We sold our first house to friends. It is in the neighborhood over.
Today I dropped Matthew off there for a birthday party.
Even after 6 1/2 years, it is still a tiny bit odd to be in the house.
It is not that it is still home -- it truly isn't. It's just that it was home.
We brought 2 babies home from the hospital to there. Three learned to walk there. We celebrated our 10-year anniversary there. It is flooded with memories, even though the colors are not the same and the furniture is in different places (just as it should be).
And somehow that makes me...just a little sad.
I drove away and off to run errands...missing Keith.
My memories of there are ALL with him. We bought the house together and worked on it together. It was the first either of us owned.
I am a creature of habit, I know I am. I would make a good blind person, as I never move my furniture. When I think of repainting, it is not to change the color but to touch up what was already there.
I think that makes my grief just a little harder at times. I want to fall back and cling to the past. I fight the rut.
But God loves me enough to kick me in my complacency on a regular basis. He is there to pick me up after He does, but He does not let me wallow, He does not let me dwell.
My dear friend and fellow widow Theresa puts it in terms of the rearview mirror. We all have one in our cars because it is important to know what is going on behind you. We have to be able to move from in front of the fire engine or know when to stop for the police car. But we cannot spend too much time looking behind. If we do, we will inevitably get in an accident. The focus of our lives has to be in front -- where we are going, not where we have been.
I finished my errands and headed back home -- the dream house we built a year and a half before Keith died. More good memories. But not all these memories involve Keith. I have lived twice as long in this house without him as I lived with him.
Oh, the evidence of him is still all around. The man painted 17 -- yes, 17 -- colors of paint here for me. We still refer to "Daddy's closet" and "Dad's dresser." But there are things here he never did see -- including one currently-barking dog, and another currently-whining dog.
But somehow, after all the living here, the memories with and without Keith all have a place and are...just right. We miss him here, but feel close to him here as well.
I'll tell you a secret. The day we closed on this house, my big, strong, Marine husband cried. He felt so blessed by God to have this home, and so thankful to my mom for providing for us even after her death so that we could.
I am still blessed - to live here, to have been provided for equally well in death by Keith, to be able to continue to homeschool my boys...to live among the memories, and to have the freedom to create new ones.
I guess the suddenness of the onslaught of memories got me at the old house, and I started looking a little too much into my rearview mirror. Now, I am back on track, glancing in it periodically, but firmly looking forward as I travel forward in my life...blessed...so, so blessed.
You hem me in behind and before, and You lay Your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain. - Psalm 139:5-6
Monday, August 27, 2012
Friday, August 24, 2012
Stoned or Walled In?
The Lord tears down the house of the proud, but he sets the widow’s boundary stones in place.- Proverbs 15:25
I read this verse earlier this week and it struck me. I thank God every day that He maintains my boundary stones.
Today it happened again. This verse became real as God upheld my boundary stone...in the form of my wall.
This morning I stepped out of my bedroom and felt water on the carpet.
Living in the house I do--with the people and animals I do--I bent down to smell the floor and make sure it was really water. (It was.)
Then I realized we could be facing quite a conundrum here. Especially since I had just been spending time in prayer with God discussing the schedule for the next few days and how tight it would be.
God is forever setting my boundary stones in place as far as my time.
That's because I really, really, really need it.
I have once again over-committed our family, which inevitably leads to stress and confusion.
When I get these checks from God it simply makes me prioritize my life better. He is looking out for me, and keeps my boundaries in place by the way He pushes me to move at times.
So...blessing number one: the water was simply overflow from the drip pan on the A/C in the attic. My neighbor Jeff was home this morning and snaked it for me and cleared out the clog. He also told me to dump in some bleach to clean out the gunk in there. Easy for me to do.
Blessing number two: looking at the complicated nature of our schedule, my oldest graciously decided to not attend the lock-in at church tonight so that my stress level is down--no fussing, no complaining, totally gracious. He continues to surprise me with his maturity! What a blessing he is!
Blessing number three: even in this, I did not lose control, stress out, or fuss at anyone (too much)--real progress for me. (My children were so impressed they gave me a round of applause.)
My boundary stones are in place! God acted, changed me, refined me some, and it wasn't even too painful.
Praise God for His indescribable gift!
I read this verse earlier this week and it struck me. I thank God every day that He maintains my boundary stones.
Today it happened again. This verse became real as God upheld my boundary stone...in the form of my wall.
This morning I stepped out of my bedroom and felt water on the carpet.
Living in the house I do--with the people and animals I do--I bent down to smell the floor and make sure it was really water. (It was.)
Then I realized we could be facing quite a conundrum here. Especially since I had just been spending time in prayer with God discussing the schedule for the next few days and how tight it would be.
God is forever setting my boundary stones in place as far as my time.
That's because I really, really, really need it.
I have once again over-committed our family, which inevitably leads to stress and confusion.
When I get these checks from God it simply makes me prioritize my life better. He is looking out for me, and keeps my boundaries in place by the way He pushes me to move at times.
So...blessing number one: the water was simply overflow from the drip pan on the A/C in the attic. My neighbor Jeff was home this morning and snaked it for me and cleared out the clog. He also told me to dump in some bleach to clean out the gunk in there. Easy for me to do.
Blessing number two: looking at the complicated nature of our schedule, my oldest graciously decided to not attend the lock-in at church tonight so that my stress level is down--no fussing, no complaining, totally gracious. He continues to surprise me with his maturity! What a blessing he is!
Blessing number three: even in this, I did not lose control, stress out, or fuss at anyone (too much)--real progress for me. (My children were so impressed they gave me a round of applause.)
My boundary stones are in place! God acted, changed me, refined me some, and it wasn't even too painful.
Praise God for His indescribable gift!
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Of MRIs and Blessings
Yesterday I had the opportunity--and blessing--to help a fellow widow. I sat with her pretty little daughter while she had an MRI on her knee (poor thing).
When the nurse brought her back out, she asked Friday if she needed help getting back out to the car.
Friday said, "No, my friend is here with my daughter."
It warmed my heart.
First of all, I was that widow with young ones who needed this sort of help not that long ago. I needed people to stay with the boys for the doctors' appointments, the social events, and the Christmas shopping. I had so many people bless me, and it was a privilege to serve another as I had been served.
I also couldn't help but be blessed that we are friends in the first place.
We probably would not have met this side of Heaven, had we not both been on this journey in life.
We call our widows/widowers ministry Travelers on a Different Journey. It is not a journey we would have volunteered for, by any means.
But God, in His infinite wisdom and supreme grace, has allowed us to journey this path together.
It means more than I can tell you to have so many friends who "get it."
Don't get me wrong...all of my friends have been wonderfully supportive over the past nearly-five years. And they have walked this strange, long, twisting journey with me, involving themselves in my pain.
But I am not always sure they get my joy.
Sometimes I see in their eyes an accounting of the cost of my new joys...things that would not have happened but for the loss of Keith...and they don't really see how that adds up to joy.
But my Travelers friends do. Life takes on a new intensity after tragedy, and maybe especially after this tragedy. Half of me has been ripped away, but yet I continue...not just to survive, but to...thrive.
When I watched Oscar Pistorius run in the Olympics a few weeks ago, I saw joy. I saw a man taking what life had given him and using that very thing to catapult him forward...quite literally.
I cried, not only because he did well, and that was amazing, but also because of the look on his face. I could identify with the intensity I saw there...intensity for his running, not as a man with no legs...but as a man with a dream. He found joy in his journey.
And in this life, I am finding mine. Moment by moment. Through trials. Because of trials.
Praise God!
Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. - James 1:2-4
When the nurse brought her back out, she asked Friday if she needed help getting back out to the car.
Friday said, "No, my friend is here with my daughter."
It warmed my heart.
First of all, I was that widow with young ones who needed this sort of help not that long ago. I needed people to stay with the boys for the doctors' appointments, the social events, and the Christmas shopping. I had so many people bless me, and it was a privilege to serve another as I had been served.
I also couldn't help but be blessed that we are friends in the first place.
We probably would not have met this side of Heaven, had we not both been on this journey in life.
We call our widows/widowers ministry Travelers on a Different Journey. It is not a journey we would have volunteered for, by any means.
But God, in His infinite wisdom and supreme grace, has allowed us to journey this path together.
It means more than I can tell you to have so many friends who "get it."
Don't get me wrong...all of my friends have been wonderfully supportive over the past nearly-five years. And they have walked this strange, long, twisting journey with me, involving themselves in my pain.
But I am not always sure they get my joy.
Sometimes I see in their eyes an accounting of the cost of my new joys...things that would not have happened but for the loss of Keith...and they don't really see how that adds up to joy.
But my Travelers friends do. Life takes on a new intensity after tragedy, and maybe especially after this tragedy. Half of me has been ripped away, but yet I continue...not just to survive, but to...thrive.
When I watched Oscar Pistorius run in the Olympics a few weeks ago, I saw joy. I saw a man taking what life had given him and using that very thing to catapult him forward...quite literally.
I cried, not only because he did well, and that was amazing, but also because of the look on his face. I could identify with the intensity I saw there...intensity for his running, not as a man with no legs...but as a man with a dream. He found joy in his journey.
And in this life, I am finding mine. Moment by moment. Through trials. Because of trials.
Praise God!
Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. - James 1:2-4
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Confessions of a Possible Hoarder
I just felt the need to clean out my makeup case.
Never mind that we have to leave the house in half an hour.
(And if you are reading this post and wondering what possible purpose there is in blogging right now, I am wondering the same thing...but the words came, so here you go.)
As my sister would say, "Go with the urge."
We grew up in a family whose love language was gifts.
Okay, my mom was probably a hoarder. My sister is now saying, "No maybe about it."
Therefore, whenever I feel the need to purge, she is right there with me, encouraging me.
When she purges, she brings it to my house, but that's a story for another time.
As I sit here scraping years of makeup gunk from the bottom of the storage box I have (for those who know me, you are correct in assuming that the box is rather large--I am not a lipstick chicken!), I wonder at scraping the gunk from my soul.
Do I purge there when I need to?
I just tossed dibs and dabs of my favorite eye makeup of yesteryear. Do I take stock of where I am in my spiritual walk and throw away the old dibs and dabs of self-doubt that I used to enjoy clinging to?
I threw away the eye liners that were so short they could not even be sharpened again. Do I toss out pieces of me that are ineffective and not as spiritually sharp as they should be?
I let go of mascara that is so old they no longer make it. Do I let go of old hurts and habits in favor of new and more soul-pleasing ones?
I hope so.
I hope I can make changes in me that will not leave me with a gunky mess at the bottom of my soul. I hope I can start fresh and clean, leaving the guilt and pain of the past, the bad habits and sinful ways.
I get a sense of accomplishment and maybe even a little joy when I get cleaning jobs done. I pray that I feel the same with my eternal cleaning plan--now and always.
Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!- 2 Corinthians 5:17
Never mind that we have to leave the house in half an hour.
(And if you are reading this post and wondering what possible purpose there is in blogging right now, I am wondering the same thing...but the words came, so here you go.)
As my sister would say, "Go with the urge."
We grew up in a family whose love language was gifts.
Okay, my mom was probably a hoarder. My sister is now saying, "No maybe about it."
Therefore, whenever I feel the need to purge, she is right there with me, encouraging me.
When she purges, she brings it to my house, but that's a story for another time.
As I sit here scraping years of makeup gunk from the bottom of the storage box I have (for those who know me, you are correct in assuming that the box is rather large--I am not a lipstick chicken!), I wonder at scraping the gunk from my soul.
Do I purge there when I need to?
I just tossed dibs and dabs of my favorite eye makeup of yesteryear. Do I take stock of where I am in my spiritual walk and throw away the old dibs and dabs of self-doubt that I used to enjoy clinging to?
I threw away the eye liners that were so short they could not even be sharpened again. Do I toss out pieces of me that are ineffective and not as spiritually sharp as they should be?
I let go of mascara that is so old they no longer make it. Do I let go of old hurts and habits in favor of new and more soul-pleasing ones?
I hope so.
I hope I can make changes in me that will not leave me with a gunky mess at the bottom of my soul. I hope I can start fresh and clean, leaving the guilt and pain of the past, the bad habits and sinful ways.
I get a sense of accomplishment and maybe even a little joy when I get cleaning jobs done. I pray that I feel the same with my eternal cleaning plan--now and always.
Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!- 2 Corinthians 5:17
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Gifts of Mercy(Me)
I don't know how they do it, but the guys who write for MercyMe must be looking into my life.
If you are unfamiliar with this Christian band, they have beautiful, soulful lyrics which have touched me deeply on this journey.
When Keith died, we did a slide show for the funeral. The sweet friend who compiled it used two MercyMe songs in the background. These two songs epitomize the way I feel about not only Keith's graduation to Glory but also how I feel about being left here. We think about Heaven and talk about Heaven, but now half of me (often I think the better half of me) is there experiencing it. It takes a lot of the mystery and inevitable fear of the journey not yet taken away from that place for me...and for the boys.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ywDqzvKvvI (Homesick)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N_lrrq_opng ( I Can Only Imagine)
As I continued on this journey of widowhood and single parenthood, another MercyMe song deeply touched me. In the busy-ness of my life, I found little time to just be...to be a daughter of the King, blessed and highly favored. The words of this song I have played nearly weekly since it came out to recapture my lost self, my inner beauty, and my joy at being who I am in Christ.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1vh7-RSPuAA (Beautiful)
This is not a journey for the faint-at-heart, but it is a journey that, by the awesome and all-encompassing grace of our Lord, is very do-able. I cling to the good that has happened in my life--the joys that have been brought to us by the fact that we have had the opportunity to be cradled in the lap of the Lord and washed by His healing hands as we journey this road. To Him be the glory.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e8HgAVenbUU (Bring the Rain)
And even today, may we never fail to help others find the joy we have found. May we help them on their own journeys as well so that they can experience His healing touch.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3xzaivDbu9c (The Hurt and the Healer)
Amen and amen!
If you are unfamiliar with this Christian band, they have beautiful, soulful lyrics which have touched me deeply on this journey.
When Keith died, we did a slide show for the funeral. The sweet friend who compiled it used two MercyMe songs in the background. These two songs epitomize the way I feel about not only Keith's graduation to Glory but also how I feel about being left here. We think about Heaven and talk about Heaven, but now half of me (often I think the better half of me) is there experiencing it. It takes a lot of the mystery and inevitable fear of the journey not yet taken away from that place for me...and for the boys.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ywDqzvKvvI (Homesick)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N_lrrq_opng ( I Can Only Imagine)
As I continued on this journey of widowhood and single parenthood, another MercyMe song deeply touched me. In the busy-ness of my life, I found little time to just be...to be a daughter of the King, blessed and highly favored. The words of this song I have played nearly weekly since it came out to recapture my lost self, my inner beauty, and my joy at being who I am in Christ.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1vh7-RSPuAA (Beautiful)
This is not a journey for the faint-at-heart, but it is a journey that, by the awesome and all-encompassing grace of our Lord, is very do-able. I cling to the good that has happened in my life--the joys that have been brought to us by the fact that we have had the opportunity to be cradled in the lap of the Lord and washed by His healing hands as we journey this road. To Him be the glory.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e8HgAVenbUU (Bring the Rain)
And even today, may we never fail to help others find the joy we have found. May we help them on their own journeys as well so that they can experience His healing touch.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3xzaivDbu9c (The Hurt and the Healer)
Amen and amen!
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
I am a Four-Eyed Freak
Now I don't just have two eyes, Mom...I have FOUR! I can see even better!
Ah, the perspective of a child!
Matthew had just gotten his first pair of glasses and this momma was worried. How would he adjust to them? Would he feel...different?
I needn't have worried. He did feel different...and he was...glad.
When I found out we had lost Keith, the first words out of my mouth were, quite literally, "I'm a widow."
The reality of that did not hit me at that moment. Well, maybe on some levels. But not as fully as it later did.
Now, nearly five years later, I can truly tell you that I am...glad.
I know that sounds odd. How can having your heart ripped out, your life ripped apart, be something that makes you glad?
Ah, my friends, therein lies the mystery of God.
Today a dear friend of mine prayed for me as we were ending a play date..."Lord, help her to feel You as her Husband, first and foremost, above all others, all she needs."
Mostly I feel that--feel God as my Husband. Mostly I count my blessings more than my stresses, my joys more than my sorrows.
If you know me, you know me to be a glass-is-half-full kinda gal.
Thank God I am!
But it is a choice, one I have to make on a daily basis, sometimes a minute-by-minute basis.
Like my sweet Matthew, I choose to look at my lot in life as a gift and not a stress, a way to help me see better...
To see my Lord!
For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. - 2 Corinthians 2:17-18
Ah, the perspective of a child!
Matthew had just gotten his first pair of glasses and this momma was worried. How would he adjust to them? Would he feel...different?
I needn't have worried. He did feel different...and he was...glad.
When I found out we had lost Keith, the first words out of my mouth were, quite literally, "I'm a widow."
The reality of that did not hit me at that moment. Well, maybe on some levels. But not as fully as it later did.
Now, nearly five years later, I can truly tell you that I am...glad.
I know that sounds odd. How can having your heart ripped out, your life ripped apart, be something that makes you glad?
Ah, my friends, therein lies the mystery of God.
Today a dear friend of mine prayed for me as we were ending a play date..."Lord, help her to feel You as her Husband, first and foremost, above all others, all she needs."
Mostly I feel that--feel God as my Husband. Mostly I count my blessings more than my stresses, my joys more than my sorrows.
If you know me, you know me to be a glass-is-half-full kinda gal.
Thank God I am!
But it is a choice, one I have to make on a daily basis, sometimes a minute-by-minute basis.
Like my sweet Matthew, I choose to look at my lot in life as a gift and not a stress, a way to help me see better...
To see my Lord!
For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. - 2 Corinthians 2:17-18
Monday, August 13, 2012
Smack Between the Eyes
Not everyone is going to do a job the same as everyone else. I got that reminder big-time this past week.
I was watching someone work. She does things much differently than I do. Not incorrectly, but certainly differently.
As I was watching, another friend came up and commented on how he appreciated what she does.
I gotta say it. Inwardly, I snorted. Self-righteous little piglet that I am.
Then I got to thinking.
How often on this journey of grief have people snorted at me!
Stop homeschooling - you need more time to yourself!
Not dating yet?
You gotta take care of that right away!
You should..._________! (fill in the blank)
With prayerful consideration, I am doing things the way I feel I should be. Well-meaning though others may be, sometimes they cross the line, in my opinion.
I don't think they mean to hurt me or doubt my abilities...but sometimes that is just how it comes across.
Here comes the 2x4...I have done the same thing.
Shame on me!
Forgive me, Lord, for not trusting that You have given people certain jobs and certain circumstances to have their unique flair put into the work. Forgive me, Lord, for looking down my nose at them. Help me extend to them the grace that I expect to be extended to me.
And...forgive me, friend, for doubting you and not accepting your way of doing things.
I always thank my God for you because of his grace given you in Christ Jesus. For in Him you have been enriched in every way—with all kinds of speech and with all knowledge — God thus confirming our testimony about Christ among you. - 1 Corinthians 1:4-5
I was watching someone work. She does things much differently than I do. Not incorrectly, but certainly differently.
As I was watching, another friend came up and commented on how he appreciated what she does.
I gotta say it. Inwardly, I snorted. Self-righteous little piglet that I am.
Then I got to thinking.
How often on this journey of grief have people snorted at me!
Stop homeschooling - you need more time to yourself!
Not dating yet?
You gotta take care of that right away!
You should..._________! (fill in the blank)
With prayerful consideration, I am doing things the way I feel I should be. Well-meaning though others may be, sometimes they cross the line, in my opinion.
I don't think they mean to hurt me or doubt my abilities...but sometimes that is just how it comes across.
Here comes the 2x4...I have done the same thing.
Shame on me!
Forgive me, Lord, for not trusting that You have given people certain jobs and certain circumstances to have their unique flair put into the work. Forgive me, Lord, for looking down my nose at them. Help me extend to them the grace that I expect to be extended to me.
And...forgive me, friend, for doubting you and not accepting your way of doing things.
I always thank my God for you because of his grace given you in Christ Jesus. For in Him you have been enriched in every way—with all kinds of speech and with all knowledge — God thus confirming our testimony about Christ among you. - 1 Corinthians 1:4-5
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Manna to this Momma
God's got it. I know that. He has shown in so many ways, and in so many instances! I have faith in Him.
But sometimes in my heart of hearts, I wonder how He will work it out.
Today, I got a bit of an answer.
My dear friend Lorie had my little two over to play at her house with her youngest. They were playing Playmobil and had invented a game with families. Jackson was the dad, and Lorie started listening. Did he get it? Did he understand the dad role?
Praise God, he did! She said he was the proper mix of kind and strong and firm and loving. He gets being a dad, even though he was 2 1/2 when his dad died.
Now, I will take very little credit for how he learned the dad role. I certainly don't act the part "dad" but stick to "mom." It would not be a real representation of dads anyway, nor of moms.
My oldest steps up and acts the dad a bit, being a very loving big brother, especially with the little two.
I think, though, mostly Jackson has seen it modeled around him, and for that I am so grateful. Men at church have taken all the boys under their wing and modeled Biblical manhood for them. Neighbors and friends have allowed them to help them build things, fix things, take care of the house. They have talked endlessly about sports and guns and "guy stuff." They are crucial to me surviving as a single mom.
Even in a world where dads are often ridiculed as dumb, unnecessary, or irrelevant (look at most TV dads), the men around us are coming out of their comfort zones and away from their own busy home life to work with my boys. My guys are getting what they need to be dads themselves some day. The gap is being filled.
God's got it, and I don't have to worry.
And that is certainly manna to this momma's heart.
Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us, to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.- Ephesians 3:20-21
But sometimes in my heart of hearts, I wonder how He will work it out.
Today, I got a bit of an answer.
My dear friend Lorie had my little two over to play at her house with her youngest. They were playing Playmobil and had invented a game with families. Jackson was the dad, and Lorie started listening. Did he get it? Did he understand the dad role?
Praise God, he did! She said he was the proper mix of kind and strong and firm and loving. He gets being a dad, even though he was 2 1/2 when his dad died.
Now, I will take very little credit for how he learned the dad role. I certainly don't act the part "dad" but stick to "mom." It would not be a real representation of dads anyway, nor of moms.
My oldest steps up and acts the dad a bit, being a very loving big brother, especially with the little two.
I think, though, mostly Jackson has seen it modeled around him, and for that I am so grateful. Men at church have taken all the boys under their wing and modeled Biblical manhood for them. Neighbors and friends have allowed them to help them build things, fix things, take care of the house. They have talked endlessly about sports and guns and "guy stuff." They are crucial to me surviving as a single mom.
Even in a world where dads are often ridiculed as dumb, unnecessary, or irrelevant (look at most TV dads), the men around us are coming out of their comfort zones and away from their own busy home life to work with my boys. My guys are getting what they need to be dads themselves some day. The gap is being filled.
God's got it, and I don't have to worry.
And that is certainly manna to this momma's heart.
Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us, to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.- Ephesians 3:20-21
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