Food for Thought

It's May, but you wouldn't know it by the chilly temps and weird weather patterns. Who ordered 35 degrees, the other day? The clouds, hovering over us, have blocked out much needed sunlight and disrupted our steady reliance on children's public television--my kids have become a broken record: "Mommy, the TV is scratching, again!" That's what we call it when the DVD's start pixelating on the big screen. Yes, we've had some better days, but who's complaining?

Then there is my least favorite time of the day: meal times. I have run out of ideas on what my children might refuse to eat, on any given day. Both are very different in their tastes and dislikes, making it hard to come up with choices that work for everyone. I refuse to be a short order cook, however. So this morning, I covered up my daughter's rejected peanut butter sandwich and orange slices, with a big bowl--vowing that she would have to eat it later, if she was, indeed, hungry. And sure enough, a few hours later, she reluctantly ate her sandwich--and then devoured two whole pears, cut in slices.

Yesterday, there was discussion on the color of water bottles and flatware. My son wanted the blue cup with the hammerhead sharks, swirling about. My daughter agreed to switch, since her brother had the orange cup: her favorite color. But then she took it a step further: "Mommy, I want the green fork. See, it matches the stripes on my shirt!" Oh bother...not only do we have to find the perfect food, but we also have to color-coordinate our utensils and dinnerware with our outfits! I hate to admit it, but I understand why McDonald's is just easier than arguing with them.

We are so ready for warm weather and a change of pace. I'm coming off the heels of a cyclical depression, from grief stuff. So glad that I decided to see someone about that, this time around. It has been good for me, and will continue to provide clarity to my situation. In the mean time, I just keep going with my routine, not allowing myself to wallow in the emotions of it all, for too long. I take the time I need, and then keep going. Some days, just crossing errands off my list is all I can do to feel like I accomplished something good, you know?

Aside from that, I keep dreaming. I know there are bigger things out there for me. It's a struggle to sort out the difference between enjoying the life you have from knowing that God has more in store for you. I suppose it depends on how you react to where you're at. Do I covet another person's success or complain about where I'm at? And then there's the fact that a depressed person will have a hard time enjoying much of anything, especially activities that normally do bring joy. This, no doubt, comes out of the grieving process(for me).

I love being a mom to my kids. I'm so thankful that I've had the opportunity to be here, with them, for the majority of their days, thus far. I like cooking. I don't like cooking, for them(LOL).I love writing. I do it for the pure pleasure that it brings, and because I need to do it, to feel alive. I love music. It is the avenue that lead me to God, and it is what I offer back up, to Him, in leading worship. I love the outdoors. I enjoy the creation that is all around us and marvel at the wonders of God's handiwork. I like that I can use plant material, through designs, to make a person's outdoor space, a beautiful one.

These are some of the things I love. I have to remind myself, because sometimes I forget. I'm learning how to love people better(aren't we all). How to better show love to my husband, my family. When I think of the blessings in my life, I don't have much to complain about. I'm thankful for the support I've received to carry me through this sadness. Isn't it amazing that we can always love better when we've spent some time with God? We love Him by taking that time--and then we, in turn, have the energy to love each other well. It's the kind of circulation I want in my life, keeping me from becoming indifferent and stagnant.

At night, when we pray with our kids, the one thing that we ask God for(above all else)is that our kids will love God and follow hard after Him. That they will give Him their hearts and lead a life that would be honoring to Him. We know that if they do this, everything else will fall into place--not a life of perfection or one that is free from trouble, but a life that is "in place".

I can learn something from the very prayers I cover my children with: if I love God, everything else will fall into place. I will hear his voice, discern his will, and have the courage to take some risks, discovering what the next chapter holds in this short life.

I guess maybe I need to trust Him more, like a child trusts their parents to take care of them. Even if kids don't like what is set before them, if they're hungry enough, they will eat--sooner or later. And when we've eaten all "the good stuff" that we're supposed to, there is always dessert: my personal favorite, being dark chocolate.

Reflections

As I'm sitting here, writing, it has occurred to me that its been about a year since I began this blog journey. I want to thank all of you who have supported me along the way. Thank you for taking the time to read some very real thoughts, regarding losses in my life. Thank you for your kind words and encouragement. It means a lot to me!

Going forward, I want to shift my focus toward more present day circumstances, and also toward the future. Our past is what it is. I feel that I've done the best that I could to present that in a way that would be honoring, and not overtly negative or 'a downer'. But now its time to move ahead. For those who are new to my story, here is a quick recap of where I've been and where I am now:

Last spring brought me through a season of depression that began in April, lasting until the end of June. I didn't see it coming. It started out with physical manifestations of anxiety: tightness in the chest, the feeling that something big was coming...but what it was, I didn't know, at the time. I began to realize the time of year that it was and the important dates that were coming: my son's birthday, Mother's Day, my daughter's birthday, then mom's anniversary. It began to make sense. I wasn't developing asthma,(which is how it felt most of the time), I was grieving, again.

Long story short, there was nothing seriously wrong with me, in medical terms. My body was trying to process these emotions out. It's rather strange when this happens without being consciously aware of it. These symptoms were present, and I wasn't thinking much about anything stressful, let alone my mom and her passing. But our minds and bodies are connected in such a way that everything works together. If I wasn't yet ready to deal with it mentally, I guess my body would find another way to get rid of the sadness.

When I look back on all that has happened, I am so glad that I was on 'emotional Novocaine' at the time. I'm trying to get my head around the scenario: my mom is diagnosed with cancer, shortly before I carried my son. She is still recovering, when he is born. Then it appears that she will make it, when he is about 5 months old...only to have a relapse and more cancer, 1 month later. She goes through intense treatments, radiation therapy, her body trying desperately to hold up under the pressures. Meanwhile, life continues to go on. I eventually carry my daughter, only to find out days before her delivery that my mom is terminally ill. There was nothing more, short of a miracle, that could be done. She meets our second child, and then passes away when my daughter was 4 weeks old, my son age two. What a whirlwind it was, and has been.

There was no way, physically speaking, that I could grieve what had happened until recently. My deliveries were both C-sections, my kids 2 years apart. You can imagine how much I needed my mom to be there for me...how much I had wanted her to be more connected to me, years before this season of parenthood began. Not that I didn't have support elsewhere, with amazing family and friends, but there is something about a mother and daughter that is special. I was so looking forward to redeeming that time, for us, with my own children coming into the world. But it was not meant to be. I may not know, until eternity, the answer to the question: why? But I trust the sovereignty of God in matters like these. I want to know God better, not run away further. So I choose to live, no matter how hard it can be at times.

I started this blog as a means to process out my emotions, my thoughts about what I was going through. It has served me well in that regard. The beauty of having this outlet is the transparency it lends to the lives of other people, who may very well find themselves in a similar situation. It is my hope that the pain our lives bring may not be wasted, but recycled into something beautiful...and useful.

Today, I am in another season of grief. I have experienced the physical affects, once again, although they are somewhat different this time around. I cry easily when watching sad movies--yes, even kids' movies! I've had 'heart flutters', tightness in the chest, and the general malaise that is associated with feeling depressed: kind of like you're walking around in fog, not able to think clearly or enjoy life.

It is not much fun. But what is different this time is I'm doing something about it. I've decided to start therapy(*applause*). I had my first session this week and to my surprise, I cried a lot. I guess that's what you do when you go to a session! No, but seriously, I'm glad to be moving in this direction. I'm keeping an open mind to the options I have for getting better. My goal is to have happy memories of my mom, and be present as the best mom I can be...the best woman that God has created me to be. I need to do that for my family, and for myself. I don't want to miss out on living life to its fullest. A friend once said, 'Choose to be better, not bitter.' So true.

Again, thank you, readers and listeners! May you live each day, reflecting the love that has been given to you. Mom, if you are listening, I love you and look forward to seeing you again someday.

More Than I Can Chew

Coming off the heels of February, I've been left with lingering thoughts of love on my mind. Not to mention, bags of candy and chocolate, safely tucked away from eager little hands. Although that doesn't stop little feet from climbing on counter tops to reach sweet treats. And we still have loads of snow, blanketing the countryside...its hard to believe that we are in March, with spring just around the bend.

It's been a long winter. We've watched more movies than I care to count. I've cried more times than I care to admit: how many times can one break down, when seeing the character 'Andy', play with his toys, one last time? I can't bear to watch it again. And then there's the floating house, carried to paradise by a bunch of balloons...who knew animation could create a love story that would go to such lengths to keep a promise. It gets you right in the chest, when you least expect it.

The anticipation of spring has me looking forward to getting outside, starting seeds for the garden, feeling the color green beneath my toes(no socks necessary!). It also has me gearing up for what could be another wave of grieving...for it will be 3 years now that my mom was beginning to exit this life for a better one. It's hard to believe that amount of time has gone by. So much has happened, and yet it seems like just yesterday that we were made aware of how sick she really was...and then just days later, our baby daughter entered this world.

Love has been on my mind. I'm learning about how much God loves me. It sounds rather trite, but I can't begin to put it into words...because I am human--and I cannot humanize a love as great as God Himself, embodies. There is much evidence around me to prove that I am cared for. Even in the midst of pain, I can see His hands, holding me--carrying me through. One of my struggles, in grieving my mom's loss, has been accepting her love for me. For many years, I didn't believe it. Too much had happened, and enough didn't happen--so that I felt otherwise.

We often give love in the way we'd like to receive it. When it doesn't come packaged the way we like it, sometimes we don't see it as love. There is a great book out there: 'The Five Love Languages'(by Gary Smalley) that goes into more detail about this concept. I've found it to be helpful in understanding the different ways people give and receive love. Reading through the scriptures, there is so much evidence of God's love for us. Even in crisis and loss, He is there. He has compassion on us and I do believe that all things work together for good if we love God and accept the purpose that He has for our lives. Even if I have yet to fully understand that purpose(Romans 8:28).

Sometimes all we can do is speak out loud what we know to be true. My favorite way to do this is through singing. Last Sunday, I was leading worship, along with several of the young at heart. We were all tired out from skiing the night before. (Troy and I like to tag along with the youth group and pretend our bodies are 15 years younger, as we navigate the slopes. The event has now been renamed 'NEFC Family Ski' instead of 'Youth Ski'. I guess there are others who also feel as young as we do!). Truly, we are excited to have many of the young people, at our church, share their talents with us. It is so much fun to play and sing with them. No matter how our practice time goes, early in the week, I am amazed at how God meets with us on Sunday morning. He can take a tired group of instruments(including vocals) and create such an amazing sound and energy!

While we were up there, a normally shy little boy was making his way up the main isle. He climbed up the steps, onto the stage, looking up at me with eyes that needed something. What could I do, with microphone in hand, except gesture him to sit down? Friends in the congregation started to gather around, trying to coax him away. Finally, his daddy saw what was happening, exited the sound booth, and retrieved our distraught son! It was cute. After we were done, I went back to our seat to sit with Adrian. I asked him what it was he needed: 'I want a piece of gum, mom!' *LAUGHTER* Every Sunday, after the singing is done, he gets a piece to keep him busy during the message. I guess he didn't want to wait this time.

There is a lesson here for me. I need to come boldly, before God. Not afraid to ask of Him what He already knows I need(Hebrews 4:16). I may not get it right away, but I know that He loves me and welcomes me as a parent would any child--open arms and all. And many times, what I need is not what I ask for. I'm learning to trust God, to walk with Him, and better understand His ways.

I received an amazing confirmation of love this morning. As I was having my coffee and some quiet time, my son wheeled through the room, on his 'motorcycle'. As he passed me by, I heard him say, "Mom, I love you." What was that? He passed by again..."Mommy, I love you." And followed that up with a smile...and a hug. I was already crying, before this--thinking about God's love, working through some stuff. And there He was, giving me a perfect demonstration of it. We have an awesome God, don't we?

It's All About Love

A friend once told me something quite profound: "There is no love like that between a parent and child." At the time, I didn't have children and could not comprehend what that might feel or look like. The only person I had to take care of was myself. Life sure does change. Now that I'm a mom, I have a better understanding of love--especially the sacrificial kind. We go out of our way to protect, nurture, and give our family what they need and want, don't we?

Then there are family members, friends, coworkers, a spouse or significant other. The way we love the people in our life is different, depending on how we know them. The deeper we go, the more difficult it can be, at times, to love them well. When you find yourself in the middle of a conflict with another, you might ask, "How do I show this person love?" Even when you think you've done it right, there can be misunderstandings and hurt feelings.

It is then that we have to go back to the source of love: our God. I might have some strength in me to love others, but that will eventually run out unless I tap into a greater power; a reality that I cannot get my head around. When I fall on my face, it is then that I realize my inability to do anything apart from Him. I think back to difficult times in my marriage, and remember wise friends telling me how I would only be able to love my husband, the way he needed me to, when I learned how to love God, first.

When we hold fast to God and his perfect love for us(as His children),we are then able to love each other better. There is a natural pull that is created, an attractiveness that comes from within. Have you noticed the magnetism a person can have, when they've spent some serious time with God? They have a radiance not to be rivaled by any beauty product out there. You want to be around them because they are enjoyable to be with. You want to know what they know.

Therein lies the mystery of love: tapping in to the One who will fill us up, only to be poured out, again and again. That love will draw people in and eventually point them to the Source who will never run out. I have to admit that at times, I feel burned out...spent, tired, ready to quit. That is a wake up call for me to get with God and be refilled. I'm glad that I do have those moments because it reminds me of my daily dependence on a person greater than me. I guess no matter how 'grown up' I become, I'll always be some body's kid, right?

Heartbreak

On my way to the blog, I stopped by the kitchen for a treat. I love those little dark chocolates, wrapped in foil, with a message inside. I don't buy them for the thoughts, but sometimes its fun to see what great wisdom can come out of added calories. Tonight's treat read this: 'Discover how much your heart can hold.' I'm not sure what that is supposed to mean, but in my experience you can find that out when your heart gets broken.

As mentioned previously, I've been attending a large group study for women. We're going through the book of Isaiah, finding out what it means to be free. This past week we studied heartbreak. Not my favorite reality to dive into, but one that all of us can relate to at some point in our lives. There were times that I had to stop, because the lesson book was getting wet. I thought to myself, "Really? This is still bothering me?" It seemed like I should be over this, by now. But I wasn't. I had let go; but it still hurts.

It would be more bearable, if it weren't for the fact that I've been experiencing several strained relationships, all at the same time. When I think about it too much, I feel the brokenness settling, right in the pit of my stomach. Not a good feeling. Could I have said this or that differently? What more can I do to reach out--when that person refuses to reach back? I've apologized...now what? I try to get in touch with another friend...and they won't call back. I still don't know what happened or why. These are the scenarios in my life lately.

And then, there is that one person who you are sure will never be replaced by another friend, no matter how great they are. It was a special relationship, a great connection. Life circumstances changed, and now its been several years since you've seen them. They are the kind of friend that you can pick up right where you left off...if only, you had the opportunity to see them again. These are heart-breaking moments. We don't get over them easily. We hold a special place in our hearts for these people who mean so much. Even if it means they will never reciprocate in the way we would like.

I believe that I'm entering into a new season these days. One called silence. It is rather odd to find oneself, sitting in a group, not having anything to say. Yes, I did the homework...all of it. Yes, I am processing the information. But I can't utter the words. They won't come. It's a good thing that I'm not called on, to say something. There are plenty of other people there, eager to share their thoughts...I used to be one of them. Now, I'm slowly becoming one of the quiet ones. How strange that is, for me. I am so much the extrovert, when in good company. I love people. They energize me, for the most part. But here, in this environment...I must be still.

For those who know me well, or maybe didn't want to put forth the effort--a quiet' me' may come as a relief to you. Humor me by laughing out loud *LOL* Yes, I can make fun of myself, too! It is incredibly hard for me sit still...and be quiet. At home, I am mostly quiet, but always moving, doing something. The closest I get to sitting still--while my eyes are opened--is when I'm having my computer time. Otherwise, it's a very hard thing for me to do. Having this study has forced me to carve out time to be still. And for that, I am grateful. I didn't realize how much I missed that until I picked up the habit, again.

Back to the heartbreak. I won't elaborate on the details of my own. It is what it is. I can't fix it, but I know who can. Anytime you've gone through a situation, there is always that person who tries to sympathize with you, make you feel better. But there's one problem: they haven't experienced the same hurt. They try, but the words they utter don't help, and they cannot truly understand what you've been through. How sweet it is when you find a friend who does know what it's like to go through this loss or that. Because they've been there, too.

My consolation in experiencing multiple heartbreaks, in my life, is that it may be used to cultivate a compassion for others like myself. And when I feel that there is no one who understands what I'm going through, I am aware that this is an opportunity to fellowship in the sufferings of the One who has experienced every hurt and rejection known to humanity. It sounds far-fetched, but just maybe--I might get to know God better through these difficult times. He is also the one who binds up the broken-hearted--bandaging the hurt, until it has the time it needs, to heal(Isaiah 61:1-3). How great it is that we can have someone who not only understands our hurts, but heals them, as well.

"Since ancient times, no one has heard, no ear has perceived, no one has seen any God besides you, who acts on behalf of those who wait for Him." (Isaiah 64:4)

No Expiration Date

Here we are, fresh into a new year! My tree is already taken down, ornaments gently put away for another 11 months. Looking back(over the last 6 weeks),Christmas is a special time of year. Once we get past eating our turkey and giving thanks, then I'm onto the decorating, with holiday CD's, playing in the background. The buzz of the music and glow of the lights, puts me in good spirits.

I enjoy every bit of this time of year. But a few days ago, I decided that I couldn't stand looking at those red stockings another minute: it all had to go. I normally wait until after New Year's Day, but since last Thursday was so rainy, I was home all day and thought, what the heck: might as well get a jump on it. It felt so good to have my living room back...well, almost. What I really did was make more room for all the new toys the kids have been playing with. They like them so much that they never get put away at the days' end.

As I was putting all the stuff away, it occurred to me why tradition is celebrated for a short time: it has limited shelf life. Kind of like that box from the store with a date stamped on the top: best if used by...the end of the year. I love Christmas and every thing it stands for. Yes, even Santa, and stockings hung adds a little sweetness to the mix. But in the aftermath of wrapping paper, and boxes that I can't throw away(because my son thinks they make good sheds for his tractors), I realize--once again--that all of this is temporary.

Maybe I'm one of those people who need the contrast of routine vs. celebration, to fully embrace what it means. How boring would life be if we never took a break from the dailies, and celebrated the reason we have life, in the first place? And yet, if we left our tree up all year long, it would cease to be special, lose its sparkle, and annoy me. Oh, but leaving outdoor lights up, through winter, is ok in Minnesota...if it isn't, then I'm one of those houses that will annoy drivers, passing by.

While we may grow tired of the holiday scene, it serves to remind us of what we have access to, every day of the year. It reminds us of the temporary nature of this earth, and the eternal satisfaction that comes with knowing the One who came to give us life. He is the only presence that has no expiration date. He always has been and always will be. He is the Everlasting One. And He is always more than enough. I cannot comprehend the nature of God, how He can be 3 persons, and yet one. But I've decided to get up, each day, and trust Him. No matter what comes, or how miserably I might fail, He is still God...and He is still here, every single day.

On the lighter side, Happy New Year, 2011! Isn't it great that we get to start a new length of time, putting a calendar in place, for all that will come? We don't know what the days ahead will bring, but I like that we are always changing, and co-authoring new chapters in our stories. Enjoy the year ahead, and make it a good one, one day at a time.

The Gift of Faith

I can't believe we are already in December. Kind of like, where did all this snow come from? We are in it, up to our knees, fluffy and white. Last weekend, 17 inches of it blew in, over the horizon, at the sound of 30 mph, all day and night. I looked out my window that Saturday morning, and all I could see was white out. No road, trees, or farm fields.

Being snowed in was all right by me. It's been awhile since we had a MN blizzard. I think the last time I even spoke the word, 'blizzard', was when a popular ice cream franchise had them on sale, last summer. I spent the day, inside, cleaning. The hard floors had collected their own little farm of dust bunnies, with the couch hiding the majority of them. In time, I had clean floors, and a mind that was trying to declutter, in the process of it all. Like piles of mail that needed sorting, so the thoughts in my head needed filing...and discarding.

Our budget was on the top pile of worries, for me. It's Christmas time, meaning extra shopping and gifts for the people in our lives. It's winter, meaning a slower pace, and less income. And it's me, the one who tries to balance it all...did I mention that math is not my best subject? For me, the most useful tool on the internet is online-banking. Without it, I would be completely lost.

In my support group, I shared some of these concerns. Call it a prayer request, because that's what it was. I needed the faith to believe that God would take care of this...take care, of us. My husband, calm person that he is, is not overly concerned. I admire his faith in believing God will provide extra jobs, even though it is winter. I'm thankful that he is so solid and peaceful, when I am at times, a little shaky.

Looking in the months ahead, it doesn't add up. On paper, the bottom line reads 'below zero', and I'm not talking about the temperatures here . Still, a chilly number, however you want to look at it. We've decided that eliminating our giving is not an option. In God's economy, this cannot come out of the equation. Don't ask me how it works this way, but it does. So here I am, more motivated than ever to cut our expenses...and then wait and see.

I am delighted to say God hears our prayers. He is always more than enough. Just days later, a check came in the mail. One that we were not expecting, from a place that we thought we had finished doing business with. I called the company, just to make sure this sizable amount was really ours. It was an overpayment that came back to us, at the perfect time. I said to my husband, holding the check, "This is God at work!" He agreed. I feel undeserving, so much of the time, because I know that all that we have is really His. And yet, I can't contain my excitement at how He works out the details of our lives, giving us just what we need.

The last couple of months, I've been in a study with a mixed group of women, from the local area. I love the fact that we go to different churches, and yet, there is a unity of spirit among us. I'm enjoying the homework, learning more about the God who knows me, inside and out. Isaiah 64:4 says, "Since ancient times no one has heard, no ear has perceived, no eye has seen any God besides you, who acts on behalf of those who wait for him."

That verse came alive for me, this week. Some thoughts I've considered: If my bible sits at rest, collecting dust bunnies, does that mean the words inside are dead? If I allow the cares in my head to go stir-crazy, with no place to go, does that mean there is no God of the universe, who won't hear my silent prayers? If I walk alone, in my struggles, how certain can I be that there are others out there, feeling the same way?

We are not alone. We have similar needs. To be loved, to be heard, to have a reason for living. God loves you more than you can imagine. So much, that He came in human form, walked among us for awhile, died for our freedom, and wants to live in our hearts, forever. I know this, but sometimes I forget, get distracted, or selfishly go my own way...for awhile. I'm glad that deep within, there is that whisper of a voice, calling me back.

I sincerely hope, for each one of you, that this will be a Christmas to remember. Maybe it's a hard year, ending with devastation and loss. Or it might be over the top, filled with much joy. For many of us, it can be business as usual, getting caught up in the traditions, the hustle 'n' bustle of the season. Wherever you find yourself this year, I pray that you are one step closer to the heartbeat of the Father. He is not too far away. And He does act on behalf of those who wait for Him.

Merry Christmas!