Hope, Keeping it Real

Lessons In Living Through Dying

As I reflect on the last few weeks and the last ten months of my life, it keeps popping up that as much as I have experienced great loss I have also experienced great gain. I have learned so much in the process, and in the last days of my mom’s time on earth I learned more about living and life than I can completely understand.

I am absolutely still not sure that I have all the words, but in the meantime, I share what I can and hope that someone else will pick up even the smallest nugget that they can hold on to or release; whatever the case may be.

Life is really short. Really. Maybe I have a better understanding of that now more than ever. I don’t currently see that through a filter of sadness, regret or remorse but more through a filter of determination, courage and freedom.

What I learned about the brevity of life, even though my mom made choices that I wouldn’t make for myself, is that when you go through hard, ugly and painful things there’s still a blessing buried in that mess. It’s all about how you choose to see it. Even more so, how we choose to respond to it. I thought I had that concept pretty well mastered, but maybe not as much as I do now. Once again, as a believer in Jesus, I see how He is making all things work together and I am even more convinced that there’s no coincidence in His economy; just divine plans for a purpose.

I have realized after two plus years of hearing the words “new normal” that normal is not my favorite word, but new is a word that makes my top five. New after experiencing death takes on a whole new color and the best part of the new came on this side of heaven.

I have learned a whole lot more about my passion in life, and what picking up the pieces to rebuild looks like. There are more pieces being left on the floor than used in the creation of the next new chapter. That’s something that I have learned and understand at a greater level. New means new. Pieces of the old get added to the mould, but it’s a brand new creation opened up by purpose, plan and through a lot of pain. It’s still a new thing and sewn together by experience, belief and the choosing of one’s perspective and attitude.

I have learned the massive importance of true self care and how to go about that in the most loving possible way. Loving God and loving others is important, right now this other needs to crush the self care in the here and now as well as going forward. And it really just cannot be optimal or set aside for any good reason at all.

I have learned that a mom will truly go through life trying to protect their kids until their last dying breath. I have also learned to speak my heart even when it’s not the most favorable opinion and it’s still okay because my needs still matter as much as they always have.

Sharing all of these thoughtful and experiences seems like the best way through the grief. I long ago stopped saying things like I am fine. I have really learned more about the depth of His love for me. So instead of saying I am fine, how does “I am doing as expected” sound? Although I have also learned that grief does unexpected things at will all day long.

Take whatever you need to from this. If it’s how to see differently I hope you do. If it’s how to let go, I hope you do. If it’s how to find a mustard seed of faith then I hope you do. If it helps you let go, then I pray that you will.

Hope

Holes Made Whole

I just returned from an extended trip to the home country. I had four glorious weeks at H O M E in Montana.

One would think that in all of that beauty and serenity, that words would have come to me like a firehose but that is not what happened. Since returning to the desert, the words still have not been there. So weird for someone th at is constantly thinking and pondering and wondering and seemingly has a lot to say-sometimes too much to say.

While I was reading Bible scriptures and trying to get back in the groove today, I was thinking about the feeling of home and all that it was and all that it is. I was thinking about where God has me in this moment and season and seriously wondering why I could not feel Him. As if He has gone anywhere.

Maybe I was so focused on praying about my daughter’s return to health from having contracted COVID-19 that there was no room for any other words.

Part of the issue is that I am still recovering and reflecting on all that I was able to see, do and experience while at home with family in the places I love most. The other part, I suddenly realized, is that He is not gone away but my heart and soul are so at peace that I am not sure what to do with myself.

I know that He has filled so many holes in my heart over the years and that He has and will continue to do so. I just realized today that He was doing just that while I was on my little adventure. I was so filled up in His presence and surrounded by His glory that the holes were made whole. Even if for just a little moment in time, I was completely at peace and totally in a place of calm and serenity.

As a recovering codependent that tends to thrive in chaos, find chaos and create chaos when things become too calm (i.e. too close to making room for feelings and vulnerability) I am not looking for chaos but definitely not settled in calmness. So weird how that little itchy spot still tends to itch without me even realizing it. No surprise to Him, I am sure.

John 3:17 says this: “Jesus replied, “You don’t understand now what I am doing, but someday you will.”

No truer words apply for this day. No greater hope for what that scripture means for the one day that He returns or even for tomorrow.

The words are coming, He continues to fill the holes and make me whole, and I am full of gratitude and hope even when I don’t understand.

So how are the holes in your heart? Are you feeling them or are you filling them? What are you filling them with?