Category: experiences

Good grief!

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I promised myself I would not write another blog about grief without first writing about something else, because I don’t want to tire my readers with my sorrow.  But here I am.  Grief is a continual struggle.  It is what occupies even the deepest corner of my heart.  And so, I write some more.

I write for me. I write for those who cannot write.  I write for those who are so burdened and swallowed by their grief as they struggle to sort their emotions. And I write because I feel God leading me to.

No matter if you know me or not, I pray my blogs may be uplifting and encouraging.

Grief is a lonely road. Not everyone has lost someone dear to them, but of the ones who have, few offer much support.  Friends are to stand by you, through your darkest hours, through the most sorrowful and grief-stricken moments of your life.  Yet few do. They tend to run like the wind when they realize their friend’s cry is turning monotonous. And oh no, the tears! Nothing like tears to send people into a tizzy; people squirm in their seats, excuse themselves or evade you by frantically searching for a box of tissues.  But a friend, or simply someone who cares, should offer their time: willingly offer their shoulder for tears, their ears for listening and their mouth for encouragement.  Because soon enough, the tables will turn and they will be forced to walk the same lonely road as you. Continue reading “Good grief!” →

The Last Day of the Year

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On the last day of the year, most people reflect on the past twelve months.  We sift through things that went wrong and vow to change them.  We recollect events we’d rather have never experienced.  Or perhaps the memories are ones to cherish.

This past year was a rough year, a sad year.

On January 2, 2016, (I don’t remember exactly the context or reason, besides God had ordained it) I decided to spend the weekend at my parents’ house.  My dad really wanted to show my mom and me this area on Jack’s Mountain that was full of rhododendrons; so much so that it looked as if a jungle had been picked up and placed on a Pennsylvania mountainside.  Here on this hiking trail, marked some of the last and most cherished memories I have of my dad.  He made sure mom reminded me to bring my camera along so I could take pictures.  Little did I know they would be the last good pictures of him. (One of which we used on his obituary two-and-a-half months later.) Continue reading “The Last Day of the Year” →

First Christmas

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I survived my first Christmas.

My family is always up early so Christmas was no different.  Growing up, my dad always read the Christmas story from Luke before opening gifts and I always wanted to carry on that tradition with my family.

This Christmas my eyes swelled with tears as I read about Jesus’ birth.  It had much more meaning this year.  Not only was it something my dad always felt was most important, but this Christmas – his first ever – he didn’t read about it.  He was there.  His eyes could behold the glory of the Lord.  He was in the very presence of the Savior of the world.  Worshiping at His very feet.  Rejoicing in songs of adoration and praise.  Oh, what a day that will be, when my Jesus I shall see.  When I look upon His face – the One who saved me by His grace!

We attended our church’s morning service. What a blessing – to be in God’s house, praising Him with other believers on Christmas Day!

The day had moments of joy and laughter. And surprisingly there was a bit of sameness. But it was not without tears and sadness.  The day before, the day of, the day after.

A few of us were standing at my dad’s gravesite on Christmas Day.  My mom was earnestly sharing her heart when all the sudden she groaned in pain as a charlie horse threatened her leg.  My brother never missed a beat and immediately cracked a joke.  We burst out laughing of course.

To some this may seem odd or even inappropriate, but for our family this was perfect.  This was us. And this characterized my dad honestly. He had a dry sense of humor.  He loved to laugh and he loved to make others laugh as well.  He would want us to laugh, even at his gravesite.

The day was hard, but it was good, filled with caring people and amazing love.  There was joy and peace felt amidst the sorrow; it could only be by the grace of God.  Thank you to all who were praying (and have been praying) for our family!

Grief has a way of making you hold onto and appreciate your dear ones a bit more. It makes us realize that our futures aren’t as sure as we once thought.  God holds the future and only He knows who just had their last Christmas.  (Sobering reminder!) Continue reading “First Christmas” →

Burdened Beyond Belief

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If ever there was a passage in Scripture that has described a season in my life so perfectly, it is…

For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself.  Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death.  But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead.  He delivered us from such a deadly peril, and He will deliver us.  On Him we have set our hope that He will deliver us again.  2 Corinthians 1:8-10

The deepest of waters, that’s where I am swimming, or rather drowning. These waters are engulfing and suffocating. As Paul writes, “[I am] despaired of life itself,” I too feel there is no hope of rescue.  I cry out to God honestly and ungratefully, “Why have you thrown me into the deepest of waters?”

I have taken some extended vacations in the terribly dreadful island known as Depression.  I have run away from my Father, looking for a replacement. I have resided for many months in some pretty ugly, self-absorbing Resorts.  But this season does not compare.

I cannot figure out which is harder: losing my dad or muddling through raising three closely-aged boys, one of whom has a Sensory Processing Disorder (causing numerous out-of-control meltdowns each day, among other things), which I have yet to fully understand, let alone to figure out a way to help him. I have concluded neither my grief nor motherhood is easier, but together they are all-consuming.  They call me to the bottom of the ocean, beckoning me to give up and stop fighting, to drown in the deep waters.

I cannot rely on myself. Though I stubbornly try so hard, I just cannot do it.  I lack the wisdom, the strength, the grace. And on top of that, my dad was ripped away from me.  (Yes, that is how I feel some days.) I am weak and selfish. I am mentally and emotionally exhausted.

I have nothing left to give.

“Awesome!” God rejoices. Continue reading “Burdened Beyond Belief” →

Three Months

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Three months ago – it was also a Wednesday – God took my dad home to be with Him. I cannot believe it’s been three months, yet it feels oddly longer.

A watched pot never boils.

For thirty days we sat day after day in the hospital or by the phone, hanging on every word, watching my dad.  Waiting for anything – answers, a miracle, death, something. We had hope, we had false hope, we had dashed hope, and then we had death.  It felt like an eternity – just watching and waiting; unsure and unsettled about his future.  Since his death, the days have just passed by.  Time is the same – time never changes, but our view of it does.  We’ve stopped waiting.  Now that he’s gone we know he’s gone, and he’s not coming back.  There’s no more uncertainty, no more waiting.  We’ve been forced to stop hanging onto hope.  We’ve been forced to move on. To keep on living.

If you’ve ever watched a pot boil – just like the idiom – it feels like it never happens.  Yet the minute you walk away – get involved in something – not only has the water boiled, but it’s evaporated.  Those thirty days felt like forever as we waited to hear the prognosis on my dad’s future.  Yet these three months have slipped by.

The seconds tick s-l-o-w-l-y by as you put your whole focus on something, but as soon as you shift that focus onto something else, the seconds quickly become hours and days.

Life gets so busy, that we barely take time for each other, even the most important people.  I spent more time in the hospital with my dad in his last thirty days than I have in the last few years.  Had God not allowed dad to get sick and forced him (and us) to slow down and wait patiently, we would have missed so much irreplaceable time with him.

Upside Down

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Mondays always seem to be a tough day in our home.  Unfortunately yesterday felt like my whole world had been turned completely upside down.  Not necessarily over one big incident, yet everything seemed to be falling apart. A chicken with its head cut off – have you ever heard someone use that expression? It is crazy to watch!  The chicken keeps running around frantically, even after it has lost its head.  Its world – its life really – has just abruptly crashed down with one quick hack to the neck. Well, that picture seemed to describe my day yesterday. Not the losing its neck part, but the running around frantically, and perhaps the crashing down part.

Parenting is no joke!  But there’s nothing like a marriage, grief, or spiritual struggle, to make it even more difficult. The inner turmoil, hurt, feeling alone, confusion, worry; it left my head spinning. I was unsure of which way to turn or what to do – like a chicken with its head cut off.  Had God even heard my desperate and constant prayers?

The high-pitched screaming coming from my three-and-a-half-year-old was more than I could handle.  It pierced through my very soul and broke down any virtuousness left in me. As if his constant shrieking wasn’t enough, I was exhausted from having to play referee one more time to three little ones. And a weekend of little to no naps leaves a toddler a bit sulky. I’m not always quite sure the best way to handle these situations and I began to question my actions as a mother, and as a wife. My eyes were clouded with tears.  My voice was quivering.  It’s all too much.  Everything was just too much.  I was a disastrous mess inside.

As one child screamed upstairs in his room I collapsed on the floor into a ball of emotions.  God, where are You? Can’t you see I’m drowning here? I cannot do this on my own; I need You!  Please send someone or something to encourage me. Let me know You’re still here with me. Continue reading “Upside Down” →

I Choose God.

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Meltdowns, scream fests, arguing, fighting, frustration, anger, crying. Unfortunately, not all of these describe the behaviors of my three little boys. I have to take responsibility for some of them. It’s even quite possible that I experienced each one of these this week.

If there was ever a time in my life when I felt I must have fulfilled my earthly duty, it was yesterday. Heaven looked even more appealing to me than before. I had reached rock bottom. I had become more of a hindrance to those in my family than a help. I was a complete failure. There was nothing more I could offer and nothing positive in my life.

I would love to say, “…and then I woke up.” Unfortunately, it was not a dream. I was in the pit of selfishness and ungratefulness. How in the world did I get here? Continue reading “I Choose God.” →

The Truth Of Grief

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This was the hardest thing I have ever written.  Not only is it difficult to describe how one feels, but most of all to be so open and transparent with your deepest thoughts and feelings; to bear your very soul and expose it to the picking and prodding of judgmental eyes; to invite another into the most intimate and vulnerable place of your being. But, just maybe, sharing my story will help someone else in their journey of healing.

For those who do not know, two months ago today (April 20th) I lost my dad to a short-lived and very aggressive terminal illness.  Cancer.  I almost can’t say the word.  He only lived thirty days – all spent in the hospital – from the day he went into the emergency room until the day of his death.  He was diagnosed only three weeks before he died, with AML or Acute Myeloid Leukemia.  The night before he died we learned he had acquired the most aggressive and least treatable type of AML. Continue reading “The Truth Of Grief” →