I was reading through my journal from the last year tonight. As I read, memories and events came flooding back. At first, I felt like I was intruding on someone else's life. Gradually, I gripped the fact that the words I was reading are from my very own heart and they are the words that make up a portion of my story. It's amazing what I have buried deep and chosen not to deal with, I didn't even remember certain things until I read my own written words....I was quickly transported back to the moment. Quickly the pain knives into my soul, quickly the hot tears fall from my tired eyes, quickly my body racks with silent sobs that turn into child like wails.
The truth is, 2013 was a tough year. If you have followed any of my writing or know me at all, you know the scoop well. My Dad has been and is transitioning through the ugliness of Alzheimers disease. My Momma has been and is grieving an inexplicable daily loss of her true love. The "slow goodbye" sums up the nastiness of Alzheimer's quite accurately. We lost our precious and beloved Granny. More grieving. Our actual physical home has been in a constant state of flux and chaos. We were betrayed by close friends and there was betrayal in our marriage. Nathan and I were separated, living in two different homes for a time. I began working full time again. Add to that the stress and pain family and friends have been through and it's easy to see - 2013 was a tough year. It's a lovely attribute that I am also able to have gratitude and joy in these moments, and I have love lifting me up on all sides at all times...this does not change the reality of pain though. I feel anger like I have never felt before, I feel ready to fight for my territory that has been unrightfully challenged....it is not okay for anyone to keep peeing on my grass (as a dear friend so eloquently put it!) I feel weak alone but when I see how far God has carried me, I have the strength to lean harder into Him.
There are days when things feel lighter, and I am certain we are crossing the proverbial bridge. There are days that are heavy and I feel doubts creep in. That is when I have to actively choose love. I believe love, as well as forgiveness are choices. HARD choices sometimes. I also believe that giving up would be a HARD choice...so I choose the road less traveled and the one that I trust holds full restoration and healing. I choose the difficult road because I believe it is the path that will bring back home where we belong. We are so worth it, I have to remind myself of this when my exhaustion seeps in, when my feelings lie and when I am accused. I have to remember whose child I am. Traveling up the mountain we continue to climb.
Thursday, May 15, 2014
Thursday, May 1, 2014
release
It's one of those morning where my heart is filled with peace in some situations and trepidation in others. Those two...peace and trepidation collide and I'm processing through writing, hoping that brings some light and full peace to my situation.
My Daddy seems to be content in his new home. There is great peace in that. It puts me at ease to know that he is safe, he can walk circles all night if he wishes and we can visit at any time. It brings me joy to feel bonds grow as my dear family pulls together to ensure we are all apart of daily visits to Daddy and loving each other and him through this. It hurts my heart to go through the adaptation of not having him home anymore. He has been the center of many of our lives for the last couple of years, he IS my Momma's universe.
Now, instead of being scared for his safety, worried for my Momma's stress level and just exhausted from constantly being 'on', we have turned to different tasks....learning the ins and outs of the center, its's rules/staff/residents, deciding whose turn it is to make a nightly or morning check in call, still worrying about my Momma, and visiting, visiting, visiting. A new type of exhaustion. There is a simultaneous peace and weariness in the process of letting go. Releasing.
I resigned from a job that I truly love. I gave a two month notice, so my last day will be May 30. This means as of today, I have exactly 30 days there to leave my legacy. I want to make sure my families are in a good place and that the person stepping in for me is well equipped to provide services to each family. It seems like so much to do in a very little amount of time. Never enough time. I have many co workers who I love dearly, and they will be hard to leave. I was absolutely sure when I resigned that I was being led to leave, and I didn't know why. I still do not.
It is a huge exercise in trust and I begin to feel familiar self doubt creeping in. Where will we find the money we need? What if it doesn't work out? What if I am incorrect in where I feel 'led'? I have to consistently shush myself. In the quiet, my heart wonders how many opportunities I have missed because I have refused to step outside of what is safe and familiar, even if it wasn't for my best? This is a new adventure, new beginnings on the horizon, IF I will release what is not, never was and never will be 'mine'.
I got to meet with someone last week that has been in my life for over a year. I never knew this person was in my life until January, 2014...and then I found that they had been playing quite an unwelcome and intrusive role behind the scenes in our marriage. Meeting with them was another thing I felt 'led' to do. I did ask God, "why?", many times. In the end, I felt such an overwhelming peace and calm that I had no doubt that the meeting was supposed to occur. It was not easy but it was a truly good thing for my heart, and I do hope for that persons heart as well. Again, I am left working on full release.
The theme is obvious, isn't it? It is time to let go, to release to God and let God do what only God does. I wonder....when I am able to do this, will the trepidation be gone and the peace be overwhelming? I do believe that is the case. I prayed for restoration. I can't have the new until the old is completely torn down. But man, the process is tough, isn't it?
Stella just turned on Cyndi Lauper's "Girls just wanna have fun." We danced. I DO wanna be the one who walks in the son/sun....I fully trust I cannot do that while I am hanging on so tightly to all else.
My Daddy seems to be content in his new home. There is great peace in that. It puts me at ease to know that he is safe, he can walk circles all night if he wishes and we can visit at any time. It brings me joy to feel bonds grow as my dear family pulls together to ensure we are all apart of daily visits to Daddy and loving each other and him through this. It hurts my heart to go through the adaptation of not having him home anymore. He has been the center of many of our lives for the last couple of years, he IS my Momma's universe.
Now, instead of being scared for his safety, worried for my Momma's stress level and just exhausted from constantly being 'on', we have turned to different tasks....learning the ins and outs of the center, its's rules/staff/residents, deciding whose turn it is to make a nightly or morning check in call, still worrying about my Momma, and visiting, visiting, visiting. A new type of exhaustion. There is a simultaneous peace and weariness in the process of letting go. Releasing.
I resigned from a job that I truly love. I gave a two month notice, so my last day will be May 30. This means as of today, I have exactly 30 days there to leave my legacy. I want to make sure my families are in a good place and that the person stepping in for me is well equipped to provide services to each family. It seems like so much to do in a very little amount of time. Never enough time. I have many co workers who I love dearly, and they will be hard to leave. I was absolutely sure when I resigned that I was being led to leave, and I didn't know why. I still do not.
It is a huge exercise in trust and I begin to feel familiar self doubt creeping in. Where will we find the money we need? What if it doesn't work out? What if I am incorrect in where I feel 'led'? I have to consistently shush myself. In the quiet, my heart wonders how many opportunities I have missed because I have refused to step outside of what is safe and familiar, even if it wasn't for my best? This is a new adventure, new beginnings on the horizon, IF I will release what is not, never was and never will be 'mine'.
I got to meet with someone last week that has been in my life for over a year. I never knew this person was in my life until January, 2014...and then I found that they had been playing quite an unwelcome and intrusive role behind the scenes in our marriage. Meeting with them was another thing I felt 'led' to do. I did ask God, "why?", many times. In the end, I felt such an overwhelming peace and calm that I had no doubt that the meeting was supposed to occur. It was not easy but it was a truly good thing for my heart, and I do hope for that persons heart as well. Again, I am left working on full release.
The theme is obvious, isn't it? It is time to let go, to release to God and let God do what only God does. I wonder....when I am able to do this, will the trepidation be gone and the peace be overwhelming? I do believe that is the case. I prayed for restoration. I can't have the new until the old is completely torn down. But man, the process is tough, isn't it?
Stella just turned on Cyndi Lauper's "Girls just wanna have fun." We danced. I DO wanna be the one who walks in the son/sun....I fully trust I cannot do that while I am hanging on so tightly to all else.
Sunday, April 20, 2014
Simply my Daddy
Happy Easter 2014! These last couple of weeks have wreaked havoc on my actions, but alas...my intentions have been beautiful. Forgive me if my writing is scattered, that is just a mirror to my life right now. :) Although this post is not concentrated on gratitude, I just want to emphasize how much I have realized how blessed I am to have such support from loving friends and family. My dear siblings and my Momma....not enough words in the human language to express how much they hold my heart together when it is broken. So thankful.
Yesterday, I took John with me to the Jenks Herb and Garden festival. He fussed the entire way there and the first 20 minutes. This is John's typical response in unfamiliar situations. After a bit, he shared, "Momma, don't say I told you so, but this is a lot more fun than I thought it would be." Victory! We got some awesome plants and seeds, saw lots of cool dogs and ran into many friends.
This year the kids each get their own garden box and John chose to plant watermelon and a 'ghost pepper' plant. This young man hates peppers, and he hates hot, spicy food. Thus, it makes sense that he chose the second hottest pepper on earth. The sign said the 'scorpion pepper' was the hottest and I finally managed to talk him out of that one, so he settled on the ghost variety. Trying to think like a 12 year old boy - whether I like peppers or not doesn't change the fact that it sounds way cool to say I grew a ghost pepper....one of the hottest peppers ever! I hope if they are prolific, we have friends who want them.
Yesterday and today I got my hands in the dirt...literally. I weeded, shoveled, turned soil and set plants. The point is that I did it all begrudgingly, in the beginning. All of it, the festival and the gardening. You see, it has always made my Father so proud to see me gardening. He comes from a farming family and I used to believe he was proud because I was continuing the practice (on a very small scale). Today, I think he was proud simply because he saw the joy and excitement gardening brought me. It was a topic we could talk about other than cars, and I loved those conversations. When I began gardening, Dad was the one who tilled my garden and helped me plant. As the years passed, I'd take him with me to purchase plants, usually from Conrad's in Bixby. Later, he would 'supervise' and give me helpful hints. I never planted the tomatoes far enough apart, and I never made the hills and straight lines he recommended. Still, he was proud. Last year, Dad was a little lost while Ethan, Nathan, the kids and I planted, but he still shared a bit of wisdom and enjoyed watching the action. Momma drove him over countless times to see my garden growing and every time I felt like a little kid, excited to see my parents so I could share my accomplishments with them. This year, my Daddy is not at home to enjoy my garden, thus, I dreaded even doing it.
Where is my Daddy?
My precious Daddy was admitted to a hospital unit for Seniors with dementia. He has been there several days now, and it has been a roller coaster ride for us all. Some days are good, some days are bad; I would not say any have been excellent. There are times that we are certain we have made the best decisions, and there are days we doubt every decision made. Again and again I say, Alzheimer's sucks.
We can only visit him one hour each day during his stay in the unit. One hour. My Momma is used to round the clock, 24 hour time with my dad. My sister, our spouses, our brother, these children of ours...their grandchildren...Daddy and his Alzheimer's are all a big part of our lives. One hour is difficult to say the least. In the beginning, it is restful. Then, as you begin to catch up on the rest- reality sets in. Reality that life has changed dramatically and that once more, a 'new normal' is occurring, with or without our permission.
Tomorrow is his 80th birthday. My Daddy. The Swahili. The tireman. The guy who plays the accordion beautifully and plays the melodies by ear. My Daddy who has always said he will live to 104. The man of great wisdom such as, 'if a frog had wings it wouldn't bump it's ass every time it tried to fly.' and 'I don't mind birthdays, they are better than the alternative'. My encourager. My Daddy who always smelled wonderfully clean and left the scent of his cologne on the leather of his truck steering wheel. My daddy with the grease stained hands. The fisherman. The helper. The maker of silly faces. My Daddy the hard worker (some might say workaholic). My Daddy who can whistle any tune and who always tried to see the bright side. My hard headed, stubborn, set in his ways, cuss at his broken lawn equipment, Daddy. The one who always filled Momma's car with gas, the one who protected, the one who really believes the best about his kids (but also knew the worst), the one who loves us with all he has. My Daddy who finds his God not inside of a church building but rather, in the great outdoors. And all he is was never perfect. Ever. It was though, absolutely real and just what I needed to be who I am (which has also never been perfect).
Tomorrow, April 21, 2014 is Daddy's 80th birthday. Tomorrow, we move this sweet Father of ours to his new home, a place designed just for those who need 'memory care'. Memory care. Memory care. Still processing the weight of the fact that this is where we are. This is bittersweet. I hope he loves it there, and I pray we are confident and at peace with decisions made.
My most recent visit with Daddy was two days ago. It was a really good visit, the most positive one I've had with him in a long time. He greeted me with a smile and a, "Hi, guy!" He introduced me to some of the staff as his beautiful son. I've been 'his son' for quite a while now, but not since his admission to the hospital. Somehow, there is sweet relief in being 'his son', or 'bud' once more.
We walked. We talked. I promised him that when I planted my garden this year, I would heed his advice and put the tomato plants a good distance apart, and in a line. He talked about tire gauges. We were holding two separate conversations and we were holding hands. As we circled the floor, we stopped so he could smile and speak to the same people he had spoken to a few moments earlier. He sought out a new patient who was very tearful, and he asked her what was wrong. She wept, and told him how she just wanted to go home. He placed his giant hand on her shoulder gently and said, "I have a sign in my store that says, 'if you think you can, you will.' He gave her shoulder an encouraging squeeze and we resumed our walk. I cherish that glimpse of my Daddy, he is in there somewhere, the Alzheimer's is just hiding him deeper every day.
I'm going to see my Daddy tomorrow. I will be sure and tell him Happy Birthday. I will let him know that I really did set the tomato plants a decent distance apart, although I could not bear to do hills...and I attempted to make straight lines. I will let him know that although I entered into my project begrudgingly, the dirt did it's therapy on me and I'm excited about my garden. I will tell him how deeply I love him and how thankful I am for him, and how I hurt for his hurt and am thankful for his life. I will tell him, thank you for simply being my Daddy.
I pray John, Stella and Nathan are able to see him too. I pray it is an EXCELLENT day.
Yesterday, I took John with me to the Jenks Herb and Garden festival. He fussed the entire way there and the first 20 minutes. This is John's typical response in unfamiliar situations. After a bit, he shared, "Momma, don't say I told you so, but this is a lot more fun than I thought it would be." Victory! We got some awesome plants and seeds, saw lots of cool dogs and ran into many friends.
This year the kids each get their own garden box and John chose to plant watermelon and a 'ghost pepper' plant. This young man hates peppers, and he hates hot, spicy food. Thus, it makes sense that he chose the second hottest pepper on earth. The sign said the 'scorpion pepper' was the hottest and I finally managed to talk him out of that one, so he settled on the ghost variety. Trying to think like a 12 year old boy - whether I like peppers or not doesn't change the fact that it sounds way cool to say I grew a ghost pepper....one of the hottest peppers ever! I hope if they are prolific, we have friends who want them.
Yesterday and today I got my hands in the dirt...literally. I weeded, shoveled, turned soil and set plants. The point is that I did it all begrudgingly, in the beginning. All of it, the festival and the gardening. You see, it has always made my Father so proud to see me gardening. He comes from a farming family and I used to believe he was proud because I was continuing the practice (on a very small scale). Today, I think he was proud simply because he saw the joy and excitement gardening brought me. It was a topic we could talk about other than cars, and I loved those conversations. When I began gardening, Dad was the one who tilled my garden and helped me plant. As the years passed, I'd take him with me to purchase plants, usually from Conrad's in Bixby. Later, he would 'supervise' and give me helpful hints. I never planted the tomatoes far enough apart, and I never made the hills and straight lines he recommended. Still, he was proud. Last year, Dad was a little lost while Ethan, Nathan, the kids and I planted, but he still shared a bit of wisdom and enjoyed watching the action. Momma drove him over countless times to see my garden growing and every time I felt like a little kid, excited to see my parents so I could share my accomplishments with them. This year, my Daddy is not at home to enjoy my garden, thus, I dreaded even doing it.
Where is my Daddy?
My precious Daddy was admitted to a hospital unit for Seniors with dementia. He has been there several days now, and it has been a roller coaster ride for us all. Some days are good, some days are bad; I would not say any have been excellent. There are times that we are certain we have made the best decisions, and there are days we doubt every decision made. Again and again I say, Alzheimer's sucks.
We can only visit him one hour each day during his stay in the unit. One hour. My Momma is used to round the clock, 24 hour time with my dad. My sister, our spouses, our brother, these children of ours...their grandchildren...Daddy and his Alzheimer's are all a big part of our lives. One hour is difficult to say the least. In the beginning, it is restful. Then, as you begin to catch up on the rest- reality sets in. Reality that life has changed dramatically and that once more, a 'new normal' is occurring, with or without our permission.
Tomorrow is his 80th birthday. My Daddy. The Swahili. The tireman. The guy who plays the accordion beautifully and plays the melodies by ear. My Daddy who has always said he will live to 104. The man of great wisdom such as, 'if a frog had wings it wouldn't bump it's ass every time it tried to fly.' and 'I don't mind birthdays, they are better than the alternative'. My encourager. My Daddy who always smelled wonderfully clean and left the scent of his cologne on the leather of his truck steering wheel. My daddy with the grease stained hands. The fisherman. The helper. The maker of silly faces. My Daddy the hard worker (some might say workaholic). My Daddy who can whistle any tune and who always tried to see the bright side. My hard headed, stubborn, set in his ways, cuss at his broken lawn equipment, Daddy. The one who always filled Momma's car with gas, the one who protected, the one who really believes the best about his kids (but also knew the worst), the one who loves us with all he has. My Daddy who finds his God not inside of a church building but rather, in the great outdoors. And all he is was never perfect. Ever. It was though, absolutely real and just what I needed to be who I am (which has also never been perfect).
Tomorrow, April 21, 2014 is Daddy's 80th birthday. Tomorrow, we move this sweet Father of ours to his new home, a place designed just for those who need 'memory care'. Memory care. Memory care. Still processing the weight of the fact that this is where we are. This is bittersweet. I hope he loves it there, and I pray we are confident and at peace with decisions made.
My most recent visit with Daddy was two days ago. It was a really good visit, the most positive one I've had with him in a long time. He greeted me with a smile and a, "Hi, guy!" He introduced me to some of the staff as his beautiful son. I've been 'his son' for quite a while now, but not since his admission to the hospital. Somehow, there is sweet relief in being 'his son', or 'bud' once more.
We walked. We talked. I promised him that when I planted my garden this year, I would heed his advice and put the tomato plants a good distance apart, and in a line. He talked about tire gauges. We were holding two separate conversations and we were holding hands. As we circled the floor, we stopped so he could smile and speak to the same people he had spoken to a few moments earlier. He sought out a new patient who was very tearful, and he asked her what was wrong. She wept, and told him how she just wanted to go home. He placed his giant hand on her shoulder gently and said, "I have a sign in my store that says, 'if you think you can, you will.' He gave her shoulder an encouraging squeeze and we resumed our walk. I cherish that glimpse of my Daddy, he is in there somewhere, the Alzheimer's is just hiding him deeper every day.
I'm going to see my Daddy tomorrow. I will be sure and tell him Happy Birthday. I will let him know that I really did set the tomato plants a decent distance apart, although I could not bear to do hills...and I attempted to make straight lines. I will let him know that although I entered into my project begrudgingly, the dirt did it's therapy on me and I'm excited about my garden. I will tell him how deeply I love him and how thankful I am for him, and how I hurt for his hurt and am thankful for his life. I will tell him, thank you for simply being my Daddy.
I pray John, Stella and Nathan are able to see him too. I pray it is an EXCELLENT day.
Friday, April 4, 2014
tiny update
There is so very much I want to say. Countless words written on my heart that I long to share but I know deep inside of me that it's just not time yet. There will be a time. A time when Nathan and I will share our journey out loud for all to hear. A time when we will share how these sad times strengthened us somehow. I truly believe this. It has always been and will always be my prayer that our story is used to help others and to glorify the power of God. So....here we are, with some excellent content to add to our story and the opportunity to deepen the love in our legacy.
Right now we are mending brokenness. We are smack in the middle of restoration and healing....what a process it is. What a beautifully ugly process. I earnestly plea for your continued prayers. Nothing about life is 'easy' right now, and that's just the way it is. I am learning to look up, look in and reach out more than is in my comfort zone for sure. Some days...strength, grace and peace abound. Even on those days, unfortunate memories creep in and try to steal what is becoming with what was. Alas, I am reminded, WE ARE HERE. HE IS IN CHARGE. The past is exactly that, past, and the present is our gift. What will we do with it?
It's difficult...
My Daddy's days are getting rougher and rougher. It is almost the time that I didn't want to come. I love he and my Momma; it's a desperate feeling to know there is no earthly power to stop the progression of this terrible disease.. I am so sad and I am grasping for the lovely here. It is there, again, in words I am not ready to share. Alzheimer's - MEAN.
Sometimes I spend too much energy soaking in the fear. When I come to my senses, I picture myself snuggled up on God's lap. Held. I'm held. We are held.
With that sweet thought...may angels sing around us all as we slumber tonight.
Right now we are mending brokenness. We are smack in the middle of restoration and healing....what a process it is. What a beautifully ugly process. I earnestly plea for your continued prayers. Nothing about life is 'easy' right now, and that's just the way it is. I am learning to look up, look in and reach out more than is in my comfort zone for sure. Some days...strength, grace and peace abound. Even on those days, unfortunate memories creep in and try to steal what is becoming with what was. Alas, I am reminded, WE ARE HERE. HE IS IN CHARGE. The past is exactly that, past, and the present is our gift. What will we do with it?
It's difficult...
My Daddy's days are getting rougher and rougher. It is almost the time that I didn't want to come. I love he and my Momma; it's a desperate feeling to know there is no earthly power to stop the progression of this terrible disease.. I am so sad and I am grasping for the lovely here. It is there, again, in words I am not ready to share. Alzheimer's - MEAN.
Sometimes I spend too much energy soaking in the fear. When I come to my senses, I picture myself snuggled up on God's lap. Held. I'm held. We are held.
With that sweet thought...may angels sing around us all as we slumber tonight.
Friday, March 21, 2014
JOY
You know how life has a way of being overwhelming at times? I'm there. I am overwhelmed with life. OVERWHELMED.
What I find fascinating is what I am learning about me right now. One thing I am sure of...
I HAVE THE GIFT OF JOY.
It's a gift, truly. Joy....a gift from God. Different from happiness, happiness can be circumstantial. Joy and happy don't have to coexist. As a matter of fact, I can feel horribly disheartened but my heart still has joy. Joy...not a feeling but a heart gift.
A precious friend gave me a sweet present and card a few weeks ago. The words written in the card were "The Joy of the Lord is my strength." Ever since then, I have been hearing that phrase several times a day...in songs, in my Jesus Calling devotional, out of the Bible, from a friend...all beautiful reminders...."the Joy of the Lord IS my Strength."
How true that is. One day, when I look back at the ugliness and heartache of this era, I may wonder how I got through it. I will know that 'I' did not but 'WE' did. My God and me. The joy he gave me....not circumstantial, makes no sense in this moment yet my joy is clearly present. I am grateful for this gift of joy. It is irreplaceable.
What I find fascinating is what I am learning about me right now. One thing I am sure of...
I HAVE THE GIFT OF JOY.
It's a gift, truly. Joy....a gift from God. Different from happiness, happiness can be circumstantial. Joy and happy don't have to coexist. As a matter of fact, I can feel horribly disheartened but my heart still has joy. Joy...not a feeling but a heart gift.
A precious friend gave me a sweet present and card a few weeks ago. The words written in the card were "The Joy of the Lord is my strength." Ever since then, I have been hearing that phrase several times a day...in songs, in my Jesus Calling devotional, out of the Bible, from a friend...all beautiful reminders...."the Joy of the Lord IS my Strength."
How true that is. One day, when I look back at the ugliness and heartache of this era, I may wonder how I got through it. I will know that 'I' did not but 'WE' did. My God and me. The joy he gave me....not circumstantial, makes no sense in this moment yet my joy is clearly present. I am grateful for this gift of joy. It is irreplaceable.
Sunday, March 16, 2014
un-alone
I am 41 years old. I had this space in time set apart in my mind to be the beginning of some of the best years of my life. Currently though, I am caught up in a whirlwind of sanctity spun into insanity. I am in the eye of the hurricane. Un-alone but kind of lonely.
The last year and a half has been full of challenges, and I find myself proud to be up and functioning each day but frustrated that I'm not capable of focusing on all that I once did - not capable because my mind has been consumed by recent events and there is barely room in there for what is familiar. My heart aches for what is and for what was. Tonight I shared a bit of this with a group of friends so close to my heart I consider them family.
I was asked, "Sarah, do you feel capable of handling all that you have ahead of you?" My immediate answer was that I did not alone feel equipped. I added that I knew with God I was going to make it, I had no choice. I don't know what that looks like but it's just a step by step walk with Jesus. Learning once more to trust in the moment for I know not what is ahead. I only know I am held and that is more than enough to get me where I am going. But sometimes (a lot) I am human and I forget the how very un-alone I really am.
In the last year, I have grown closer to God than ever I have been. It's been a process in which I've become more dependent on Him in countless ways. I spend a good amount of time yelling at God for allowing things to happen and letting choices be made, devastating things, horrific choices. I have times of drowning in self pity, anger and self doubt. I have sobbed until my body shook and I have fallen asleep countless nights crying soundless tears. I am grieving for dreams lost. I am grieving for what I in mind for my forties.
Several months ago, I began praying in the shower each morning, singing to worship music and making sure I've turned it up loud enough to drown out my crying. (not always a success) I often am on my knees with my hands held high in praise or offering as the water cascades over me. It is a ritual of mine to 'give' my loved ones, my relationships and my day over to God daily. (I aim for daily). I ask him to help me be Jesus with skin on. These are my acts of worship. Sometimes they are full of joy and happy connection. Sometimes they are sorrowful. Sometimes in between. Always - I know I am being held.
So, there you go. In the times I forget I am un-alone, I sink right into the muck. In the times I remember I am un-alone, life can still be mucky, but it's way more beautiful. I am totally capable. In Him, with Him, through Him.....I am so much more than Sweet Sarah. I am a force to be reckoned with.
You'll see.
The last year and a half has been full of challenges, and I find myself proud to be up and functioning each day but frustrated that I'm not capable of focusing on all that I once did - not capable because my mind has been consumed by recent events and there is barely room in there for what is familiar. My heart aches for what is and for what was. Tonight I shared a bit of this with a group of friends so close to my heart I consider them family.
I was asked, "Sarah, do you feel capable of handling all that you have ahead of you?" My immediate answer was that I did not alone feel equipped. I added that I knew with God I was going to make it, I had no choice. I don't know what that looks like but it's just a step by step walk with Jesus. Learning once more to trust in the moment for I know not what is ahead. I only know I am held and that is more than enough to get me where I am going. But sometimes (a lot) I am human and I forget the how very un-alone I really am.
In the last year, I have grown closer to God than ever I have been. It's been a process in which I've become more dependent on Him in countless ways. I spend a good amount of time yelling at God for allowing things to happen and letting choices be made, devastating things, horrific choices. I have times of drowning in self pity, anger and self doubt. I have sobbed until my body shook and I have fallen asleep countless nights crying soundless tears. I am grieving for dreams lost. I am grieving for what I in mind for my forties.
Several months ago, I began praying in the shower each morning, singing to worship music and making sure I've turned it up loud enough to drown out my crying. (not always a success) I often am on my knees with my hands held high in praise or offering as the water cascades over me. It is a ritual of mine to 'give' my loved ones, my relationships and my day over to God daily. (I aim for daily). I ask him to help me be Jesus with skin on. These are my acts of worship. Sometimes they are full of joy and happy connection. Sometimes they are sorrowful. Sometimes in between. Always - I know I am being held.
So, there you go. In the times I forget I am un-alone, I sink right into the muck. In the times I remember I am un-alone, life can still be mucky, but it's way more beautiful. I am totally capable. In Him, with Him, through Him.....I am so much more than Sweet Sarah. I am a force to be reckoned with.
You'll see.
Sunday, March 2, 2014
missed opportunities and gratitude
Relationships, people and missed opportunities are on my heart and mind.
A sweet friend, fellow Momma, daughter and more passed away a couple of summers ago after a fluke accident. A few weeks before that happened, I saw her at church across the room. Her eyes looked so very sad and I thought to myself...call your friend and connect this week. I never did that.
My precious friend who passed away this week texted me the morning of his last day. I saw his text and was busy at work. I knew when I called him back I wanted to give the call/text my full attention. The day got busy and I had in the back of my mind to call. He passed away that night and I never did connect with him.
My texts, voicemails and emails are flooded with encouragement, prayers and wisdom from those who understand my heart and/or situation. I have been in such a fog and have every intention of responding individually, yet I have not yet done so. Today is a bit of a wake up call. My heart hurts and my prayers are going up. I am grateful for the opportunities I have had to have these dear friends in my life. I am sorrowful for the opportunities I have missed. There are many opportunities I have not missed and realizing this is a healing balm.
What do I want? Which direction am I going and who do I want to be on my journey with? My heart knows a little but not much. I know I know enough to believe that my God is with me every step of the way and He will light my journey.
This earthly life is truly but the blink of an eye. Once you choose, you have chosen.
A sweet friend, fellow Momma, daughter and more passed away a couple of summers ago after a fluke accident. A few weeks before that happened, I saw her at church across the room. Her eyes looked so very sad and I thought to myself...call your friend and connect this week. I never did that.
My precious friend who passed away this week texted me the morning of his last day. I saw his text and was busy at work. I knew when I called him back I wanted to give the call/text my full attention. The day got busy and I had in the back of my mind to call. He passed away that night and I never did connect with him.
My texts, voicemails and emails are flooded with encouragement, prayers and wisdom from those who understand my heart and/or situation. I have been in such a fog and have every intention of responding individually, yet I have not yet done so. Today is a bit of a wake up call. My heart hurts and my prayers are going up. I am grateful for the opportunities I have had to have these dear friends in my life. I am sorrowful for the opportunities I have missed. There are many opportunities I have not missed and realizing this is a healing balm.
What do I want? Which direction am I going and who do I want to be on my journey with? My heart knows a little but not much. I know I know enough to believe that my God is with me every step of the way and He will light my journey.
This earthly life is truly but the blink of an eye. Once you choose, you have chosen.
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