Thursday, January 24, 2013

Two are better than one

He sat beside me in church.  Two hearts broken, kindred spirits in grief.  Not sharing much for over an hour, simply a pew and the same sense of sadness and loss.  At one point he simply slid the brochure to me.  Her picture was on the front and her whole life was summed up in a few short paragraphs on the inside pages.  A lump was in my throat and it was hard to even breathe as I tried to control my emotions.  I knew his pain as I poured over every feature of her face.  Her blue eyes met mine and I mourned her loss, his loss..and mine.  Silent tears ran down my face and settled salty inside my mouth. I started to take deep breaths and exhale through my nose.  Someone, somewhere, said that was suppose to be helpful.  I met my husband's eyes as he stood at the front pouring over the third chapter of  Hebrews. I heard him vaguely in the background teaching above the roaring in my ears.  It happens quite randomly..this crashing wave of emotions but when it comes, there is no escape.  You just ride it out.  We stare at each other across the room, quiet and yet speaking a thousand words that only the two of us understood in that moment. 

Once the service is over we remain in our seats as people move around us and we share where we are and how far we aren't....We talk about sleep and the lack thereof.  The irrational thinking and the deep pit of sadness. We talk about people that were a part of us, who gave us life... and somewhere in the middle of it all we relive their death. But somehow it's easier...because we are doing it together.  We laugh about how a song can be the phrase you remember they always said.  And how life seems so different and how it is not our life to do with as we please. He gently reminds me that we have given our lives to someone else and how quitting is not an option although it seems the most plausible choice. And I listen.. and occassionally lay my hand across his arm as a silent comfort of mutual understanding.  There is alot more to be said..but it will have to wait and we are both okay with that. We know there will be another time and that a heart can only hold so much at a time.  I went home having no idea what Hebrews Chapter 3 was about..and yet I knew that I had learned something biblical.  I had experienced something spiritual.  Something I needed and someone who needed me.

Friday, January 18, 2013

Finally Home

If you've stopped by lately and there are no new posts, I'm kinda out of the whole writing thing right now. My dad passed away December 28th and for me, the world has shifted off its axis.  Grief has moved in and set up shop and he and I are becoming acquainted.  I'm not fond of grief in the least.  It changes me and my normal.  It makes me have feelings and responses that normally would not be a part of my make-up.  But somehow, I know that we are in this together for the long haul. Exhaustion has set in..everything makes me on edge.  Anything can send me into a crying jag. I don't know what to do with myself and to be honest, I don't know how to let others do anything for me.  So I ask them to pray.  Because I know that Jesus knows what to do with all of me.  I don't even have the words to say to him..but the bible assures me that the holy spirit intervenes on my behalf.

In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. Romans 8:26 NIV

So, I'm feeling the need for quiet right now. 

Because everything else seems almost ridiculous.

Maybe forcing my self to do normal things will help eventually,

But for now, I long for peace.

I'm so excited to share with you that my Dad has found peace.  He is no longer fighting for his next breath, or wasting away his time in a dialysis chair.  His lungs are free of fluid.  I imagine he has taken up residence on the river of life that proceeds out of the throne of God...and if it's not breaking the rules, I bet he has a fishing pole he drops in between the chorus of holy, holy, holy.

What an honor it was, and yet the hardest task I've ever undertaken, to hold his hand and pray him all the way home. He had told me earlier that day "Let me die."  In essence, because of his surrender to Christ, he was actually asking to live....forever.

I'm hiding my self in the word.  It is asking me to do things that seem almost impossible...

Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy.
James 1:2 NLT

In this moment, I am not feeling any joy or even see any indication of joy on the horizon.

But I walk by faith and not by sight.  I believe God more than I do my feelings and I trust his promises.

Weeping may remain for a night, but joy comes in the morning. Psalms 30:5

Right now it seems dark in the world without my dad here.  But morning comes and he and I will walk hand in hand... because if he and my mom taught me anything...anything at all.. it was how to live to get where he is.

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