Category: Starting Over

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No Jumping

Have I not commanded thee?  Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.  Joshua 1:9 KJV

I have just returned from a quick weekend trip to the beach.  It is November and I live on the East Coast, so a trip to the beach this time of year is not considered “in season”.  All of the arcades and ice cream shops are closed up tight.  The beach is mostly deserted, with lonely cold waves rolling into shore, but no one to jump in them.  The outdoor pool at the hotel has been winterized and covered for the cold winter months.  As I looked out onto the barren pool deck with the gray pool cover drawn tightly over the pool, I was drawn to a little oasis in the middle of the deck.  It was a beautiful spot of landscaping amidst the stark bleakness of the late fall landscaping and empty pool deck.

As I looked at this landscape oasis complete with palm trees and bright flowers, I saw a sign which read, “No jumping”.  A quick glance around explained the sign–It makes sense that in-season, this oasis is very near the outdoor pool and an adventurer could probably envision a climb to the not-too-high-edge for a jump into the pool nearby.  A miss on this adventure would definitely result in injury.  However, as I looked at the sign and the beautiful landscaping that surrounds the sign, I started thinking about life and how this little oasis reminds me of life. Isn’t it common that we get to a beautiful place and just park ourselves to enjoy the view?  We erect a sign in our hearts that says, “No jumping”.  We have taken the adventure to arrive at the location and now we don’t want to move.

I think about the journey I’ve been on for going on five years.  I’m tired.  I have reached the other side – at least I think I have.  “No jumping!”  While at first, the self-imposed “no jumping” may seem okay.  I just want to sit back and relax.  Enjoy the view.  But, the “no jumping”  keeps me in the safe zone, not trying anything that stretches me.  Very comfortable.  When I am in this “no jumping” zone, I’m relying on me and what I can see and do for myself.  God isn’t required as much in the “no jumping” zone.

God wants us to enjoy the view and find joy in the journey, but He also wants us to keep going.  So, as much as I hate to leave this spot, I know God doesn’t want me to stay here.  He wants me to jump – into His arms, into His plan for me, into life, into joy.  He wants me to take Him on the journey.

So, if you find yourself in the little oasis, next to the “no jumping” sign.  Sit for a minute.  Have a spirit of thankfulness.  Rest. Rejuvenate.  Then, pick yourself up and “jump” into the plan the Master has for you.  It’s going to be great!  It always is!  Even in trials, God turns it to joy!

So, jump with me!  There are many sisters along the way to support you and encourage you.  Don’t be afraid to jump – it’s a good thing!

Dear Lord,  Thank You for allowing me moments in a beautiful oasis where I can rest and stay.  Thank You, also, for encouraging me to “jump” into Your arms and Your plan for my life.  Amen

Archive:  Originally posted on awidowsmight.org in November 2015

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One

But let us, who are of the day, be sober, putting on the breastplate of faith and love; and for a helmet, the hope of salvation.  For God hath not appointed us to wrath, but to obtain salvation by our Lord Jesus Christ.

1 Thessalonians 5:8-9

The Power of – One –  is such a lonely number.

This phrase has been dancing through my head for a while now.

The Power of One…the One…Jesus Christ.

One is such a lonely number.  Me…alone…by myself.

As I type this article, it has been thirty-one days since I dropped my only daughter off for her freshman year of college.  She is a four hour drive from our home.  I have shared with you her Senior year of high school, my preparation for the big drop off at college and even the events of the drop off day.

Now, I’ve had thirty-one days on my own, for the first time since 1993 when I was married to her father.  Just me.

I’m happy and settling into this new phase of my life.  I am going room by room and cleaning out.  I have started to intentionally eat healthier and have convenience food delivered to me that will help me with weight loss too.  I am going to the gym and working out with a friend.

Cristina, my daughter, has settled in so beautifully at college.  I know, in her heart, she is making a home there and she’s happy and making great friends and doing well!

I share all of this to point out that I have intentionally changed my mindset from one of loss to one of new opportunities.  If I look back on where I’ve been and who has been in my life and focus on what I’ve lost, that is a dark, lonely corridor that I don’t want to be in, and is devoid of Hope.  Instead, I look to the One and ask Him what opportunities He has for me in this new phase.

I don’t label myself as a widow or single mother.  I am a child of God.  I am not broken or “less-than”, just waiting for anything.  God has something for me right now.  I am still a work in progress that calls on His Grace and Mercy every moment of every day; and I struggle with a myriad of things that He and I are working on together for His Glory.  I am still here, so I still have a purpose.

As I look back over my life and all of the growth that God has allowed in my life in the past 20+ years, it is amazing.  I have endured things that I would never have asked for had I been able to see as I was going into the storm, and I would never have thought I would survive.  But by clinging to the Power of One – the One, I have not only survived, but I have thrived.  I laugh more than cry; I am filled with joy, contentment, and gratitude.

So, even though one is such a lonely number, the Power of One always wins.  I encourage you to focus on the Power of One – the One – and keep your mind from thinking that one is a lonely number.  God can do a lot with one when you are surrendered and looking to the One.

Dear Lord, Please help me to continue looking to You – the One – for my hope and contentment.  Thank You for loving me and growing me.  Amen

Archive:  originally posted on awidowsmight.org in October 2015

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Change Brings Possibilities

Behold, I will do a new thing, now it shall spring forth; shall you not know it? I will even make a road in the wilderness andrivers in the desert.  Isaiah 43:19 NKJV

As I sit here typing this article, it is the day after Thanksgiving and I’m still stuffed from our meal.  My daughter picked the menu – turkey, ham, macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes and gravy, stuffing, green bean casserole, broccoli casserole and dinner rolls.  It is the same menu we have every year.  We have set aside tomorrow to decorate the tree and house – inside and out…just like we do every year.  We have tickets to our town’s First Baptist Church Living Christmas Tree program…just like we do every year.

After my husband died, all of our family – except me – seemed to find comfort in maintaining as much as possible exactly what we did when he was alive.  The same traditions in the same places at the same point on the calendar.  As I participated, I watched the relief in their faces as we stayed the course, continued the traditions.  They seemed to need to do it the same way.

For me, participating in these same activities was excruciating.  At the same family gatherings, where we sat in the same chairs, I was next to the empty one.  As I cooked the same menu items for the same people, I was preparing this meal alone and the person who used to sit at the head of our table when we entertained was no longer there.  Decorating the house was hard because the person who used to lead us and allow us to be the helpers was no longer here.

Everywhere I looked, I longed for change or at least transition.  As my first birthday without my husband came and went, I was devastated.  For the first time in my life, I was older than my husband ever was and everyone still wanted to celebrate in a similar manner, “like we always do”.  The first Christmas after my husband died, I insisted my daughter and I go to Disney World for Christmas.  She was excited until we got on the plane and then cried.  I got severe food poisoning on Christmas day in a lonely hotel in the “happiest place on earth”.

It wasn’t until I started praying about the pain I was feeling at all of these traditions that God so lovingly shared with me what I now find very comforting.  Everything changes.  Puppies grow into dogs.  Kittens grow into cats.  Babies grow into adults.  Trees and flowers lose their leaves in the winter and then bloom again in the spring.  The water running through stream beds is always changing.  The granules of sand on the beach are constantly changing with each brush of a wave.  Nothing stays the same.

When we accept Christ as our Savior, we are given a new birth; a new heart; new life.  We are changed.  As we grow in Christ, we are changed.  Our relationships with others are constantly changing based on our shared experiences.

So, it seems we are fooling ourselves with our little “traditions”.  Even those change each year.  The weather may be different; people gathered together may be different; we are different because we have experienced 12 months of life since the last time we carried out the tradition.  When you really examine things very closely, the only constant is Christ.  He is stable, our beacon, our true North.  Everything else changes.

When I realize that, I am comforted.  This new life without my husband is another change.  Not one I wanted, but it is what I have nonetheless.  So, I can rail at how different my life is now, or embrace the change and look to Christ for my stability.

I can be open to doing things a little differently so I can continue to grow and change and I don’t have to be uncomfortable with change.  With change, comes new life, and with new life, comes new possibilities.  I am still here and God has a specific plan for me and it is going to be a new life with new possibilities.

Dear Lord, Change is often hard and I am so thankful that You are constant and steady.  Thank You, Lord, for helping me to see that even though change is hard; new things can come.  Thank You, Lord, for your patience and love.  Amen

Archive:  Originally posted on awidowsmight.org in January 2015

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There Are No Do-Overs

 

I have a secret to tell…I am selfish, controlling, and I’m not always happy.  Phew!  I got that out!  Now, for an explanation…

But the tongue can no man tame; it is an unruly evil, full of deadly poison.  Therewith bless we God, even the Father; and therewith curse we men, which are made after the likeness of God.  Out of the same mouth proceedeth blessing and cursing.  My brethren, these things ought not so to be- James 3:8-10 KJV

I am almost four years into this grief journey, and as I type this article I am preparing for this ministry’s upcoming November 2014 conference in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.  I will be co-presenting on the topics of Dating and Courage.  Then, I will be speaking at our Love Lights ceremony about grieving with hope and being open to God’s new calling in our lives.

As I march into the days and hours leading up to the conference, I have been bombarded with flashbacks of terrible moments at the end of my husband’s life; the moments where I did not use my tongue to God’s glory.  Those moments are moments I wish I could erase.  The things I said and decisions I made were made in my flesh, thinking I had more time.

Several days before what would be Bill’s death, we were in the transplant wing and it was getting late so I was preparing to leave to go to the hotel for the night.  Bill asked me to spend the night in his room.  On the transplant wing, you cannot use the patient’s bathroom or their bedding.  There is no comfortable place to lie down in the room, and any time you have to use the restroom you have to leave the wing. Then, to come back, you have to go through a series of doors and a hand-washing station to enter again.  I had been on caregiver watch for several weeks, had been at the hospital since before breakfast, and I was very tired.  I told him I needed to go home, so I could re-fuel and come back to love on him the next day.  I thought we’d have “tomorrow”.  I never slept with my husband again; nor did I ever wake up near him again.

The last conversation I had with my husband was in ICU on Friday, February 11, 2011.  He had just had his breathing tube removed and his voice was raspy.  He was lucid for the first time in days, and his medical team was talking about taking him back up to the transplant wing.  There was a lot of hope in that ICU cubical that day.  Bill’s best friend from work and two other friends were visiting us, and they had travelled a long distance to visit him.  Bill wanted just me and kept saying to me, “I love you; I love you; I love you” and holding tightly to my hands and pulling me close and kissing me – over and over again.  I felt the pull of his friends wanting time with him and I told him I would see him soon and gave some of my time to them…I would never have another conversation with him again.

I am not looking back when I share these moments (and there are many more).  I am simply sharing lessons with you.  Do not take the present moment for granted.  Love like you don’t have tomorrow.  Forgive as though your life depends on it.  Share as though you are the only resource available.  Speak with love.  Once the moment is over, you will regret it if you didn’t handle it with grace and love.  There are no do-overs.  Satan uses these moments to attack me and stunt my grief journey.  I have to call on my sisters and brothers in Christ to carry me when I am attacked with these moments.

God is good and He sustains me, through the Holy Spirit who strengthens and comforts me. Prayer supports me.  I can, through Christ, move past these memories and into the Truth.  Bill knows I loved him and knows that in both of those moments; I made the correct choice with the information I had at the time.  Bill has forgiven and, in Heaven, he has forgotten those moments and is busy worshipping his Savior.  That thought helps to remind me that I need to be busy about the Lord’s work here.  If I sit and think on these moments that I could have handled better, I am looking back and not moving forward.  If I am busy about the Lord’s work, then I am moving forward and thinking about my Savior; not regrets, memories, and what ifs.

Sweet Father,   Thank You for reminding me to look to You when the memories of what ifs come to mind.  Thank You for Your Grace and Mercy and for Your Word which sustains me.  Thank You for my brothers and sisters in Christ who continue to point me to You.  I love You, Lord!  In Jesus name, Amen

Archive:  Originally posted on awidowsmight.org in November 2014

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It’s Ok, Heart…Beat Again

 

Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.   Matthew 11:28 KJV

Several weeks ago, Karen Emberlin posted an article called, “Is Your Heart Broken – Tell It To Beat Again.” As I read it, I gasped, realizing God was using my dear sister, Karen, to minister to me.  I was married in 2006 to a wonderful man named Bill Rickard.  He made my heart flutter every time I thought of him.   As I walked him Home, I grew to love him more than I have ever loved any other human(except my daughter of course).  I grew to understand the love Christ has for me in that He was willing to die for me.  That’s the kind of love I felt for Bill.  I felt his heart beating in my chest and he felt mine in his.

When Bill died, my heart was not merely broken, I felt it was removed from me.  I was a walking zombie with no feeling.  In time, God allowed me to grow a renewed heart.  One that feels the beats and breaths of my Savior.  I was in tune with my Maker, in love with Him.

For three years, I completely shut down the woman side of me. I concentrated on just healing and growing a renewed heart, one that loves my friends, family and daughter,  growing closer every day to my Savior.  At the three-year anniversary of Bill’s death – Valentine’s Day 2014 – I began to feel that this renewed heart was no longer closed off.  It could possibly love a man again.  I began  praying to my Savior, asking  if these feelings were from Him.  His answer, I felt, was yes.  So, in May 2014, I decided to enter the dating pool again.

I hadn’t been on a date since 2003. A lot has changed in eleven years.  I went on several  dates with a lot of Mr. “Wrong-for-me’s”.  I cut players often, filling my dance card with new names.  Lots of dinners and movies filled my life.  I was getting tired, becoming very lonely in the process.  The more people I met – the wrong people -the more I missed Bill.  At each “interview” I found myself comparing to my “gold standard”…and all came up lacking.

I began deleting my online profile from sites I was on, ending my subscriptions.  I needed to take a break to see if God still wanted me out and dating.  During this time frame, I met someone with whom I accepted a date invitation.  Venturing into the dating pool with the full intention of sharing your life with, and, more importantly, your heart with, brought up an issue that I didn’t realize existed.  All along, I was growing this renewed heart, but I had forgotten the most important thing: to tell it to beat again.  It is ok for me to consider loving someone again.  My heart doesn’t have to move Bill out, to make room for a new person.  I now realize I have mourned the loss of my marriage and that special relationship.  When I see Bill again in Heaven, it will be as a brother/sister relationship. Our friendship will be rekindled.  So, here in this world, this side of heaven, it’s ok to love again…to tell my heart to beat again.  What a wonderful freedom to know that I don’t love Bill less; my heart is just growing bigger.  This new person will get a woman with a bigger heart because I was loved so well by Bill.  I can remember fun times with Bill.  This does not diminish the love I may have for someone else.  It simply enhances it.

It’s scary to think about loving again.

What if I give my heart and God takes him home before me?

What if I get hurt?

What if I finally lean back and he’s not there?

God lovingly whispers to me, “I’m here and I will never leave you, nor forsake you.  Are you willing to forego one day of joy in a loving, God-glorifying relationship because you are not promised tomorrow?  Do you want to live with a heart open to love; but refusing to love because you might not have it for more than one day?  Tell your heart to beat again…tell your heart it’s ok…tell your heart I created it for more than this…love again.   Put down this last weight.  While you grasp it, your hands are not open to the blessings I have for you.  Put it down; open your arms wide and walk with your face up looking into the sunshine.  Tell your heart to beat again.”

So, I am doing just that…sweet, renewed heart…it’s time…please beat again.

I feel it…slow beats at first and, with each breath, picking up speed.

Heart, beat again, be open to love.  Lord, fill my heart as only You can.

We are not promised tomorrow.  We are not promised an easy life in Him.  We are promised a place of rest in Him.  Heart…beat again.

Dear Lord, I am so humbled by You and how You work in my life.  I am putting down this weight and I am trusting in You to keep my heart beating in You.  I love You, Lord, and I thank you for never leaving me.  I thank you for renewing my heart and for making it possible for me to love again.  Thank you, Lord, for my beating, renewed heart.  Amen

Archive:  Originally posted on awidowsmight.org in October 2014

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Get Up – Stay In The Game

 

And when the fowls came down upon the carcasses, Abram drove them away.  Genesis 15:17 KJV  [Please read Genesis 15:1-17]

This article came out of a great conversation with another writer on this team.  We were talking about how easy it is to be sad.  I hasten to add that it is necessary and expected that you should feel sadness during your grief journey, especially early on in the journey.  However, as you walk this path, the unbearable sadness should wane and you should choose to live well.  [Author’s Note:  There are times when medication is needed to help people get through because of a clinical condition and, in those times, one should seek medical advice and adhere to that advice.]

My daughter has played field hockey for the last four years.  This game is the perfect combination of feminism and strength.  In my experience, these female athletes are girlie girls.  Before the warm ups and games, everyone is getting their hair braided with pink ribbons.  Even their uniforms are kilts.  Then the game begins and to play correctly, you have to have strength and endurance and you have to fight for the ball.

During the game, sometimes the sticks of the opposing players hit each other which causes their knuckles to “clang” against the opponents sticks.  This feels, from your hand to your elbow, like a tuning fork after it is hit…a numbing throb…it hurts.  Field hockey game clocks don’t stop, so you have to play on.  You will see these girls continue running and flinging their hand in the air to make the throbbing stop until they have full control of their fingers again.  The player keeps going and just shakes it off and the game continues.

As I think about this particular injury, it is much like the grief walk.  You are hurt and it throbs through your body.  You can just let the throb go on and on and do nothing, or you can push through and shake yourself and tell yourself to go on.   It’s hard and you get tired; but you have to push through that…have endurance.  You have to make yourself stay in the game.   You have to keep on, keepin’ on.  You can’t wallow in this.  You have to shake yourself and get back up and keep going.  God has this; but you are called to do some of the work.  Just like in the verses of Genesis 15:1-17.  God wanted to bless Abrahm; but Abrahm had to drive away the birds.  God could have done it Himself; but he called Abrahm to do his part.

So, what are you called to do.  You are asked to get up each day; eat healthy; exercise; and keep on going.  If you are doing well; everything else falls into place.  If you have children; they will follow your lead.  You have to do your part.  That is different for each person.  It feels good sometimes to be the saddest person in the room; but that is not healthy, nor does it Glorify Christ.

What if you haven’t been doing that?  What if you have fallen into the habit of being sad, and it is not a clinical condition or early in your grief journey?  Do better – starting now!  Pledge to yourself and your Savior that tomorrow will be a better day…and DO IT!  Get up and meditate on God’s word; make yourself smile; brush your teeth; make a doctor’s appointment; wear clothes that make you feel pretty; fix your hair (or get a haircut); get a manicure; listen to music that makes you smile; pick one area of your life and make it orderly.    Every day, add another thing and before you know it; you will feel better.

You have to stay in the game and you are called to do your part.  You want your life to honor Christ and to honor the life of your husband.  Would he want you to lay in bed and cry all day?  Would he want you to withdraw from life?  The answer is NO!  Smile and shine your husband’s testimony – honor the life he lived by living well.  Honor the life Christ has given you by living well for Him.

This all sounds easy, but it’s not.  You have to start with your head and your thoughts and then you have to take action.  You can do this!  Shake it off!  Stay in the game!

Dear Lord, Thank You for placing people in my life to remind me to stay in the game.  Thank You for loving me through this.  I will do better and I will purpose to glorify You in my life.  Amen.

Archive:  Originally posted on awidowsmight.org in October 2014

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We Are More Than Conquerors!

with Cristina DiMascio

“In all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us.  For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” ~Romans 8:37-39

My Pastor sent me a question as Mother’s Day approached.  His question was, “What makes you feel defeated as a mother?”  I had never thought so pointedly about this question.  But now I was.  The answer: I felt defeated when my sweet daughter experienced heart-exploding pain when her step-dad passed away.  The man who filled the “daddy” spot in her heart for years was now gone.

Recently, I was cleaning out a storage bin used to put all of my daughter’s school work in.  She is 17, so it was filled to overflowing, as you can imagine, and not everything was museum-worthy.  My daughter, Cristina, was 14 when my husband passed away.  He had been sick for over four years at that point.  I found a beautiful story she had written when she was probably 12 or 13 years old called, “The Miracle”.

People always thought Cristina was my husband’s biological child, not his stepdaughter.  He loved her wholly as though she had his blood running through her veins.  He was her father, daddy, papa; she just spelled those sentiments:  B-I-L-L.  They had so much fun together and he was a strict disciplinarian, in love, with her too.

My daughter has been very quiet since Bill’s death.  She doesn’t want to talk about it to anyone.  It has just been in the last year that she will even remember fun times out loud with others, even me.  She seems to be doing OK – everyone handles this grief journey differently.

As I read through her story, my heart felt the defeated feeling I feel whenever I realize I can’t shield her from pain in this life.  I can only point her to the Comforter and Healer in Christ as her Savior.

Here is her story – written in her words with no changes (when she was about 11 or 12):

The Miracle

By Cristina DiMascio

Once upon a time, there was a family – a mom, a stepdad, a girl, a dog, another dog, and a cat.  The stepdad got sick.  At first, the family thought it was mild, but then it got worse.  The family took the stepdad to the doctor, then the hospital, where they waited for hours.  The next 2 days were bad and the stepdad got worse.  The family took the stepdad to the hospital again, where he got lots of visitors.  Also, he stayed there for 3 days.  For the next few days, the stepdad got worse and worse and every day the mom went up to see him.  Then one day, when the doctors thought they could do nothing , the girl prayed her hardest (harder than she ever had before).  The doctors came in a few hours later to check the machines and they were great.  They told the mom and girl that he could go home the next day.  They were a happy family again.  THE END

This was an actual account of one of my husband’s many hospital visits.  As I sat reading this again, three years after the death of my husband, I was struck by the childlike faith that oozed from the page.  She loved her stepdad and prayed harder than she ever had before and he was healed.  This was true for the short term, but his disease would progress and viciously steal his earthly life from him.

I felt defeated as a mom as I read this.  This story had a happy ending, joy because he could go home the next day, healed and “they were a happy family again”.  Why couldn’t I give her this ending forever, or at least until her stepdad had reached old age and they had made many more memories together?

Christ came alongside me as my thoughts were in this dark place to remind me He heard her prayer.  She wanted her stepdad to be healed and strong and no longer ill.  Christ gave her the desires of her heart.  Because of our short-sightedness, we assumed healing meant something else.   Don’t misunderstand me, Christ is fully capable of permanent earthly healing and could have performed that kind of miracle in this case.  But instead, Christ wanted us to grow our childish faith into a more mature Christian faith and in order to do that, He needed Bill in Heaven and us, as close to Him as possible.

We have the wonderful assurance of a home in Heaven.  We know that we will see Bill again and it will be a grand reunion for all of us.  Cristina has a compassion that she would never have known had she not experienced this grief.  She wants to be a physician’s assistant in Oncology, helping others go through what she has gone through and give them hope.  God shines brightly in her.

So, I am not defeated. In Christ, I am a victor and I have, through Christ as my Savior, won the victory.  A miracle has occurred.  In our brokenness, Christ has ministered to many.  May His light continue to shine brightly in us.

Dear Lord, My heart hurts when I think about the pain my child has experienced in the loss of her stepdad.  I feel defeated.  I thank You, Lord, for helping me to remember that you have already won the victory and that I just must trust in You and defeat goes away and victory is in its place.  Amen

Archive:  Originally posted on awidowsmight.org in May 2014

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I Am Mara

And she said unto them, Call me not Naomi, call me Mara; for the Almighty hath dealt very bitterly with me.  Ruth 1:20 KJV

I am Mara!

I try to laugh every day and try to keep my negativity from getting the best of me.  When someone has an idea (including me), I have the ability within moments to (in my head) come up with several reasons that idea should never see the light of day.  When I hear news (good or bad), I immediately have several thoughts about how the good can turn bad and the bad can turn to worse.  I fight it all day, every day.  The only way I can combat my natural tendency to do this is to think of at least one positive thing for each negative thing that comes to mind.  Over the years of making myself do this; I have been able to turn the tide of my natural tendency towards bitterness into a studied habit of positive thoughts and actions.

Widowhood has not made this natural tendency towards bitterness easier.  Bitterness is an emotion that I fight against almost every day since my Bill’s home-going, or promotion, as I like to call it.  Some days it just seeps from my pours and during others it is a shadow in the room of my life that I can refuse to step into.

On the days it seeps from me, I find myself just wanting to wallow in my anger and pick fights on innocent victims.  People who are driving on the road with me…my pets…my daughter…my friends.  Thankfully, these days are few and far between.

I am three years down this road called Grief.  I still have days of sadness and loneliness, that make me bitter sometimes.  I wanted to walk this journey fast and get through it and be healed and move on.  I don’t want to take time and wait.  I want to be loved again.  I want to go to a restaurant and ask for a table for two in a quiet corner to just spend time with someone special.  I want back-up when I have to discipline my teenager – a voice louder than mine that reminds her to “respect your mother and my wife”.  I want to go on vacation and let my left hand drop from my lounge chair by the pool only to be caught by a strong, right hand and held.  I am bitter…Mara.

Then my loving Savior whispers into my heart, “I am here and I love you!”   I am reminded that Christ chose me; not at my best, but my worst.  He died for me for the sole purpose that I could spend eternity with Him because He wants me.

For some strange reason, He needs me to walk this journey.  He doesn’t want me to be sad, angry or bitter.  He wants me to take those emotions off like heavy coats and leave them with Him.  He wants me to lean on Him for being wholly loved; to discipline my daughter and know He will lovingly guide her because she has Him in her heart too; and to walk the beach while on vacation sharing time with Him.

When I lean on Him, everything just seems to fall into focus.  My loneliness slips away; my sadness diminishes; my heart is full; peace is with me; contentment is part of my wardrobe; and everything is ok.  I am even ok with being asked to walk this journey and some days, people see Christ in me and say I am inspiring.  (I know this is not me, but Christ in me.)

These are the days when that bitterness is a shadow that I don’t step into.  These are the days when Mara is not my name.  These are the days that I am surrendered and lay my head down at night feeling accomplished in Christ with a smile on my face.

I’m not there yet, but I am still on the road.  And it is on this road that I am finding that Mara is getting further and further behind me and the name Joy is one I wear when I am surrendered and Christ is shining through me.

I cannot encourage you enough to leave Mara behind and choose to be Joy.  Mara is a season, not a destination.  Joy is a destination that we are all working towards.

Dear Lord, I am so thankful that You allow me to have my Mara moments and love me through them.  I am so thankful that You love me through those moments and bring me into Joy-filled moments.  I cannot think of a more fulfilling love than the love I have in You.  Thank You for being with me on this journey and may I have more Joy moments in You.  I love You!  Amen

Archive:  Originally posted on awidowsmight.org in May 2014

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Take Your Mark

I do all this for the sake of the gospel, that I may share in its blessings.  Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. – 1 Corinthians 9:23-25

Have you ever seen a swim meet?

At the start of the race, the swimmer steps onto the starting block and bends over in the starting position.  You can almost feel the muscles full of energy poised, ready to race.  The silence of the crowd as they hold their breath and wait for the starting signal to sound is palpable.

Have you ever seen a false start?  Everyone in the entire pool area is waiting for the start signal and one (or more sometimes) takes off before the signal.  The release of breath from those present is almost like a gasp.  The swimmer takes off down the length of the pool only to realize the race has not started.  They gave their all and it wasn’t time to race…yet.  They have to make their way back and climb out of the pool, shake off the excess water, get their head in the right place, and take their mark again.  The entire energy of the area is changed as the swimmers again take their mark.

Think about the training involved for the swimmer to get to the point of being ready for the race.  They have to do hours of repetitive strokes, perfecting their timing, the angle of their arms as they slice through the water, their turn at each end of the pool lane.  It takes a coach who sees the end potential to push the swimmer beyond what they think they can do.  It also involves conditioning.  Swimmers have to run and lift weights too.  They have to eat right and sleep right and have their thoughts on the end goal – competing and winning their race.

So, back to the swim meet.  The swimmer has put the work in.  The coach has put the work in.  The swimmer puts his earphones in his ears to hear the song that gets him in the zone and waits for his heat to be called.  Now, they get to the competition and they are ready to go and the crowd kicks in.  The family is there screaming encouragement.  He is ready!

I think this grieving journey is like that.  We are called to walk this path – it’s our pool.  We have many false starts and have to get back to our starting place and try again.  God puts “coaches” along the way to teach us; work with us; beckon to us to keep on “swimming”; people who sense God’s calling in our life.  We are asked to lift heavy things that in the long run grow us and make us stronger to handle heavier things further in our race.  We listen to music that inspires us and read scriptures that feed us.  We have a Heavenly Father that gives us proper rest.  Then, as we prepare to swim our race, we hear our friends and family screaming encouragement from all around the pool area; whether it is a heartfelt prayer on our behalf, an encouraging phone call or an invitation to dinner.  Their enthusiasm that we can win this race keeps us going.  When we have the false starts, it is what gets us back to the poolside and back on the starting block.

God has specifically and lovingly chosen us for this race.  He doesn’t want us to experience grief, but He knows that we will be able to help others if we have walked a similar path and He can use our hands and feet to comfort others.  He won’t leave us and He will prepare us along the way.

Dear Lord, Thank you for choosing me to glorify You.  I don’t see the strength that you see in me.  I submit to Your Will, my loving Father.  I know You will give me what I need and You will be with me as I run the race that You have set before me.  I love you, Father, and with Your help I will finish this race.  Amen

Archive:  Originally posted on awidowsmight.org in April 2014