Wife, Mother, Daughter, Sister, Friend

It would be helpful if the world could just stop for a day or a week (or a year!) when your heart is shattered by the news that one of the children you birthed into this world has suddenly left it.

But it doesn’t.

And immediately all the roles I have played for decades are overlaid by a new role:  bereaved mother.  Except instead of being definitive or even descriptive, this role is more like a foggy blanket that obscures and disorients me as I struggle to fulfill all the roles to which I’ve become accustomed.

Now I’m a bereaved mother AND 

  • wife,
  • mother to surviving siblings,
  • daughter,
  • sister,
  • friend.

In addition to all the challenges those various roles represent, I have a new challenge: 

How can I be the person I need to be for the ones I love when I’m barely able to be any kind of person at all?  How do I encourage THEM when I have to give myself a pep talk just to get out of the bed?  How do I navigate my own emotional landmines and help them navigate theirs so we all arrive safely on the other side of birthdays, holidays and special occasions?

I have to admit that I have. absolutely. no. idea.

I’m trying.  I don’t give up (although I want to!).  I keep showing up and having conversations (even some that are one-sided as I take the brunt of another’s emotional explosion).  I try to be a middleman and get first one person’s perspective and then another’s-negotiating for common ground and some kind of compromise.

But it often backfires.

No matter how hard I work at it, I can’t please everyone.  And the problem with being seen as the negotiator is that if things don’t turn out well, you are the scapegoat too.

I’ll be honest.  There have been more than a few days this past month I wanted to crawl up in the bed, pull the covers over my head and not answer the door or the phone.

After nearly five years of this, I’m worn down, worn out, feeling sick, feeling incompetent and feeling like no matter how hard I try it really doesn’t matter. 

I know it’s not true.  

But it feels that way.  

And it takes another giant bolus of energy I don’t really have to drag my butt out of the bed, make a list, make phone calls, do the things that need doing and then show up, smiling, to whatever event is next. 

Because that’s what wives, mothers, daughters, sisters and friends do.  

hope whispers blinding light

Repost: Of Flying Geese and Calling Courage!

Every autumn I hear the geese overhead and I think about how all that honking serves only a single purpose:  to remind the stragglers they are headed in the right direction.  

It speaks courage to my own heart as I remember that not only does the leader call out to those behind, but that each bird takes a turn at the head of the line so that the others can rest a bit.  

What  beautiful picture of how life SHOULD be.  

Read the rest here:  Of Flying Geese and Calling Courage!

Life Is Hard: Speak Courage To Struggling Hearts

We all know those folks-the ones who have a kind word, quick smile and warm hug for everyone they meet.

And we all know the other type-the ones that suck the oxygen out of the room when they walk in and effectively dim any spark of hope a heart might be trying to fan into flame.

I want to be the former, not the latter.  

I want to be a light bearer, not a candle snuffer.  

In fact,  this has become my anthem since Dominic left for Heaven. I cannot bear to think I’m heaping weight onto an already burdened soul.

A smile, a kind word, an outstretched hand may be exactly what a hurting heart needs that minute to keep holding onto hope.

And how many of us are just about to let go at any given minute?

So much of the New Testament is about perseverance. Who needs to persevere if life is full of rainbows and unicorns?

No.

Perseverance is needed for trial and hardship.   

My guess is that if you’re reading this, you know about both. 

So I pray that the Lord will send someone each day to encourage YOUR heart.  

And, being strengthened yourself, you will pass it on.  

Life is hard. Most of the time I wanted a participation ribbon just for living through another day. We don’t give each other enough credit for hanging in there during tough times, and we often criticize more than we comfort. Can you imagine what our world would look like if we spent more time encouraging people who are making it against all odds instead of criticizing them?

Paul told us to ‘encourage one another and build each other up’ (1 Thessalonians 5:11). … While God in His infinite wisdom and timing does choose to deliver some of us quickly, many of us spend years persevering before we find freedom and healing for our wounds.

~Esther Fleece, No More Faking Fine

Hollow Words

We don’t mean to speak words that echo like a whistle in an empty auditorium.

But we do.

We open our mouths and pour out platitudes because that’s what’s been poured into us.

But we need to stop.  We need to listen.   

And then we need to respond to the heart that stands before us and not to our need to shut down and shut up and shut out another person’s pain.

compassion and stay with youIt’s hard to choose compassion.  It’s hard to lean in and listen well.  It’s hard to let our hearts get all tangled up with someone else’s when we could just walk away.

I am well aware that you have a life of your own full of drama, daily duties and demands.  I don’t want to drain you dry. 

Truly.

But I might need just a moment of your time and a bit of your courage to make it through my own darkness and despair.

One word.

One REAL word.

“I’m sorry.  That is awful.”

“I hate that you have this heavy burden.”

“How can I pray for you?”

“I don’t know what to say, but I want you to know I’m here and not going anywhere.”

 

fluent in silence

 

[Dis]couraged

We talk a lot about encouragement and we should.

Because coming alongside and speaking courage to a heart that wants to give up and give in is one of the most beautiful things in the world.

It’s a big part of why I write-my daily prayer is that the words I send into space land just where God wants them to and that somewhere, somehow a heart is made stronger.

But life is full of discouragement.  

Sometimes it’s a phone call that brings news of a “no” when you were longing for “yes”.

Sometimes it’s finding out that there is more month than money.

Sometimes it’s a friend that doesn’t remember your birthday or anniversary or some other important date and you’re left with no one to celebrate that milestone.

Sometimes it’s the scale registering PLUS two pounds when you’ve been so, so careful to eat well and exercise all week long.

And sometimes it’s more serious than that-a diagnosis, a pink slip (do they do that anymore?), an argument with your child or spouse or parent.  

One of the things I’m learning in this Valley is that I am not immune to the myriad afflictions of life on Planet Earth.  I don’t get a pass just because I buried a child.  I have to trudge through the muck and mire of the everyday just like anyone else.

CryingWoman

And while my heart is much better at sorting the truly important from the barely mentionable, there are still many, many days when I feel sad and discouraged and it has nothing to do with Dominic’s not being here.  

This week I’ve battled increased and uncontrollable pain due to my RA.  I don’t know any other way to describe it except to say that if it keeps me from going outside and doing things, it’s at least an 8/10 on that stupid scale they use at the doctor’s office.

Some routine blood work showed a couple areas we need to watch.  Yippee!  More doctors’ appointments and more needle sticks.

I’m resigned to the fact that I cannot change any of this.  I’m not morose or without hope, but I will admit my heart is faltering just a bit.  

I preach truth to myself.  I know that in the end all will be made new and right and I won’t even care about the measly 70 or 80 years I spent down here.

think of eternity and live backwards from that

But sometimes I’m just plain tired. 

I’m tired of fighting against the barrage of everyday joy suckers.  

I confess.  I’m discouraged.  ❤

eeyore plain

 

 

Repost: Courage is a Heart Word

A conspiracy of silence forces those who are suffering to hide.  It creates huge gaps between what goes on behind closed doors and public image.

And it causes those who are wounded to question the authenticity of their own experience.

I will tell my story because even though it is hardit matters.  And even though it hurts, it can help heal another.  And even though it isn’t finished, it can blaze a trail for others to follow.

Read the rest here:  Courage is a Heart Word

 

 

 

 

 

Here’s The Post I’ve Wanted To Write But Couldn’t Before Today

My husband was sued for discrimination by a disgruntled employee. The whole thing started heating up just after Dominic ran ahead to Heaven in 2014.  The suit was filed just before Christmas 2015.

We’ve been living with this awful thing hanging over our heads for nearly 3 years.  Thankfully, the truth prevailed and my husband was exonerated.

But it took a huge toll on both of us and on our whole family.

I sat in a courtroom a few days ago feeling nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

I was waiting for a verdict that had the potential to change the rest of my life but I could not muster a single feeling.

Because when you’ve watched your child’s body lowered beneath the ground, there’s really not much else the world can do to you.

I stared straight ahead as the jury walked in.  I didn’t dare hope that they had found in our favor.  I’ve learned that hoping for the best sometimes only hurts a heart worse in the end.  Better to expect absolutely nothing and then if you get a tiny something, it feels huge.

In agonizing slow motion, the long verdict form was read.

The first question offered a sliver of hope.

But we had to wait thirty more minutes for the hope to be confirmed.

It was oh, so slow and very frustrating as the jury was polled, mistakes in counting were made, recounts were required but finally the numbers were recorded and everything was squared away.

Now on to the individual verdict form.  Was my husband going to be held accountable for something he simply did not do?  Was there still a shred of justice in this world?  Could 12 strangers sift through three weeks of complex and often conflicting testimony and get down to the truth?

Yes!

They could and they did!

We both let out the breath we’d been holding and managed a tiny smile.

Twenty-one days in court, nearly three years with this lawsuit dangling like Damocles’ sword over our heads-over in the short minutes it took to read the verdict.

This trial has cost me more tears than I thought I had left.

Every legal pad pulled out of leather brief cases was a reminder that Dominic should be here with us, guiding us, reassuring us that he was on our side and no matter how things turned out there would be ways to make it right.

legal-yellow-pad_5

I cannot adequately express the toll this season has taken on my soul.  

But I am overjoyed that the Lord saw fit to reach down and assure the victory.  

If you see me on the street I might look a little dazed.  It’s hard to accept something good has happened when all you’ve come to expect is something bad.  So it may take me a few days to grow into an expression that reflects the beauty of the gift.

Bear with me. 

I am so, so thankful.

Thankful for every prayer raised, for every encouraging text, message, email and card.

And thankful most of all for the absolute assurance that no matter what I may face in this life, not only is God with me, but you are with me as well. 

It’s easy to be courageous when there are so many faithful friends standing behind you.  

Thank you.  ❤

when anxiety was strong