In a Matter Of Hours, It'll All Be Over...

...And they depart on the anniversary of my mom's death.

The question isn't, "Why this day?"  The question is, "Will You show me Your plan in the midst of this heart-wrenching weekend?"

...and the answer is a resounding, "YES, I Will."

Because He is faithful, I can trust Him.

Your Flight Is Boarding...

How many times have you sat on a plane and mindlessly watched as the attendant cheerfully told you the same thing she says to every passenger that's ever sat where you're sitting? We'd all much rather doze off!

"In case of a drop in cabin air pressure due to altitude increase or rapid decrease, your oxygen masks will drop down. Please be sure to put yours on FIRST before you attempt to help anyone else!"

Blah, blah, blah.  Do we really need to see this demonstration again?  

It would appear that such information is only necessary for a plane ride and we all know that the chances of crashing are 1 in 3.4 million of the 78 major world airlines!  So most likely,  no one is really interested in her little speech...and we've all heard it over and over again, right?

BUT what if that tidbit of advice could save our marriages, our relationships or the demon-possessed guy that decided to walk next to you as you entered a restaurant and he had about three conversations going, at once, with himself,  ABOUT YOUR BUTT AND HOW HE'S NOT BLACK...and on and on...?

When pressure begins to build, God has made a way for us to release it.  In the natural, it's called exhaling.  Our bodies rid us of the toxic gas, carbon dioxide.  But the only way to get rid of this toxicity is to breathe out.  Breathe in and breathe out.

Because we are a spirit, we breathe real LIFE through a connection to Him in his Word, 'realationships' that keep us accountable and encourage us as well as daily worship (not in that order and I am sure there are more 'oxygenating' ingredients like prayer, sharing Jesus and so forth'!).  
Without these 'elements' regenerating us, we are poisoned with lies, discouragement and hopelessness. The end results are devastating not only to ourselves, but to those we love.

But too many of us are holding our breath.  Why do we hold on to the last breath we took and expect that we can keep giving life to those around us?  It's just not possible. We must exhale and fill our lungs with fresh oxygen...because there is so much more to live for and it's all worth it.








As Jacob and Jenna drove off yesterday, I was swept away in emotion.  For five months we poured our lives into each other and though there were intense moments and conflicts, as there will be when seven people live together, we loved each other.  We celebrated together, cried and hugged often (maybe I did most of the crying...), graced one another every day and sometimes we didn't do too well, but God's Spirit breathed His life on our time together and it worked.

We adopted Jenna as a daughter and Norah as another grandbaby, this wee one that unraveled us daily with her exuberance for living in every moment, all the while verbally exclaiming, "I'm here.  Enjoy me.  I am a delight and joy!"  And she is!  

My lungs need fresh air to move forward.  I can't breathe as my fingers pound the keys and the tears trickle uncontrollably down my cheeks.

On this Monday before Thanksgiving, breathe deeply. This may be a tough year.  There may be memories of pain that would love to choke you, robbing you of a new season of joy.  Take a deep breath and ask the giving  God to breathe His Spirit on you...





This is my prayer as I wake each day now:

Lord Jesus, breathe Your life into my lungs so I can push forward to love ALL THOSE YOU SEND OUR WAY.  Help me THIS Thanksgiving as my family is scattered and I feel like pieces of me are in Florida, New York, upper Texas, Kentucky, South Carolina and Houston. Establish Your kingdom in each of these places, always keeping our hearts close, despite the distance.

As you soar towards this holiday, may He fill your lungs with His breathe and may His Spirit satisfy you. 

One day shy of a month...

 

 When a van pulled up in front of the our home that day, I questioned if 'this was the funeral parlor people' and 'how were they going to fit mom?" 
Two women entered and gave their condolences.  As tenderly as they could, they wheeled her out of the house and down the walk. 
Then, in a flash, they were gone.

One day shy of a month later, my dad drove away with my brother-in-law to begin the next adventure of his life.  How grateful I am for the three and a half years we had together.

But they're both gone.  No more puzzles, early dinners, daily jokes, conversations, rushing home because they were alone.  No more: "Stop wrestling, you'll upset gramma", "shhh, grampa is napping".  "Take the darts to the family room".

Boundaries that kept me on track with meals, cleaning, caring for their daily needs...are gone.

Boundaries:  borders that kept our life in sync with theirs.  Gone.

Is there a button to push that will release the emotions that I should be having?  Since his leaving, there have been none to speak of.  Perhaps,  by His grace and His timing, He (or maybe it's me that) will slowly allow the valve to open and tears will flow and I will be able to wrap my head and heart around what is happening.  But do I really want to push that button?

Today was my fifty-first birthday. I did not want a celebration.  NO CAKE.  I didn't mind it when the boys surprised me with a plate of cookies topped with a tea light to celebrate my day.  It actually blew me away. And having all the singing birthday calls was soooo special, my husband making subs and cooking a pizza, our son, Josh and his family lavish me with cards and a gift card to Half Price Books was delightful...but I just did not want to make a big deal about today.  I really don't even want to go down the road of asking, "Why not?"  Just not ready to let the valve be opened. 

Maybe we'll celebrate next year. 

Life just isn't the same.

Life is good.
Don't get me wrong. 
I love my life.
I love my family.
I love how closely God is holding me in His arms. 
I feel His nearness, especially when I fall off to sleep.  Mostly when I awake and raise my arms to the ceiling and tell him I love Him and I blow Him a kiss.  This has become a habit I wish I'd have started a LONG TIME AGO. 
I know He is walking through this with me.\
Yet, when it comes down to it, I have to decide if I am willing to let myself grieve...and WHAT DOES GRIEVING REALLY LOOK LIKE AND WHEN WILL IT BE OVER?

I'm really not too concerned with the answers as much as I am with knowing Him more intimately, because, when it's all over, He'll still be there, holding me. 
He'll never let me go. 
Ever.
Of this I am certain.

So, if I ramble...just let me.
I may contradict myself. 
Just laugh.
I'll get through this.

Love overcomes all pain

He cries daily.  

How does one take his mind off the obvious hole that cannot be filled since rolling over and touching her cool skin, running to turn on the light to see if it really is true? 

He mourns not waking in the night to kiss her just one more time, not giving her more flowers, the harsh words he used that week, saying, 'she's such a baby.' 

My heart aches for him.

That Friday, I took him to Lowes and we bought dirt. 

Lots of it. 

Just the week before, I'd gone to my sister's and gotten a bunch of rocks to make a garden and now I knew why. 

With emotions raw, we placed the rocks in the shape of a heart. 

This was for mom. 

A memorial to her. 

Dad cut into each bag with his keys and I poured each in a heap and kneeling, leveled the soil so we could plant each specific one we bought that she would like.

I knelt, tears blinding me. He stood, crying, and repeated, "Oh she would love this.  Right, Kathy?" 

When it was finished, I stood and we held each other and wept.  He placed the pinwheels all around because she LOVED them and would daily comment, "look how fast that one is going."

We left room for plants from her funeral service.  I've since put in three more plants.

It is beautiful. 

Like their love. 

Lasting almost fifty two years, overcoming the lie that they would have been better apart because she was so stubborn and he, an angry man.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and looked at the photos he'd taken of her. 

Then he would weep. 

Watching him grieve is heart wrenching, but he must. 

His best friend, gone forever. 

Never to make her toast with jelly.

Bring her tea.

Talk to her. 

Tell her he loves her.

He carries that phone with him everywhere...not to talk to anyone. 

Just to see her face.

It took four days before he would sleep in their bed. 

This is how I found him...

Only Jesus knows the depth of his pain. 

I can't fathom losing my best friend of thirty years.

Life is a breath.

Live intentionally.