Year Two in Review and Year Three Ahead

Photo Courtesy of Trish Scott
Sweetberry Photography

 

Most days I step boldly forward in this life and find secure footing as the kids and I navigate our way into a new kind of beautiful life.

Most days.

But some days…

Some days, I take that step and find nothing but air beneath my feet.  I free fall.  Spinning wildly, gasping for air, and wondering what will break my fall.

While the bad days are farther apart now, they still arrive ferociously and unexpectedly, leaving me faced flat on the ground, a bit dazed, and quietly whimpering the name “Jesus”.

Medical memories flood me, nestling in the forefront as if set to constant replay on the big screen of my mind. 

His battle.

The days away from our children turning too quickly into weeks and then months; we blink and it has been two years consumed with medical treatments.  The IV’s, tests, scans, exams that violate, radiation masks, chemotherapy ports, too many surgeries to count; they are horrors that can never be erased from my existence. 

His constant suffering plagues my thoughts.

My continual juggling of roles.  I remember with pride the honor of fulfilling my wedding vows to this man, “to love and to cherish, in sickness and in health”.  The privilege of being a mother to his children.  The two separate responsibilities are so tightly interwoven, existing out of the deepest love for my family.

It’s all there.  The guilt over being away from my children coupled with the joy of serving my husband by rarely leaving his side in the battle.  The traumatic memories of medical horrors I can find no words to describe and the comfort of the love we shared that somehow only deepened through the journey.

I remember someone telling me that missing him would be harder than walking beside him as he awaited death.  I thought they were crazy.  I needed them to be crazy.  The pain of anticipating his death was excruciating.  Having to ensure I was the first one in the door from school carpool so I could protect a child from being the one to find their Daddy’s unresponsive body somewhere in our home was exhausting.  Holding my own breath to listen for his staggered breathing throughout each night would cause heart palpitations.  I am experiencing them even as I type this.

Then, he died.

And someone dared tell me year one would be hard but year two would be hell on earth.  I needed them to be a liar.  I couldn’t fathom pain more intense than each “first” ticking off the calendar.  I thought “well, maybe for them, but we have been living with the stress of death for a few years, so we are probably further along in our grief journey than most.”

I’m not here to say that losing a loved one to a terminal illness is harder than receiving a state trooper knock on the door with notification they have passed away.  This isn’t a competition!  It is all hard.  It is all painful.  It all downright stinks.  All I know is what I have experienced.  And yes, while we were able to say goodbye, I also witnessed suffering that I wish I could somehow un-see.  I simply thought we were “more advanced grievers” in our home.

I was wrong.

Year two was H A R D.  It was MESSY and painful.  It compounded grief in ways that I could never have foreseen.  There was anger.  There were hurt feelings between friends.  Abandonment, betrayal, loss of self-all tumbled upon us triggering new levels of grief in each of us.  His loss was the undercurrent of every encounter we had; whether the other person realized it or not.

We have emerged into the beginning of year three without him; having passed the two year anniversary of his passing one month ago today.  It is still hard, but we have found new footing and it seems to be solidly holding us. 

Here is hoping that the healing is sinking deeper within each of us with the dawn of each new day. 

They say “this year will be a turning point for us”.  The missing never ceases, but the coping with loss becomes more stable.  I pray they are correct.  I need stability.  Our children need to string good days together in a consistent pattern of success.  I believe Tim is praying on our behalf at the very throne of God; praying for Him to use all of this, our good days and our bad, for His glory. 

Lord, thank You for never once leaving our side.  YOU ARE GOOD.  Remind us to remain focused on your goodness and rain down your healing into every crevice of our  brokeness.  Amen.

Selfless Love

Have you been loved selflessly? Have you experienced a deep love that you know you are safe in? That kind of love that is fierce and yet tender; possessive and yet not overbearing; thorough and all-consuming, yet leaves you wanting them even more?

As humans, we were created to love and to be loved. God created us for an intimate relationship with Himself; but He also created us for fellowship and closeness with others.

I was loved well by my Tim. I knew I was cherished and he knew he was adored. We had deep respect and admiration for each other.

When love is real, it builds the other up instead of taking cheap shots to knock them down. It supports emotionally, encourages physically, and leads spiritually. It protects and nurtures.

A true love affair will not omit respect; it won't degrade dignity; it doesn't lack praise.

Have you known this kind of love?

Sadly, many have not. Far too many have experienced a twisted version of love's purity; yet they know no different and still call it love. Oh how marvelous the touch of love without selfish motives can be. The "cheerleader" kind of love that longs for the others success and motivates them for greatness behind the scenes.

At this time of year, my mind tends to reflect on memories more often, I am grateful to have experienced real love. Obviously, the perfect love of my Heavenly Father; but also the imperfect love of a man who knew what it meant to be selfless. A man whose love left me feeling safe and protected. While we didn't always do everything the right way, I've no doubt he loved me and I loved him.

I may never know human love on this relationship level again in my lifetime. And that is okay. I was loved well. Not perfectly, but strongly, and selflessly. I challenge those of you with loved ones by your sides to love in this way. Don't waste time not being fully invested in your own love affair. Love deeply. Love purely. Love sacrificially. Love with a grateful heart. Do it now. I assure you, you will miss it when the opportunity is gone.

For almost four years I have lived in crisis mode or grief mode. It ages the soul. My eyes have witnessed medical horrors I can never mentally erase. My heart has walked beside the hearts of our children in the shattering of their innocence and the dark valley of death. It has been a constant battle to overcome the mental flashes of difficult memories. God has tenderly reminded me of the continuing thread of the love between Tim and myself intertwined throughout each memory.

Two things have carried me through. The love and strength of my God as He shelters me under His protective wings, and the knowledge that I was loved deeply by Tim.

Love intentionally, friends, and love well. I get that life is busy, but we all have a choice to make. I hope you choose to love well in the midst of the busy.

Whispers of Fresh Dreams

The Lord will fulfill his purpose for me; 

your steadfast love, O Lord, endures forever.

Do not forsake the work of your hands. ~Psalm 138:8 ESV

I sit in my office with the door open and a clear view through my interior window of our staff manning the back desk.  A doctor escorts a couple to check-out and I can’t help but overhear their banter.  They are sweetly ribbing each other.  He has suffered a heat stroke; she is reminding him of how she warned against being out in the heat.  He slyly states to her that they have been married for 64 years and he is accustomed to not taking direction from her by now.  She smiles and mentions next week will mark their 65^th wedding anniversary.

At first, my laughter mingles with the staff as we all witness the beautiful exchanges made in humor.  Then a tear threatens to break the rim of my eyelid.  They are an adorable, elderly, sassy couple.

It is sweet,

and humorous,

full of love and tenderness.

It both melts and breaks my heart simultaneously; but mostly, it makes me smile.  I whisper a prayer for many blessings in their marriage, and my mind drifts.  Ahhh, I want this for my children.  I want them to have long, healthy, happy marriages; a dream that went unfulfilled in my own life.  I wish they could have seen their daddy and me grow old together.  I long for them to have experienced the security of witnessing our incredible love affair continue to deepen as the years added wrinkles to our hands and faces.  I am forty-four.  I am not dating.  I do not plan to remarry.  The likelihood of me ever having a 65^th wedding anniversary is completely non-existent.

If I allow myself to camp out here, in the “all I’ve lost” mindset full of unfulfilled dreams, I become a victim of my own making.  I’ve had to let that sink in a bit.  I can build a cage of pity-me-crushed-dreams and lock it up with poor-futureless-Lori deadbolts.  I can sit within the bars of my misery, huddled in the corner, whining and complaining for all to hear until eventually those around me tire of hearing about it and leave.  

This is a real option.

Or…

I can acknowledge the sorrowful thought and walk through it with fresh expectations of what my God will do in my future.  Scripture tells us

“The Lord will fulfill His purpose for me; your steadfast love, O Lord endures forever.”

God is ever so gently teaching me through my grief about His love and His plans.  His love endures forever.  He will not allow His purpose for me to go unfulfilled.  Can His purpose for me be maximized if I am wallowing in what “should have been but never will be”?

Friends, we will not ever “get over” the loss of our husbands.  It’s not something to “put behind us” or to “move on” from as some on the outside of our journey like to think.  But, and this is a big BUT, at some point we have to stand tall, pull up our big girl britches, shake the dust off, and boldly move forward towards a new kind of beautiful.  Our dreams have to change.  That hurts; we feel cheated and rightfully so; however, God still has a purpose to fulfill in our lives.

He wants to blow the whispers of fresh dreams across our souls.  He wants to light the tinder of new ideas in our hearts and fan those flames. He wants to show us how to move forward without leaving behind the love of our spouses.  He longs for us to live victoriously and thrive again. 

Will it be new?  Yes.

Is “new” sometimes scary?  Yes.

Will it be worth it?  YES!

Father God, restore our passion for living.  Help us to take ownership of our choices to move forward.  Rain your fresh grace and love heavily upon us.  Give us new dreams.  Amen.

{This article was featured on A Widow's Might}

More Than My Scars

"to grant to those who mourn in Zion—

to give them a beautiful headdress instead of ashes, 

the oil of gladness instead of mourning, 

the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit;

that they may be called oaks of righteousness, 

the planting of the Lord, that he may be glorified." 

~Isaiah 61:3 ESV

I stand in this woman’s kitchen answering basic questions that shouldn’t make me bristle.  My friend and I are visiting a church small group that meets in her home.  It is our first time; the hostess is gracious and kind, simply making small talk.

“Do you have children?"

“Do you work outside of your home?”

I try my best to politely answer and escape the questioning before she touches on the subject of my husband.  It’s more than my not wanting to experience the awkward shock that comes when people meet a young(ish) widow.  It’s even more than not wanting to look back into yet another sympathetic face made when others learn of my situation.  It is simply that:

I don’t want to be identified by my scars.

I am a forty-four year old mother of two teenagers.  I am more than a widow.  I am an employee at a wonderful medical practice.  I am more than a widow.  I am a writer and a speaker.  I am a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a niece and a friend.  I am so much more than a widow!

My children are more than the loss of their father.  “Half-orphans”, yes…but they are so much more!  They are academic competitors.  They are athletes.  They are my son and my daughter with friendships of their own.  They are more than children who have lost their dad!

I am almost two years into widowhood and while I will always be Tim’s widow, I don’t want to use it as a crutch or an excuse to not be all that God has called me to be.  I want to be known as Lori.

Lori the encourager.

Lori the God-chaser.

Lori the involved mother.

Lori the genuine friend.

Lori the hard-worker.

Lori the team player.

"Widow" is only one of my labels.  I am so much more.  As my healing journey progresses, I find myself desiring to let my other truths move to the forefront and show themselves as more dominant than my scars of widowhood.

Am I torn and damaged?  Yes, I am.

Am I covered in jagged scars on the inside?  Most definitely, yes.

Just like scarring is a natural part of the healing process after an injury on the outside of our bodies,

God is fortifying the gashes of our hearts and souls with healing tissue; ever so gently binding up the raw ends.  He is injecting them with His love, operating on them with His peace, and smoothing their surface with His assurance that we are MORE.

We are more than our circumstances, ladies.  Hear me sisters, we ARE more than our past.  We are more than our pain.  We are survivors!  We are children of the Most High God.

I want to be living life so fully and beautifully that people I meet in the future are shocked to learn I am a widow.  I want my kids to be so outrageously successful throughout high school, in college, and their adult lives that new friends are stunned to hear they lost their dad while still in junior high.

For these wishes to come true, the three of us have to start making choices now; choices to not lead with our pain; choices to show the world that we are so much more than our scars.

Lord, thank you for reminding us that in You, we are more.  You created us for so much more than one label, help us to shine for You.  May we wear our scars with pride because of the healing power You have infused in them. Enable us to lead with Your healing presence in us instead of the pain.  Amen.

The Choice of Leaning In

My husband said it often, especially in his final months. 

“Lean hard into Jesus.”

I watched him live this out right before my very eyes, the choosing where to lean hard.

He was physically miserable.  The cancerous tumor had literally eaten through his face, pain was a constant, and he hadn’t possessed the ability to swallow even his own saliva for well over an entire year. 

He could have been bitter. 

He could have been hateful to me as his primary caregiver.

He could have lost his sense of humor.

I’m pretty sure if our roles had been reversed, I would have done all of the above plus more!

He did not. 

He would have so easily been excused by this world if he had chosen to lean as far away from God during his unfair and ugly cancer battle.  So very easily excused;

“Justified”, some might say.

“Expected”, others might offer. 

But he did not lean into sin. 

He did not lean into self-pity.

He did not lean into the lies of this world or the one who spreads them.  

Tim Streller CHOSE TO LEAN HARD INTO JESUS.

And in doing so, his legacy was magnified into an incredible story of dependence on Christ. 

He chose to live for Jesus instead of living for himself.

He led our family by example.  During the most difficult journey imaginable for him, he led with dignity and wisdom and he LEANED INTO JESUS.

This Thanksgiving holiday, I am beyond grateful for a husband who showed me not only how to lean in, but WHOM to lean into.

2 Corinthians 5:15 “And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again.”

Loneliness (as featured on A Widow's Might)

Widows experience a loneliness indescribable to those living outside of our bubble.

It’s a simple reality of being the one left to continue living when the other half of us has gone.

The knowing of someone else so deeply and the being known; ahhhh, I miss it so.

Whether we are standing in a crowd or sitting in the privacy of our bedroom; the attacks of loneliness feel just the same.  We didn’t just lose our spouses.  We lost dreams of our future and the comradery of joint memories from our past.  It is such a unique aloneness to experience.

What I find as the days progress is that the loneliness doesn’t seem to care about the boundaries I’ve tried to place on it.  It creeps around barriers and seeps its way into all the crevices of my shattered heart.

As the months continue, the loneliness morphs; sometimes it is still acute and breath-stealing, others it is a dull ache pulsing behind the backdrop of my life, and there are now, finally, moments I am completely free from its powerful grip.

So how do we cope with this pain?  How do we choose to live victoriously amidst the ruins of a lonely life?  Because ladies, I believe whole heartedly that God intends for us to live fulfilling lives.  He desires for us to serve Him with gladness and live well this life we have been gifted with.

Once I truly identified loneliness for what it is, embraced the difficulty of the emotions and allowed the salty tears to roll unashamedly down my cheeks; that is when my healing began.  I cried out to God and He answered me with the truths found in His Scriptures.

Psalm 147:3  He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.
Matthew 28:20  And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.

And here is where I’ve landed, soaking in His grace and love for me.

Romans 8:35, 39  Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword?  nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
 Deuteronomy 31:6  Be strong and courageous. Do not fear or be in dread of them, for it is the LORD your God who goes with you. He will not leave you or forsake you.

Sisters, while it is true that we have lost the physical presence of our earthly love, we can never lose the affection of our Father God.  Do you hear that?  We can NEVER lose the love of God.  Nor can we shake His presence.  {Deep sigh of relief.}  Our feelings of loneliness are very real, but they cannot always be trusted.  God’s holy Word is where we must place our trust. 

We are never alone in our loneliness.

Will you open yourself up for Him to minister to your heart today?  He is a God of limitless creativity.  He loves you extravagantly and individually.  Commit your mind to Him this morning.  Hand Him the depths of your heart for safe keeping.

Give Him your all and watch Him transform the overbearing loneliness into something to be used for His glory. 

Friends, we are here for a season and for a reason.  Let's dig deep into His Word and find comfort right where we are.

Oh, how He loves you.

Birthday Reflections October 3, 2015

Forty-four years ago today I was born.

Twenty-two years ago today I celebrated this day with a new boyfriend who would turn out to be my husband.

Fifteen years ago today I was freshly home from the hospital and now a mother of two.  One 16-month old toddler and one 6-day old preemie.

Four years ago today was my last passionate kiss with my husband, as his sore throat continued to worsen and the cancer ran rampant.

Three years ago today I sat surrounded by friends and family as Tim underwent a gruesome 23 hour surgery as our last tiny chance at chasing the healing that would not be ours.

One year ago today I celebrated my first birthday in over two decades without him by my side.

Today, the kids and I went to our new home and wrote Scripture on the foundation and framing. We prayed over it and dedicated it to the Lord with extremely grateful hearts for the ability to have a safe place to lay our heads at night and make new family memories.

Today has been bittersweet for me. Lots of joyful memories, fun new laughter, and lots of tears. Lots and lots of tears. I didn't expect this intense grief wave today, but as Tim would say, "It is what it is."

Thank you for the birthday wishes. I am blessed by a God who loves me deeply, provides friends to walk alongside of me in this life, and carries me on the rough days. I am covered by His feathers; tucked safely under the refuge of His wings.

Love is a gift that transcends time and location. I know to the marrow of my bones that I am loved by Tim Streller. Today, I just found myself wishing I could experience that love in the flesh again for a long hug.

Tonight, I rest my head on my pillow and have happy thoughts. I am excited for the future of our family. I am grateful. Tears will leak and grief will overtake me at times, but the laughter always returns and joy fills me up again.

God is good. Here is to whatever God has in store for me in this next year of life. May I live it well and glorify Him!

I used Tim's Bible to copy Scripture onto the foundation.