Breathing In Hope (as featured on A Widow's Might)

 

 

“What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined,
what God has prepared for those who love him"

1 Corinthians 2:9 ESV

None of us envisioned THIS as our future.

We didn’t walk our wedding aisle gazing at the pure love and joy on our groom’s face with thoughts that we would one day be widowed.

But THIS is where we are.

It is our “current”.

The pain is real and the grief is raw.

We cannot alter the circumstances that have brought us here. No matter how much we wish we could.  Time doesn’t flow in reverse.

There is a time to grieve. We cannot skip out on this.  We only harm ourselves if we try to rush the process.

Our loss was life shattering. Every single aspect of our world is now changed; every one of them, new.  This compounded loss that exists in each layer of us can plant seeds of fear.  Oh, we don’t necessarily recognize the little nagging thoughts as fear.  But it is there.

Fear we can’t possibly navigate this earth without the leadership of our husband manifests itself in constant thoughts of failure. If we aren’t careful, we can almost convince ourselves we are incapable without even attempting to accomplish something new.

Our fear of repeating a walk through such great loss causes us to hesitate in loving again.

Fear of the unknown nestles deep worry into our thoughts. Worry can begin to influence all processing in our brains, turning each situation into something potentially negative.  But we of all people should remember that this life is full of unknowns.  After all, we didn’t plan on being here, right?

What if it is time to come out from under the heaviness and start living again? Not living without the pain, but living around it.  Not erasing the memories, but cherishing them in their rightful place and looking ahead with expectation.

If you are not at this place yet, that’s okay. Do the work inside of your grief for now.  But, if you can honestly evaluate, and you are one who knows you should begin taking those bold steps forward, this writing is for you!

So which is it? Are you working through a healthy phase of grief, or are you stuck in grief because of fear?  Have you quit doing the work of sorting through grief and just settled in tight?  Are you stagnant in this life?

Friends, our God is anything but stagnant.
He is mighty and active.
He is alive and working.
He is NOT in the fear.  No, He is in the hope!

If these thoughts ring true within you, will you take time today to pray through your fears? Hand each one to God.  Name them and give them to the One who calms fears and offers hope.  Call on His mighty name with expectation of what He will do with your life.

Will there be unknowns?
Will there be things that seem too hard?
Will the newness at times be awkward to walk through?
I answer all of these with a resounding YES. But that “yes” is where hope lives.  It lives in the light that is revealed when fears are brought out of their darkness and surrendered.

Hope lives in the increased breaths as you contemplate that first step toward newness.
It resides in the accelerated heartbeat as you bravely walk into your future.
It is the combination of not knowing what comes next and the excitement of trusting that God will walk whatever path lies in your future with you.

Years ago, we had only dreams of beauty when we eagerly gazed upon our groom. Now we have lived more.  Pain has tinged our hearts edges.  What has happened, we cannot change.  We can choose to let that pain grow fear and leave us stagnant, or we can allow God to move us into a place of hope.

“What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined,
what God has prepared for those who love him"

1 Corinthians 2:9 ESV

None of us envisioned THIS as our future.
We didn’t walk our wedding aisle gazing at the pure love and joy on our groom’s face with thoughts that we would one day be widowed.
But THIS is where we are.
It is our “current”.
The pain is real and the grief is raw.
We cannot alter the circumstances that have brought us here. No matter how much we wish we could.  Time doesn’t flow in reverse.
There is a time to grieve. We cannot skip out on this.  We only harm ourselves if we try to rush the process.
Our loss was life shattering. Every single aspect of our world is now changed; every one of them, new.  This compounded loss that exists in each layer of us can plant seeds of fear.  Oh, we don’t necessarily recognize the little nagging thoughts as fear.  But it is there.
Fear we can’t possibly navigate this earth without the leadership of our husband manifests itself in constant thoughts of failure. If we aren’t careful, we can almost convince ourselves we are incapable without even attempting to accomplish something new.
Our fear of repeating a walk through such great loss causes us to hesitate in loving again.
Fear of the unknown nestles deep worry into our thoughts. Worry can begin to influence all processing in our brains, turning each situation into something potentially negative.  But we of all people should remember that this life is full of unknowns.  After all, we didn’t plan on being here, right?
What if it is time to come out from under the heaviness and start living again? Not living without the pain, but living around it.  Not erasing the memories, but cherishing them in their rightful place and looking ahead with expectation.
If you are not at this place yet, that’s okay. Do the work inside of your grief for now.  But, if you can honestly evaluate, and you are one who knows you should begin taking those bold steps forward, this writing is for you!
So which is it? Are you working through a healthy phase of grief, or are you stuck in grief because of fear?  Have you quit doing the work of sorting through grief and just settled in tight?  Are you stagnant in this life?
Friends, our God is anything but stagnant.
He is mighty and active.
He is alive and working.
He is NOT in the fear.  No, He is in the hope!
If these thoughts ring true within you, will you take time today to pray through your fears? Hand each one to God.  Name them and give them to the One who calms fears and offers hope.  Call on His mighty name with expectation of what He will do with your life.
Will there be unknowns?
Will there be things that seem too hard?
Will the newness at times be awkward to walk through?
I answer all of these with a resounding YES. But that “yes” is where hope lives.  It lives in the light that is revealed when fears are brought out of their darkness and surrendered.

Hope lives in the increased breaths as you contemplate that first step toward newness.
It resides in the accelerated heartbeat as you bravely walk into your future.
It is the combination of not knowing what comes next and the excitement of trusting that God will walk whatever path lies in your future with you.

Years ago, we had only dreams of beauty when we eagerly gazed upon our groom. Now we have lived more.  Pain has tinged our hearts edges.  What has happened, we cannot change.  We can choose to let that pain grow fear and leave us stagnant, or we can allow God to move us into a place of hope.

His Birthday

Tomorrow would be his 48th brithday.

It's the third time we have faced this day without him by our side.

The weirdest thing is that the sun rises and falls each day just the same as always.  At first, I was baffled the entire earth didn't abruptly halt its rotation when he breathed his last breath.  OUR world froze in place, but life around us continued.  Calendars flip months, and years progress.

Our every reality was so altered by the loss of Tim, that we have spent the past few years fighting through slow motion for each opportunity to feel the sunshine on our faces.  Some months all we could feel were rain drops and hail stones when we mustered the courage to lift our faces upward.  Other days, we were incapable of even lifting our heads to check for any rays the sun might be spilling our way.  There have also been moments of fresh air breathed in deeply and precious hope.  Those are the moments that have carried us through the monotony of this life. 

I never could have dreamed how difficult this journey would be for our children and me.  The emotions are not containable at times.  They simply are not.  Tears flow.  Anger rages.  Misery settles.  But I do a disservice to God if I don't also admit that there are positive emotions present too. 

Joy dances.  Peace swirls.  Love settles.  Strength embodies.

We crave more than to just live.  We desire to do more than simply exist "trying not to die", we long to be more than survivors.  We want to shatter expectations and stereotypes of young widows and fatherless children.

We are more intently looking for the sun to wash us with its warmth. 

We are looking for the Son to wash us in His warmth.

I wonder.  Do the saints celebrate the day of their earthly birth?  Probably not, but we will always remember April 3rd as his day. 

Happy Birthday, Babe!  You are loved.  You are remembered.  You are appreciated.  Your life mattered and your legacy lives on.  We are accepting the new mercies of God with each sunrise.  We are thinking of and missing you with each sunset.  We are digging deep to follow your example of taking the next right step, making the next right decision, choosing the next right thing.  I would be lying if I said we are not eager to be with you again.  The missing is so deep, the loss felt in every fiber.  But we are deliberately choosing to live this life to the fullest in honor of your memory and to bring glory to God.  Our God has been ever faithful.  Our God has never once left our side in the darkness of this battle.  Our God is our strength, He is our stability.  He alone causes the sun to rise each morning and we are grateful to Him for your life and the time we were blessed to have you; we are grateful for each day He gives us.  We will view them as the gift that they are and be intentional in our living. 

It Is What It Is (as featured on A Widow's Might)

 

 

“I have been crucified with Christ. 

It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. 

And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God,

who loved me and gave himself for me.” ~Galatians 2:20 ESV

It was what he said.
Time and time again.
When the diagnosis first came, “Lori, it is what it is.”
When the treatments failed, “It is what it is, Babe.”
When death approached, “It is what it is.”
It was never about giving up. It was always about our inability to change the circumstances.
It was never about a lack of faith. Quite the opposite, it was always about knowing that whatever lied ahead, God was already there.
The words have rattled around in this widow’s brain since he first uttered them to me– such wisdom in the middle of tremendous pain. So much confusion for us both, and yet he possessed a complete dependence on the One who was in control, surrendering.

Surrendering…
to the Lord who knows our difficulties and leads the way.
to the One who is trustworthy and faithful.
to the God who never asked us to understand, but did call us to believe.

I watched it play out right before my eyes. “It is what it is.”
This husband of mine and his clinging to God, regardless of what was thrown at him; it left me speechless.
His searching for and finding God’s perfect peace in the midst of chaotic suffering was a humbling and gorgeous process to witness.
The example of full surrender to God’s plan, even when it meant acknowledging the loss of every single shattered dream, every selfish desire, and every personal plan is something of which I still stand in awe.
“It Is What It Is” was moment-by-moment surrender in the heat of the battle.
When Tim’s final cancer war began, we were desperately crying out to God, pleading for earthly healing. Somewhere along the way, our prayers changed to reflect more surrender in our hearts. We found a new level of acceptance that this life ultimately is not in our control.  It simply is what it is.
Now I stand on the other side of the trauma of his death. Facing new challenges, different pain, and unique depths of frustration, I have a choice.  Thankfully, that choice comes on the heels of God’s proven faithfulness.
And so, this life as a widowed woman raising children through adolescence and into adulthood is mine to view as a blessing.
I cannot change the events that took my husband from this earth and left me as the sole earthly parent to our children.
I cannot change our loss, but I can choose my response to it.

I can remember the Lord who knows our difficulties and leads the way.
I can lean into the One who is trustworthy and faithful.
I can fully rely on the God who never asks me to understand, but does call me to believe.

My faith tells me that no matter what lies ahead of me, God is already there. He is preparing the way.
It is what it is
and
He is who He is.



Lord, I surrender to Your will. Use all of this for Your glory.  This loss and my finding how to survive the other side of it isn’t the path I would have chosen, but I trust You to be working in it for my good. Amen.






- See more at: http://anewseason.net/author/loris/#sthash.NjTBPSMT.dpuf