Grieving

As I walked up the stairs, I could feel them coming.  All the usual signs were there: the flushed face, stinging eyes, beads of sweat on my upper lip.  They came as soon as I opened her door.  Tears.  They began slowly, then began streaming down my cheeks as the flood gates opened.  It was the first time I had been in my oldest daughter's room since she left for college.  Her walls were bare.  Her bed not slept in.  The loss of her daily presence gripped my heart.

They came again later while driving.  I passed a billboard celebrating the survival of a cancer patient.  The sadness engulfed me.  There will be no such celebration for my mom.  Her cancer is rare, tenacious, and deadly.  Her healing and celebration will come as Jesus ushers her into heaven.

Grief....the emotional response to loss. Just to say the word brings a heaviness, an ache.  Grief is not something we look forward to experiencing.  In fact, most of us do whatever we can in order to protect ourselves from it.  But it never works.  Grief comes to us all.

So in this season of grieving, I am learning to lean into it.  To feel the loss, the hurt.  To be present and not try to deny it or hide from it.  What I've experienced is not only the sadness, but the comfort, peace, and dare I say it...joy.  Not in the loss itself, but what the loss reminds me of.

I miss my daughter a great deal, but am reminded of our wonderful relationship and the deep love I have for her.  A love I wasn't sure I would ever experience.  And as I have the honor and privilege of helping to care for my mom for a short time, I am reminded of the grace and restoration that God has brought to our relationship.  He has brought us so far and there is great joy in that.

I know that grieving is a process.  There is an ebb and flow to it.  And really, it won't be finished this side of heaven.  But as I walk this path, I know I am not alone.  I have family and friends.  Most importantly, I have a God who is "close to the brokenhearted" (Psalm 34:18).  He gives me His peace and comfort.  He holds me close and gives me hope.  He is the source of my joy.

 

The Mighty Works of God

We went to a Matthew West concert a few nights ago.  It was great.  He not only sang songs, but told the stories behind the songs.   

One was of a young man with cerebral palsy.  The young man related his disability to that of a blind man found in the bible. The account is found in the ninth chapter of John where Jesus' disciples asked Him whose sin caused the man to be blind.  Jesus replied, "It was neither that this man sinned, nor his parents; but it was so that the works of God might be displayed in him."  That's when my son with autism leaned over and said, "That's just like me."  It was all I could do to squeak out an 'uhuh' through the lump in my throat. 

As tears stung my eyes, I thought of the truth of that statement.  My son is well aware that he has autism.  He knows that it somehow makes him different, even if he doesn't fully understand how. He knows that God made him that way for a purpose.  He knows that God has a plan for him.   He knows God will use him.   What he may not know is how God has already used him to show me faith in action. 

I have seen child like faith as my son prays, fully expecting God to work on his behalf.  I have seen boldness in declaring the gospel as my son tells others about Jesus.  I have seen compassion at work as he holds the hand of a young child who is nervous on the first day of bible school.  I have seen persistence as he tries to learn a new skill.  I have seen growth and development where experts told us not to expect any.  I have seen the mighty works of God displayed in him...

Signs of Spring

It's been a very long, cold, bitter winter.  I have friends and family in the North who are tired and weary of the cold, the snow, the shoveling, the ice, and the cancelled school days.  Even here in the South our winter has been colder and longer than usual.  So I can't tell you how thrilled I was to see the first signs of Spring; the tiny buds on our trees and bushes indicating new life.  How I have been longing to see them come!

That same longing occurs when I endure a long, difficult season in my personal life.  A season that keeps dumping more and more on my already overwhelmed circumstances.  A season that sometimes leaves me feeling trapped, keeping me indoors, isolated from others, and unable to freely move about. A season that seems to never end.  I get tired and weary, wondering if I can really make it through another storm.  I long for a new season, new life.  And then it comes...the first signs of Spring.  A day with laughter after the loss of a loved one.  A day at school without a tantrum for your child with Autism.  A peaceful, loving conversation with your teenager who seems to be angry all the time.  A call for a second interview after months of looking for a job.

Signs of Spring.  We need them.  We long for them.  They help us persevere.  They are reminders that this season will end.....

Survival of the Early Years

When people find out that I have five children including a set of quadruplets, I'm usually asked how I did it.  How did I survive and  maintain my sanity?  I usually answer the same way; by the grace of God and our church family.  

God put us in a church that loved others and was willing to jump in when needed.  We had over a hundred people who came to our house to help with babies, house cleaning, lawn work, and meals.  And God supernaturally helped my husband and I to just do what we had to do.  I've noticed, though, that this answer, while true, doesn't seem to satisfy.  Really, what people want are some specific things we did when faced with a God sized calling.  So here are a few.

We admitted our great need.  We knew we were in way over our heads.  In fact, I told God several times during the early part of my pregnancy that I was not going to be able to handle five kids.  I was not equipped in any way shape or form.  And this was not the plan that we had for our lives.  Admitting our need may have seemed like an obvious thing to do given the circumstances, but it was difficult.  My husband and I were driven people who liked to control and plan things.  (We still do.)   We were taught to do what you had to do to help yourself in life.  Now we had to admit to others that we needed help; we couldn't do it ourselves.  It was hard. 

We let others help even when it was uncomfortable.  It was strange having people in our house all the time; seeing our dirt and mess.  Women came to our house to clean our toilets and mop the floors.  Those are things I would normally do before people came over. Yet all I could do was thank them.  One of the most difficult days for my husband was when our pastors wife mowed our lawn.  She was just being a mom and helping her teenage boys who had volunteered to mow.  But there she was, in the front yard doing what he had always been able to do, but couldn't now.  Letting others help was very humbling.

We prayed.  We prayed for God's help, His wisdom and guidance, His provision, His strength.  And He was faithful.  God provided laborers.  He provided expensive formula from a doctor who knew our need.  He provided financially through my husband's job.  He gave us strength when we were at the end of ourselves and felt like we just could not go anymore.  We experienced first hand the miracles of God.

I reached out for specific help.  As I said earlier, I was not equipped for five small children.  I knew I needed help.  I asked a  wonderful woman (the one who mowed our lawn) if she would meet with me and be my mentor.  I had questions about raising children and she offered answers covered in prayer and love.   I reached out to my doctor when I thought I was going crazy trying to keep it all together.  (She had four kids including a set of twins so she understood my life!)  I reached out to a Christian counselor so she could help me with my perfectionism.  I reached out to friends to help me maintain perspective and provide fun and laughter.  I learned the importance of community and friendship.

We took breaks from the day to day demands.  My husband and I had a lot of dates the first couple of years after the quads were born.  We knew we needed time to be together and reconnect as a couple.  We also gave each other breaks.  The best thing my husband did for me was book a hotel room for a night.  I would go in the afternoon and not come back until the next day.  I got to do whatever I wanted.  I would sleep, read, watch a movie, eat an entire meal before it got cold, and enjoy the quiet.  He did this several times for me.  It's probably the main reason we're still married and I didn't lose my mind!

In the end, it boiled down to God's grace and our church family.  It still does....

This is not Goodbye

Since my children were born, I've known that God has a plan for their lives, an eternal purpose for each one of them.  A purpose to bring honor and glory to Him.   For this, He has gifted each one of them and given them each a passion for something.  (Even if they're unsure of what that is now.)  So in my season of preparing to let go of my children, I hold on to the knowledge that God loves each one of them deeply and that He has a great adventure prepared for them.  One where they will know Him more intimately and personally.  One where they will be salt and light pointing others to God.

I have rediscovered a song from the Sidewalk Prophets called This is not Goodbye from their Live Like That CD.  It's a beautiful song that speaks to this very idea of letting go so that someone you love can go be who God created them to be.  Enjoy...with Kleenex.

Being Seen

Lately, I've been watching What not to Wear while I eat lunch.  I enjoy watching how the hosts help the contributors realize their potential.  They help them to accept who and where they are in life and to dress the body they have, not the body they wish they had.  It's fun to see not only the physical transformation, but the emotional one as well. 

The contributors vary in age, gender, ethnicity, life experiences, family situations, employment, etc.  But I am struck by a recurring theme for many of the female contributors... wanting to be invisible and unknown.  They are so afraid of rejection or so used to it that they think being invisible is a better alternative.  So they either fade into the back ground or dress in a way to garner attention, but still remain anonymous.  How sad.  Yet, it's become a way of life for many women.  And it's a lonely place to be.  I know; I've been there.

Like most women, I long to be seen, to be known, and be loved.  Yet, my fear of rejection kept me from letting anyone see the real me for many years. I was so sure that if people really knew me, the good, the bad, and the ugly, that they would pull away or condemn.  So I hid.  I made sure I didn't stand out.  I tried to do the right things, say the right things, and be what others wanted me to be.  As I lived trying to be unknown, I found myself withdrawing and isolating.  I convinced myself that I didn't have real value.  I was sure that in the end no one would miss me.  Besides, how can you miss someone you don't really know?  But God...

But God stepped in and showed me the truth; God does see me.  He knows me fully.  It was He who created me; formed me in my mother's womb.  He knows the number of hairs on my head.  He knows the good, the bad, and the ugly. He knows where I've been and what I've done.  And yet, get this, He loves me....deeply and unconditionally.  There's no need for me to shrink into the shadows and hide.  I am fully known and loved by God.  And so are you!  Let these truths settle in and take root in your heart.  Let yourself be seen.  Venture out and be who you were created to be.  And know your courage just might give others the boldness to step out of the shadows, too....




 

The Retreat

This past weekend I spoke at a woman's retreat in Bedford Springs, Pennsylvania.  We were at a spa resort which boasts eight natural springs purported to have healing qualities.   It was wonderful.  It reminded me why I so enjoy going to retreats.

As women, we spend a lot of time making sure we have on our armor and our masks.  We want to protect ourselves from hurt and present a 'put together woman' to the world.  Then we go to a retreat.  It's a time for each woman to step out of her life and take a breath. It's a time where we can lower the armor and the mask and be who we really are.  We get to practice vulnerability.

I'm always amazed at how worshipping, learning, and laughing together can allow women the freedom to share more freely what's really going on in their hearts and minds.  We all start out as 'fine' and sooner or later are willing to talk about those things with which we are struggling.  And as we lower our protective gear and share our hearts, others can come in to encourage and love us.  It's a beautiful thing to see!  Women listening to one another, crying with one another, celebrating with one another, praying with one another.  It's seeing God's love in action.  It's magnificent! 

The key for me is to keep practicing vulnerability after the retreat ends.  Satan is quick to whisper that I have taken off the mask and someone might see the real me.  His lies say that who I am is not good enough and the mask must be put back on.  This is where I must turn my focus on God and His truth.  I am good enough and valuable because I am His.  God reminds me that with my mask and armor on, I'm not able to receive the encouragement, love, and grace I need.  So I keep the mask off.  It can be scary.  Sometimes others don't like what they see.  But mostly, others are just relieved because they too are choosing to live without the mask.  What freedom!