My Time In The Wilderness

There are endless wildernesses we face during our time here on Earth.   After listening to one of Pastor Stuart’s great messages, I’ve come to recognize that I am in another one of my wildernesses.   I believe God places us in these wildernesses when he really needs to get our attention.

Six months ago I left the church that saved my life and the pastor and Grace sisters who encourage me on my walk with Jesus.   For six months I’ve searched for a new church “home” and the company of fellow Christians.  No matter where I looked, I could not find what I was looking for.   I knew that God had a reason and a plan … that there was something He wanted me to know.

Over the last few months God has put many people on my path -- all of them non-believers or otherwise non-practicing Christians.   I’ve embraced all of them … I’ve witnessed, I’ve counselled, I’ve encouraged, and I’ve even stood tall and firm when the Devil has presented himself.    

Last night God put a person on my path that does not believe in the goodness, the mercy, the grace, and the love of God.   It drained me.   At the end of our time together I felt very empty and very alone.    I felt adrift in a sea of non-believers and I was aching for fellow believers who practiced prayer, praise, and witness.    I awoke this morning wanting, needing so badly to get to church and be among believers, but I realized I didn’t know of a church that would fill the bill.   

God kept talking to me all morning .. my daily devotional was right from God and as I sat meditating on it I realized that I had just what I needed at my fingertips!    Blue Ridge View and Pastor Stuart --- on my computer!    His talk was about “The Potential for Problems”.    As I sat listening and reading and taking notes I was embraced by just what I needed and will continue to need until the end of my days on Earth --- the WORD of God spoken by a person who is passionate about God and who helps me truly understand God’s Word.    

As I listened, with tears running down my face, I realized that I have been in a wilderness and I could begin to see at least a part of God’s plan.    He has put me here to help and witness to those who do not know Him but also to show me the power of Christian fellowship.    I know know what has been missing and I trust God that my days in this wilderness will come to an end.

Squandered Time

This morning I was cleaning out my jewelry  box -- a chore I’ve been putting off for a long, long time.    As I pawed through its contents I found way too many mismatched earrings -- one of the pair long lost somewhere along the way; long-forgotten pieces of jewelry from my mom and grandmother; and earrings so out of date I had to laugh!    I have a tendency to put important (or seemingly important at the time) papers in my jewel box as well -- my passport, an important receipt, and the such.   As I was unfolding some of these papers I came across a letter my precious husband had written me back in 2000, before we were married.    

The letter took my breath away.   First of all, my husband seldom wrote letters and, secondly, this letter was written at a time when we were apart.    He spoke from his heart about our relationship and the treasure we shared.    The letter spoke of a cassette tape he had recorded and enclosed with the letter.  He said he hoped the tape would speak to my heart and say the words he was having trouble saying.  

At the mention of the tape I broke down in tears.   I realized that I had NEVER listened to it!   I was so angry at the time he sent it that I probably just threw the cassette away.    Then it hit me --- I had SQUANDERED something that I would give anything and everything to have today!   

How much time, love, opportunity do we SQUANDER?   I’m afraid to say that when I look back on my life, I see so, so, so many times I have SQUANDERED so many of the gifts that God has given me.     I guess it’s easier to see how much we’ve wasted as we get older.    

Growing older provides us with a wonderful, and often overwhelming, wisdom.   Wisdom is why we can look at our children at times and feel so broken-hearted when we see all that they are squandering; all that they are taking for granted.    It’s an age-old problem.   

“If  I could do it over.”    Boy, how many times do we wish we could have a “do over”?    To have the chance to react differently?  To say something nice?   To take back the words we said? Hundreds and hundreds of times is the answer.   There is no "do over" for me today.   That tape is long gone, as is my husband.   I guess he can sing me those songs when I see him again in heaven.   

Psalm 90:12 sums this up for me:   “So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.”

This is my prayer today.   I pray that I will look on each moment of my life, each interaction with the people I love, with a heart of wisdom that KNOWS that my days are numbered and precious!

Thank you, God.

In Search Of Stillness

Published in Grace In the Wilderness Newsletter (wildernessgrace.org)

“Be still and know that I am God" 

Psalm 46:10

I came to the ocean seeking stillness.   I came to the ocean in hopes of becoming still enough to hear God.   I needed God to speak to me.   I needed His direction and His guidance.  

I came to the ocean seeking stillness.  I thought it would be easy.   

When we’re seeking stillness we tend to think:  If only I could get away; if only I could be quiet for  few moments; if only I didn’t have to do a,b,c.    I thought I would find stillness by coming to the ocean.   I thought I would find stillness by slowing my life down.  I thought I’d find stillness by spending more time in prayer.    What I found, however,  is that true stillness -- the shutting out of the world, the quieting of the mind -- is NOT easy  to achieve.   Being at the ocean, I definitely was feeling calmer … but the stillness I was seeking remained elusive.  

One day, quite by accident, I found/experience complete stillness.   That magical time when all the noise of the world, all of the responsibilities and obligations of life ceased to exist!     I found that moment of stillness by floating face up on the turquoise waters of the Gulf of Mexico.   As I floated  I purposefully opened myself up the wonder and beauty of God’s universe.   I did not pray.  I did not speak.  I just floated in pure silence.   All noise was gone -- both internal and external.  All there was was me, suspended on the turquoise water, staring up at God.  Without a word, without a thought, I felt as though the power and peace of God’s creation had entered me and lifted me up.  I had a true sense of stillness and everything was well with my soul.   

I found stillness, but it was momentary.   As I arose from my glorious time floating without  a care or a thought, the “noise” of earth gradually overtook the silence and peace I had been feeling.   Slowly, but surely, the stillness was replace with reality.  Ugh!   You know that pesky old thing called “reality” --- the responsibilities of life, the chores to be done, the shoulda, woulda, couldas.    

In her book, Gift From The Sea, Anne Morrow Lindburgh states that “distraction (noise) is, always has been, and probably always will be, inherent in woman’s life.”    How true!   Our days are filled with endless obligations and responsibilities.   Children, husband, home, work, grocery shopping, laundry … on and on and on.   How do we get still?  How do we find stillness in our days, weeks, life?

How do we keep still?   There is No On/Off switch.   We can’t just flip a switch and become “still”.    There’s no way I could remain floating on the water for hours, let alone days (I’d get pruney and sink!).   I am finding that stillness happens in moments and that true stillness is a habit to be developed, day by day.

"Silence helps us to understand our inner self.  If we want to understand God's way for us, silence is needed.  Stillness and quiet are like nourishment."   

O.S.B. André Gozier

I know.  I know.   Easy for him to say!    But, think about it for a minute.   All of us busy women crave moments of silence … to be able to hear ourselves think, to hear our own voice, to hear God’s voice.    We think, “If only I could win the lottery and have several days, weeks or months to just get away and commune with myself and my Lord”.   

There’s an old saying that I love -- “no matter how far your run, when you stop, there you are”.   Truer words were never spoken!   I can run to the ocean.   But, when I stop and stare out at the ocean I am still present with my mind spinning, juggling all my responsibilities and obligations.    We have to STOP ourselves.   We have to be STILL in order to experience STILLNESS.

I think my floating experience is a great metaphor for daily life.  I cannot possibly spend enough time silently floating on the water to avoid the noise of the world.   I can, however, float for a few minutes of Divine silence in order to commune with my God and to receive His energy, His strength, His power.     Ahhh.....those few moments of quieting MYSELF, of turning off all the noise, all the obligations, leave me recharged and ready to re-confront my day, my duties, my obligations.

I don’t have to fight for his attention.   I don’t have to go out into the wilderness and seek isolation to achieve the stillness that allows him to talk to us.   Exodus 14:13 instructs us, “The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.”

We can do that.   Each of us can make choice every single day to commit to a few minutes of mentally floating on turquoise water and being still.   You will be amazed at how refreshed you are and how God opens up a channel to talk with you, encourage you, and show you the way. 

Peace.

I'm coming up on the end of the second year without my sweet husband.   So much has changed, but then again, so much remains the same.   Over the last few weeks random thoughts, memories, and moments have popped into my head.   Good memories.   Bad memories.   And everything in between.   I work very hard to push the bad memories (the last days of his life here on Earth) out of my mind, as that is NOT the way I want to remember him.   I prefer to think of the happy times --- dancing at our wedding, holding our first grandbaby, working in the garden --- or, trying to imagine what he must be experiencing up in heaven --- the splendor of our Lord, the lack of pain, sorrow, worry.

Tonight I went to the annual women's conference sponsored by my dear friends and grace sisters of Grace In The Wilderness (wildernessgrace.org).   It is a two-day gathering of women to drink in the blessings of our Lord and to share our stories, our joy, our tears.    Each year I think that I could not be more touched by the women who share their stories, more moved by the presence of God in our midst; but every year I leave the conference humbled, encourage, and truly touched by the Holy Spirit.    

From the beginning of my journey through my husband's illness and death, I have held tight to the belief that God not only carries us through the storms of life, but that he also pours out his blessings on us.    The speaker at our meeting tonight is a brave young woman (wife and mother of three) who fought and survived cancer and her story, her experience, the beauty of her faith, helped to remind me of the blessings that Jesus has poured on me and continues to pour on me.    

I am so thankful that this women's conference has come at this time --- about two weeks before we mark the passing of sweet Len.    I am finally starting to feel at peace -- I miss him so very much and know that there will never be a day when I don't think of him, don't miss him.   But, the pain, the pure grief, has started to subside and I am finding peace and hope and I am building a vision of this next phase of my life.

Peace.   One of the greatest feelings on Earth.

The Christmas Tree & Glass Baubles

This is the second Christmas without my sweet husband.   As I've learned to expect, this Christmas is different from last Christmas, which was different from all the Christmases before.   Last Christmas can best be characterized as "NUMB".   We all went through the motions, but looking back on it now, I can say we were making a great attempt to be jolly and normal.

I am beginning to understand and accept the grace of transition in my life.   I've recovered from the frustrating stage of being a petulant child who refuses to accept that I can't have what I want -- my husband back -- to an adult woman who realizes that it is my job and my need to find my way alone.   There is a certain peace that I am beginning to find and to feel. 

With my new found acceptance (peace), I have been enjoying decorating my home for Christmas.   There are lights on my deck and the front of my house -- sweet fairy lights that shine out into the world welcoming the birth of our sweet Jesus.  

In the past, Len and I would have enjoyed the great "Christmas Tree Hunt" -- either going out in the woods to find a beautiful cedar (his favorite) or to a tree farm to find a spruce (my favorite).   This year my Christmas Tree is a small artificial tree that was my Mom's.   It is precious to me.   It is pre-lit (what a wonderful thing), and it is flocked so that it looks like there is snow on the branches and is adorned with beautiful, red berries -- a woodland tree.   It is perfect.   It is so perfect that I was inclined to leave it "bare" -- no ornamentation.    

Like all of us, I have amassed hundreds of ornaments collected lovingly over the years.  I usually love the hours I spend taking them out of their boxes and hanging them on the tree, enjoying the memories that each ornament holds.   As I continued to decide on how much I was going to decorate the tree and the house, I realized I did not want to use those memory-filled ornaments.   So, instead I decided I was going to just pull out my box of glass beads and simply drape them on the tree.   

To my great surprise, I opened a small box that was in with all my glass beads, and found some ancient, delicate, fragile glass ornaments that had been in Len's family since forever -- most likely his grandmother's.  I had packed them away for safe-keeping as I had always been afraid of using them.   As I opened the box and carefully discovered each beautiful little ball, I was warmed by the presence of memories of Christmases "past".    You know the feeling -- the ability (as years go on) to bump up against a "memory" and smile instead of cry.

As I held these precious balls in my hand I decided that they had to be on the tree this year.    As I began to hang them on my little tree I felt my husband, I felt his mother and father, his grandparents, his children and grandchildren -- I spoke to him and began to cry -- the gentle tears of acceptance.   I talked to him about how I loved these old ornaments, how I was missing him so much, but that we are all okay.   And then, all of a sudden, I started laughing!    I realized that here I was describing all the things that I was enjoying about Christmas, how much I missed him, and it hit me!   WAIT!   Why am I feeling bad that you aren't here with me for Christmas?   You are in heaven and getting ready to go to Jesus' birthday party!   Talk about the ultimate Christmas celebration!    I laughed, I smiled, I felt at peace.     

My simple, little Christmas tree with its fragile, delicate ornaments is perfect. 

Merry Christmas & Happy Birthday Sweet Jesus.

Grief: No Expiration Date

Denial:   I Wasn't Expecting You.

What do dreams tell us?   I've always believed that dreams are a window into our subconscious --- revealing things that we don't want to think about or that we have yet to resolve.   Our challenge is to figure out what the seemingly mismatched puzzle pieces mean.    

I have been in Florida for about three weeks now -- obviously I've lost track of time.   This has not been the pleasure trip I had planned months ago as my sweet Aunt Patti has been diagnosed with brain cancer and I came to Florida early to spend some quality time with her and help her.  I am going to leave that story for another time, as a more compelling thought is now dominating my consciousness.    

So, without going into details about my time in Venice, FL with my aunt, I am now in Casey Cay, Fl -- one barrier island north of my aunt's home in Venice.   My cousin Robin and her husband, Paul, rented a darling Sears Kit house on an incredible piece of property that runs from Little Sarasota Bay in the backyard to the Gulf of Mexico in the front yard.   Unlike Venice, it is quiet, there are no neighbors or friends bustling around, and the Florida wildlife is abundant.   In the backyard (Little Sarasota Bay and the Intercoastal Waterway) are two docks where I can sit in the shade of the mangroves and watch herons, egrets, and other birds and fish unknown to me, quietly go about their daily chores.   The front yard is an uninterrupted view of the turquoise waters of the Gulf and the horizon, with dolphins breaking water a few feet off the beach.   I've come here, to Casey Cay, to recharge and restore after three very hectic weeks helping my Aunt and hosting up to 20 relatives at a time.    Thanks to cousin Robin, I am experiencing the beach that Anne Morrow Lindberg talks about in A Gift From The Sea --- right down to the simple little house.   I feel so, so blessed!

I have been here for two nights.   And it is the dream that I had last night that has prompted me to open up the ole' laptop (there is no WiFi here) and write down this dream in hopes of understanding it and of giving it the attention I believe it deserves.   I welcome all feedback as it is yet another piece of the grief journey that has surprised me.

Last night I had a long, long dream that my sweet husband was alive.   I think it may have started where he was alive and healthy, but I can't be sure of that.   What I do remember -- the part of the dream that even coming half awake would not stop -- was that he was sick and I was trying to get him to the hospital.   In the dream we were driving somewhere --- the place is hard to pin down as during the dream we were in many towns and cities.   I find it is impossible to write the story of a dream as when you start to write it you realize how disjointed and illogical it is/was.   So, rather than try to recapture the one trillion nuances of the dream, I will boil it down to a few sentences.

The gist of the dream was that I thought Len was alive and we were sharing a normal day.  Then he got ill and while the doctors were trying to figure out what was wrong with him I realized that he had died a year earlier.   I didn't say anything to the doctors as I thought they would think I was crazy.   But eventually, I had to tell them --- we were all amazed.   What I remember most about Len during this dream is an incredible restlessness --- his pacing and confusion, a childlike attitude.       When I told the doctors that he had died a year ago they were as amazed as I was -- they didn't laugh, they didn't say "hey lady, you are dreaming" … they were just as amazed and curious.   All of my costars in the dream were helping me deny the fact that Len was dead and that this was a dream.   

Or, was it more than a dream?   Was it yet another step in the process of grief?

Denial.   One of the many steps of grief.  Steps that take NO LOGICAL sequence.   And, I guess I'm learning, that you will experience each of these steps or phases and that there is no expiration date --- you will experience them.   During this last year I have never felt a sense of denial in Len's passing --- it was real, I accepted it, I celebrated it, but I never denied it.   

Well, this morning, in the beautiful peace of this sweet, little Sears Kit house on Casey Cay, I think I finally experienced denial.   I cried.  I pleaded.   I moaned.   I groaned.   I begged God to bring Len back to me.   I cried and clung to Len begging him not to leave me.  I felt a profound grief that I haven't felt in many, many ;months.    The ONLY sense I can make of this dream here in the early daylight of the beach is that I have now firmly stood of the step of denial and I will honor it today knowing that my God is healing me and moving me along.   I hold on to the Truth that God uses change to change us.   He doesn't do it to destroy us but to coax us to the next level of character, experience, compassion, and destiny.   

"I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until is is finally finished…"   Phillippians 1:6

Working Through Denial …. 

I have returned to Venice from Casey Cay and the sadness and sorrow of my dance with denial continues.  

I am so conflicted.   

On April 28 I am supposed to scatter the ashes of my sweet husband, Len.     It has been almost 14 months since his passing and although it "seemed" like it was "time" to do it …. now that the date is approaching, I am not at all sure I am ready to "do it".    I am conflicted.   I am feeling conflicted because ….

1.  I should be ready to do this

2.  Len is probably restless in that box

3.  The kids are ready to do this 

4.  I said I would do it

5.  And my favorite -- will I ever be ready?

I am so sad.

Here at the beginning of Year 2 of Len's passing, I am feeling so very sad.   I had expected that I would be moving from sadness and beginning to really make my new life.   Instead, I am finding that Year Two is similar to Year One, but with another focus.  Year One was all about Len --- his passing, his being "gone", his being in Heaven and no longer suffering.   It is like all of my attention and emotions were focused on his passing and all of the "stuff" you have to do --- from remembering how to get up in the morning and give a darn to the joys of probate, insurance, and all the other "business" issues.    Year Two is feeling more personal.   I am so much more aware of other couples.  I am reminded constantly of how much I miss having Len in my life.   I am jealous of the couples who are still sharing life and enjoying their dreams.  I am acutely aware that while I am alive on this earth I will never see Len again.   I am just starting to feel the depths of my sorrow at losing my partner, my love.    

Who'da thunk that I would start feeling these emotions right now?   NOW -- when I'm supposed to be ready to let go and move on.   The planned sowng and burial of Len's ashes has come at the wrong time …. OR … it it exactly the right time?    Thus my state of confliction! 

Is there EVER the RIGHT time to do this???????    Are we ever READY to let our loved one(s) go?    I know in my heart, soul and even my gut that the answer to that question is YES!   Yes, we do come to that point in time when we are ready to let go.   But, I believe the time COMES to us --- it is not something controlled by the calendar.   

When do we push and when do we sit still?

My "nature" has always been to push on -- to be strong and to carry on.   I've come to learn that much of my "natural" ways of handling things are wrong.   That is is better to be still than to push.   To listen instead of talk.   To reflect rather than to act.    Perhaps it is my inner spirit that is talking so loudly to me again --- telling me to allow myself to be still -- to not push.    Why else would I feel so totally overwhelmed right now?   So raw.  So sad.  So lost.   

Is this another place where I'm rushing too much?   Expecting too much of myself?   Not allowing myself to feel the sorrow, to accept it, to embrace it and in doing so, be preparing to let go?    Hmmmm…….that thought just struck a chord.   Perhaps you are never ready (or able) to let go until you've gone through each step of grief.  I am praying that  once I've danced each step of this life-altering dance I will be truly able to accept the loss and let go and receive the gifts God is giving me let go, to heal, to mend, to move on.   

Be still and listen.  Be still and feel the feelings.   Be still and trust the process.   Be still and know that our loving God is leading us through this challenge and He hears our cry, He hears our prayers, and He will always keep us safe.    

"In times of trouble, may the Lord answer your cry.  May the name of the God of Jacob keep you safe from all harm."   Psalm 20:1   

Time

What is time?   Well, according to dictionary.com, TIME is:

1.  the system of those sequential relations that any event has to any other, as past, present, or future; indefinite and continuous duration regarded as that in which events succeed one another.

2.  duration regarded as belonging to the present life as distinct from the life to come or from eternity; finite duration.

3. (sometimes initial capital letter ) a system or method of measuring or reckoning the passage of time: mean time; apparent time; Greenwich Time.

4. a limited period or interval, as between two successive events: a long time.

5. a particular period considered as distinct from other periods: Youth is the best time of life.


Despite those definitions, I am finding that “time” is truly relative!   “It’s been so long!.”   That can mean it’s been 100 days or 1 day … depending on the speaker; depending on how MUCH the elapsed “time” dragged.    “It’ll only take second.”   So often spoken meaning not 1/60th of a minute, but just a “little” bit” of “time”.

Am I making you dizzy?   Sorry, I don’t mean to.  I’m just musing with the notion of time at the moment.   

If you have been following this blog, you know that I’ve just experienced the one-year mark of the passing of my beloved husband, Len.   One Year.   How long is one year?   It’s 360 days.   It’s 8,640 hours. It’s 518,400 seconds.   It’s one anniversary.  It’s two birthdays (mine and his).  It’s one Valentine’s Day.   It’s one Easter.   It’s one Memorial Day.   It’s one 4th of July.  It’s one Labor Day.   It’s Thanksgiving.  It’s one Christmas.   I could go on and on but I’ll spare both me and you the redundancy.   

ONE YEAR. It’s a long time.   It’s a short time.    

Less than a week ago I wrote about how I had chosen to look at the approach of the ONE year anniversary of my husband’s “going home”.   I was strong, I was positive, I was faith-filled, I was celebratory.    THEN …. in just ONE phone call, my strength, my positive attitude crumbled.   

During the afternoon of March 7 I found out that our daughter’s mother-in-law had passed after a long battle with breast cancer.    I had been praying that she would NOT pass on March 7 … to please spare my sweet Kally the pain of having another death on the same day as her precious father passed.   My prayers were not answered.   I know there is a reason both of these parents were taken on the same day, one year apart.  I have no idea of God’s plan for this, but I totally accept there is a reason and a purpose to it.

One Year. A long time?   A short time?   It’s both long AND short.  As the old saying goes …. wow, a year?  Seems like only yesterday and at the same time it seems like forever.   How true.  How true.

One Year Later. I thought I would be stronger.   Unfortunately, I found out that I am NOT as strong as I thought I was, hoped I was, or wished I were.   When I heard the news of Nathan’s Mom passing, all I wanted to do was get to Charleston to be with Kally and Nathan.   To be there to help them, to show my support and my respect for their family.   I started making all of the arrangements.   Then, once the arrangement were made, I froze!   I can hardly explain it --- I became overwhelmed with anxiety, fear, uncertainty.   A vice grip of stress and anxiety took over my body and my brain.   I became frozen in an unexplained fear … the fear that i had endured for the months right after Len’s passing.   

HOW COULD THIS BE HAPPENING?????   It’s been a year!!!!  Get over it, girl!!!!   I spent the next 12 hours trying to referee a raging fight between my gut and my brain.   My gut brain said “get it together; you have to be there; Kally needs you there; you should be able to do this; stop being such a wuss”.  My gut, on the other hand, was yelling at me to stop, to stay still, to not go.   Back and forth and back and forth the battle went on for hours.    

My support circle of friends told me to listen to my gut --- to take care of myself first.   Now, if you’re a woman, you know how hard it is to do that.   If you’re like me, my first reaction is always to meet the needs of my family.   Taking care of “me” is one of the fine arts I’ve been cultivating over the last dozen years or so.   I heard my friends …. I knew they were right …. I listened to my gut --- which I believe is my soul --- and knew it would be okay for me to take care of me.   I regret the need to do so … I wish I had endless energy and strength and fortitude …. but I don’t.   Sometimes there just aren’t a pair of big girl panties big enough to handle the situation.   

What have I gleaned from this?   GRACE.   Beautiful, sweet, gorgeous GRACE!   Grace is an amazing thing -- it comes in more colors than the rainbow.   Just when I think I’ve seen and felt every type of Grace that God provides, I am amazed (but now surprised) at finding another variety of Grace.     

Grace to be present in the moment.   Whatever that moment is ----- it is our moment; our reality; our condition … and God pours his Grace all over us when we are willing to be still and listen to his still, small voice telling us to stop....to trust...to respect.    

Thank you, my amazing God, for your Grace and your guidance.   All Things Are Possible Through You …. not me!