, I've been steadily sliding downward into a pit of ... depression? Grief? Despair? I keep thinking that it's been almost 6 months since Tom died; I should be feeling better, not worse. And I'm afraid of this place I'm finding myself going continually deeper into. My mother suffered from depression for years. I've been in serious depression a few times, and mild depression more times than I can recount. I know I have to go through all of the dark valleys of grief, but the lines between grief and depression are blurry right now.  I've been taking medicine to combat depression since learning that Tom had a brain tumor last October. So, why, now, when things should be getting better, do I find myself feeling the most pain, loneliness, and helplessness that I've yet encountered?  What if I can't get out of this pit again ... ever?

I cried last night.  It's the first time I've cried in a long time.  I cried myself to sleep. I've been wiping tears away and swallowing lumps in my throat all morning. For the first time, I really don't care if I get dressed today or not.  I don't care if my bed doesn't get made. I forced myself to eat the only food that appeals to me at all - cereal - this morning only because my stomach hurts almost as much as my head does. 

My youngest son is rejecting me, telling me to go away from him. His first words to me this morning were "I'm ignoring you." When I ask him "why?, did I do something to deserve this treatment?" he just walks away without a word. My heart feels like raw meat that someone keeps stabbing or pounding on.

The minutes of my life tick by slowly as the memories rush past me and through me and overflow me with loneliness and leave me feeling empty and hopeless. And I'm back to being that little girl who had to be the "big girl" and desperately wanting to be taken care of again.  Tom took care of me. He comforted me. Encouraged me. Believed in me. He taught me to believe in myself. How I miss him!   

I know there are people who understand. Women who have walked this road before me, or are walking it right now themselves. Like my new online friend, Cindy Cain. This morning, I was reading her blog posts from the first months after her husband passed away. She was online on Facebook, and I put up the chat window several times (as well as the comment boxes on her posts), but I just stared at the windows, not knowing what I could say to her. I know there are people who want to help. What can anyone do? No one can give me my husband back. I don't want to feel this intense loneliness, but I feel like I can't talk to anyone right now. 

I know that God is my husband now. I know His promises are there for me. Right now, I have to just stand on that truth alone in the darkness, because I can't move from this spot and I can't see anything but the darkness.

So why am I writing this at all? There's no encouragement coming from me; I know.  Maybe it's just because I can't answer that question any other way right now. (You know - "how are you doing?") The truth is: not very well. Please pray for me.

Abide

"And in the midst of trying to help each of them achieve their level of independence while desperately wanting to cling rather than let go, I find that I, too, need to go through that whole nasty process of self-identification all over again!"

Ever since I posted those words at the end of my last blog, "Thirteen ... Eighteen ... Widowed", it's been (Holy Spirit)-bugging me! No, I DON'T! The whole idea of "finding myself" or "self-identification" is flawed in its concept. We never have to "figure out who I am" at all –not at thirteen, not at eighteen, not NOW! God's “divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of him” (2 Peter 1:3). His word tells me who I am (His child), my value (completely, eternally, loved) and my purpose in life (to know Him and love Him)! Sounds too simplistic, doesn’t it? That’s where we miss “getting the message” … we get caught up in the details. We want to know “but what do I DO with my life? How do I pay my bills? How do I know where to live? … go to school? …work? … and on and on. How is my life to have meaning? How am I to be productive? Even as I write these words, He is answering me … “abide”. That is all He asks of me, of any of us. Abide in Him.

The word “abide” is a word we don’t use much these days. When I went looking for the scriptures that I knew used the word “abide” I kept coming up with “no results”. Even when I tried using the concordance in my NIV bible, the word “abide” was not there! But the Holy Spirit had clearly said “abide”! One of the problems of “growing up” as a Christian with at least three different translations of the Bible is that I never know what version I memorized something in and therefore, don’t know where to look when the Holy Spirit brings the Word to mind … it can be very puzzling and frustrating! In this case, the word “abide” is used in the KJV and translated “remain” in the NIV.

In the gospel of John, chapter 15, verses 1 – 17, Jesus tells his disciples that He is the vine, we are the branches and God, the Father, is the gardener. If we remain (abide) in Him, He will remain (abide) in us, and we will bear much fruit (be productive)! But if we do not abide in Him (if we strive to live life apart from him), the “gardener” will cut us off and discard us as so much dead wood! Those of you who garden know that a plant produces much more “fruit” if you remove what is dead so that the “life” of the plant is not sapped by trying to revive the dead thing and goes into producing new growth.

Earlier this summer I had some landscaping done. A “dead” corner outside my front door was given new life by removing a nasty scrub tree and creating a triangular planting area with my existing shrubs and adding 7 shrub roses, some grasses, and a few boulders. The shrub roses bloomed profusely in the first weeks but a few weeks later had only “spent” blooms with few new blooms. The landscapers who had installed them came back to finish some driveway work, and one of them took the time to show me that I needed to “dead-head” the roses for them to continue to bloom well. I did that at once, and within a couple of days, my roses were beautiful and covered with new blooms again! In the weeks since, it’s been too hot or too wet to get out there and tend to the roses. I let them go. Again, there are very few new blooms and a lot of spent blossoms. Yesterday I spent several hours getting sunburned “dead-heading” them again.

It occurs to me that our spiritual lives are a lot like those rose bushes. When we are “bearing much fruit” (everything looks beautiful and productive), we tend to forget the need to continue to tend to our relationship with the Lord. We’re too busy! And then things get “too hot” – troubles come, life gets complicated – and again, we don’t have time for the Lord. Or it is too “rainy” – doesn’t it seem that when one thing goes wrong, everything goes wrong at the same time? Only when the Master Gardener steps in and starts “cutting off” the things that are “dead works”, does life and fruitfulness begin to return. I am so thankful that He continues pruning and promoting growth even when we are unfaithful or distracted.

This blog has drifted so far away from my original intention: to share the truth that God has already defined who I am and my purpose in life, and all I really need to do is abide in him and He who began a good work in me will also complete it!

For a list of some of the things God has said about me, my life, you and yours, please read this wonderful blog: Measuring Up by Renee Swope of Proverbs 31 Ministries!

Thirteen ... Eighteen ... Widowed ...

Thirteen. We all remember being 13 ... and every one of us has said it many times - "I wouldn't be thirteen again for ANYTHING!" Right? I remember being 13. Trying to figure out who I was ... who I wanted to be ... What was special about me? Did anyone like me? What did it take to be "popular"? Did I have what it takes? Did I want to have "it"? Up one day ... down the next. Confident and scared to death all at the same time. Life was a roller-coaster and the future a mist that I couldn't see through. Do you remember? I do. I have a 13-yr old son who is living it now.

Eighteen. A high school graduate. An "adult". On my own. Having to support myself and make all my own decisions for the first time. Needing to move "forward", but not having the foggiest idea what direction to go. So many directions, so many choices, so many possibilities. Feeling very small and unprepared in a great big grown up world. Wanting to "live my own life" ... determine my own future ... have my own home ... have my own family ... "do it my way" (which I was sure would be the right way). Having a lot of ideas and ideals, and only a vague plan as to how to achieve them and no plan as to how to finance them ... Can you relate? My 18-yr old son can, I think. He's there now. I can certainly relate to him!

Widowed. Suddenly I'm 13 again. And 18 again. Everything that defines who I am, my purpose in life and my future has changed. Maybe if my kids were little and I could hang onto them and throw myself into being "mom" and defining their lives it would be different. Maybe if they were bot h grown adults and on their own living independent lives that I was no longer responsible for and Tom and I had retired and survived an "empty nest" and defined our later years together ... would it be different? But one just turned 13 and is barreling ahead insisting on living his own life while still wanting everything done for him and handed to him without any effort on his part ... and the other just turned 18 and graduated and really wants to pull away and get out on his own and have his own place and, yes, live his own life too. And in the midst of trying to help each of them achieve their level of independence while desperately wanting to cling rather than let go, I find that I, too, need to go through that whole nasty process of self-identification all over again!

Be still, there is a healer

His love is deeper than the sea

His mercy, it is unfailing

His arms, a fortress for the weak

Recently, I woke up slowly with the realization that the chorus of a song was repeating in my sleep: "Let faith arise, let faith arise, open my eyes, open my eyes". While I was sure that the song was familiar to me, I couldn't figure out what song it was. I thought it might be one of the last few songs I had downloaded into the music player in my phone so I quickly checked those and found that it wasn't any of them. Then life got busy and I forgot about it.

I lift my hands to believe again

You are my refuge, You are my strength

As I pour out my heart, these things I remember

You are faithful, God, forever

In the midst of my daily array of thoughts, feelings and busyness, I have been realizing that those words sung in my sleep were beginning to be manifested in my spirit. I began to realize that there was a renewed yearning for relationship with the Holy Spirit and a growing re-commitment to seeking Him and trusting Him as the Source of all in my life

Be still, there is a river

That flows from Calvary's tree

A fountain for the thirsty

Pure grace that washes over me

This morning, I had the radio tuned to my favorite Christian station and running in the background as I was sitting on the porch and being "busy". Suddenly my attention focused on the fact that I was hearing those words again ... "Let faith arise, open my eyes...". Phone apps can be very convenient and helpful for spur of the moment needs! I opened up my "Soundhound" app and let it listen. It is the song "I lift My Hands" by Chris Tomlin.

Let faith arise

Let faith arise

I am so thankful that even in my weakness and unfaithfulness ... His is faithful forever!

Father's Day

Today is Father's Day. It is Sunday. Service started at my church about 20 minutes ago. I am not there. I feel guilty. I feel like this is just one more area of life that I'm losing control over. At 1:30 AM, our dog stuck her nose in my face and woke me up. The last time she did that, I took it as an act of God to get me up. This time it was just frustrating and annoying. Why did she have to go out at that hour? As I walked through the house to the front door to put her out, I realized the kitchen smelled like food - recently cooked food. Coming back in, I saw the dirty dishes on the counter and sugar crystals left there by my (other)"sugar-hound's ice cream snack. One was still awake with lights on, the other in a dark room that smelled strongly of gum - lots of gum! After cleaning the kitchen, bringing the dog back in, telling the one to go to sleep and checking on the other, I found it difficult to fall back to sleep.

Is is just a sign of this phase in my kids' lives that they stay up half the night, sleep half the day, eat in their rooms and don't help with much of anything to keep the household going? Or is it a sign of how we are all pulling apart from one another and into ourselves? Probably some of both. But I feel like I'm losing all definition of "family" and all control over myself and my household.

I don't know how long I laid there. The next time I woke up and checked the clock it was 6AM. Too early to get up. I didn't want to get up. I wanted to sleep ... and dream. Back to sleep. Back to dreaming. I almost never can remember my dreams, and rarely even have the sense that I've been dreaming at all. The last few days, I'm sure that I've been dreaming ... life dreams full of people and activity and emotion ... but still can't remember any part of it. When I wake up and move through the day, though, I have the feeling that my "real" life was more "real" in my dreams, and that my waking "life" is really a "dream". Anyway, I fell back to sleep and dreaming.

The next time I woke up, it was after 9AM! Church starts at 10:00. Not enough time to get done all of the things I needed to to get my household "up" and running for the day, get myself and my youngest ready to leave and drive the 30 minute drive to church. Decision time. I could have made it (albeit a little late, as usual) by throwing clothes on, leaving all the morning "routine" for after church, and with a lot of pushing and dragging. But at least we'd be there (we won't be the next 2 or more Sundays anyway). Tom would have gone. He would have wanted us to go. I feel like we're all losing our commitment and self-discipline in our relationship with the Lord and our church families. Everyone has given so much to help and support us, I don't want to seem ungrateful. Then I remembered that it was also Father's Day.

There would most likely be a lot of talk on the radio in the car on the way to church about it. I'm sure there would be some "honoring" of the fathers present in church. Families would be together and celebrating their fathers. And my kids would be continually reminded that their father was not here today. Their father will never be here again. We haven't talked about it. I realized that I have the same feeling that I have when it is another holiday that we don't celebrate ... I want to just lay low, stay home and wait for it to pass. It hurts right now to think about how this day would have been (should have been) different!

I didn't wake my sons up. We didn't go to church. I'm sorry. We miss you terribly, honey! We wish you were here so we could say "Happy Father's Day! We love you!"

Oh no, You Never Let Go - Even through the "firsts"

I woke up at 3 AM today with the chorus of a song repeating over and over in my mind:

Oh no, You never let go

Through the calm and through the storm

Oh no, You never let go

In every high and every low

Oh no, You never let go

Lord, You never let go of me

(You Never Let Go by Matt Redman)

This doesn't happen to me very often and I wondered why this song, and why now. Immediately, the answer came to me. This song is so significant to my online friends, Maria and Cody, and to the sweet little daughter, Susana, that they lost to brain cancer just as Tom went into hospice. I prayed for Maria and Cody and their family.

I was wide awake. I realized that this was probably the first time since Tom was diagnosed with his brain tumor that I had woken up in the night with enough peace in my life to feel how alone I was. That thought made me think about Leah (another online friend), whose post about all the "firsts" that she was experiencing since the death of her husband in early May had been the last thing I'd read before dropping off to sleep in exhaustion. I've been through so many "firsts" in the past 3 months since Tom's death ... including his "first" birthday without him (he would have been 60 on June 6th), just two days ago. Three of his four children have had their first birthdays without their dad; so have I. Our first child graduated without his dad, and I held my first graduation party without my husband. Soon, we will take our first "family" vacation without him there, too. Yes, Leah, there will be many firsts. I prayed for Leah, too.

And through the time I was awake, I realized that I was not alone. I haven't really felt alone. I've had people around me and helping me through everything. A lot of people. So much so, that, at times, I longed to be alone. I'm actually looking forward to things slowing down a bit now so that I can spend some time alone. But there is definitely a difference between being "alone" and being "lonely". While I want time "alone", the feeling of "loneliness" is where I miss Tom. I miss his presence. I miss being able to talk with him. I miss being able to share life with him. I miss his wisdom, his stability, his optimism. I miss the way he always came alongside of me and helped me with the mundane and the demanding tasks of life. I miss dreaming with him. I wish I could sit on my newly remodeled porch and enjoy our newly landscaped yard and the quiet beauty of this first day of summer vacation with him. I wish he could be seeing the irises bloom and the first Peony open! I wish we could be looking forward to his retirement and our first years together after the children are all grown. Yes, I'm lonely. I'm lonely for him. This is when I feel sad and my heart is heavy. This is the work of mourning.

It will soon be the 3 month anniversary of Tom's death. Occasionally, people will say to me something like "Oh, that's right. You're still mourning." Like they forgot, or I should be over it by now. In some ways, I feel like I haven't had time to begin mourning; I don't think it will be over soon.

Yes, I can see a light that is coming

For the heart that holds on

And there will be an end to these troubles

But until that day comes

Still I will praise You, still I will praise You