Nine Years

It is such a long time - encompassing so many obstacles and much more growth and change than I ever could have fathomed. Depths of grief I wasn't sure we could climb out of and mountain top joys where we are always aware of your physical absence.

Nine years!

I was 42 when we said goodbye, now I am 51. Our children are now 22 and 23. So much life has been lived without you by our side.

It's hard to think of how different our lives would be today if you were still here.

Hard and useless.

Comparison can be a thief of joy.

I recently sat down to pay the kids' final semester bursar bills.

I cried with thankfulness to God for seeing us through these nine years.

I cried with the realization of the celebrations on the horizon where your presence will be missed.

I cried with gratitude for you., Thank you for loving us so completely,. Thank you for leading us. Thank you for providing for us. Thank you for choosing me in 1995 and for building our family together.

I am so incredibly proud of our children. Their resilience. Their work ethic. Their intense dedication to walk through their grief and improve on themselves. I am excited to see where this gift of education leads them in their lives; what trajectory their careers take, how they continue to grow personally. I may have written the checks, but they showed up, did the hard work well, and earned their soon to be awarded degrees.

A lot can change in nine years. A lot of positive can be accomplished.

I have faltered at plenty in this journey, but when it comes to our kids; I am confident your legacy has been honored and we have made you proud.

Timothy Wayne Streller

04/03/1968 - 01/11/2014

Even If

School Awards Assembly 2014

Lunch Date with Mom 2023

Just Like That

Just like that…they are leaving my nest again and returning to their college campuses. 

I sit here crying.

Some sad tears, because I will miss their lively banter and laughter filling this home. I will miss the deep discussions about the book he has just read as he enlightens me on authors and their history. I will miss him taking over my office desk to work on his newest graphic design creation. I will miss the giggles and watching Netflix shows with her while she sporadically shares about her new friends and her plans for her future. Shockingly, I’ll even miss making three meals a day and the endless cycles of laundry and dishes.

Some happy tears because I am just so stinking proud of who they are at their core and how they are navigating their lives into adulthood.

Some grief tears, because I want their dad here to witness it all and cheer them on in person. Although without his loss, they would be entirely different individuals. We all would. It is a grief that is so intimately woven within us; a loss that shattered us so devastatingly completely that there was no choice but to rebuild the pieces in a new way. So yes, I am sad for all that was lost and yet simultaneously happy for how we have chosen to survive and move forward.

We are approaching the eight year anniversary of their daddy’s relocation to heaven and I’d love to say the pain and missing have lessened; but that would be an untruth.  In some ways, the missing is heightened for them as they launch into societies where their father was never known. The ache never goes away. The grief lives inside each of us. We don’t need a date on a calendar to realize who is gone or how long they have been away; it exists within us every moment of every day. And yet eight years out, I personally still experience physical effects of the grief around special dates.

Gone too soon. By my standards. But my standards are not God’s. God is sovereign and Tim lived out every one of the days appointed to him on this earth. I want to scream, “this isn’t how their lives should be!” and yet, this is exactly how their lives were meant to play out according to the plan of their heavenly Father.  His sovereignty is a tough thing to grasp. He knows all. He works all things together for good and for His glory for those who love Him. He didn’t create cancer; He is the author of life. He didn’t design for broken families, but He is with us in our brokenness. My mind swirls with the struggles to understand it all.

That is where faith fills the gaps within all the cracks of my life. Faith tells me that no matter what lies ahead, God is already there. He has already prepared a path for me. He knew my entire life story before my creation. He knew theirs as well. He is at work within them, healing, and guiding. I rest in that truth. I leave these precious children at the foot of the cross where Jesus paid it all. Surrendering to His plans for each of us. Loving the gift of this front row seat in the lives of our children.

Go do good things, kiddos. Share yourselves and kindness with the world. You are loved beyond your wildest imagination and prayed over both on earth and in the heavens above.

 

Love Has Found Me

The other half of my forever. 

It has come quickly and fiercely, yet looking back, I see God’s gentle prodding and preparing of my heart for this timing.

Five months ago I sat across from a widower in a local restaurant on our first face-to-face meeting. We instantly connected on several levels. When he spoke of his late wife, his eyes and voice changed ever so slightly. Maybe it wouldn’t have been noticeable to many; but to someone who also had a beautiful marriage...it was obvious...this was a man who loved well and was loved well.

What a gift!

If I could visit the afterlife and have a few minutes with his late wife, I would hug her tightly and say...

Thank you, Julie.
Thank you for loving him well. Thank you for raising such sweet and respectful children with him.  Thank you for the beautiful relationship you had with both extended families.

Words actually fail me when I try to describe the gift he is to me, and I fully acknowledge that YOU were instrumental in molding him into the man who stands before me. I appreciate your love affair and your forever place in his heart. I am humbled to be stepping into the lives of your children and family. You will always be honored by me. Your family will always be respected by me.

Mark and I never could have imagined that you and my late husband would only be half of our forever's; but here we are.

We know we are fortunate to have found each other; to be experiencing two "love of our life's" in a single lifetime.  I am head over heels in love with him.

I promise to love him completely. I vow to love and treat your children as though they are my own.

I prayed, oh friends how I prayed!

I was content to remain single. We were a happy family of three. I had no desire to ever date again.

I prayed daily for an entire year that if God had someone special for me in my future, he would change the desire of my heart.

He did.

It scared me.

So I prayed.

I prayed daily for an entire year for God to prepare me for my future mate and to prepare him for me.

It was another year and a half before I met him.

A man who was loved well and loves me well. A man who knows the plight of solo parenting through grief and has excelled at it.  A man who is respected in his profession and adored by his family and friends.

I admire him. I cherish him. I enjoy being his. He is the answer to three and a half years of constant prayer.

So now, I pray.

I pray God blesses and protects our relationship.

I pray God continues to mold me into the woman this man needs as his encourager and partner.

I pray I can be a safe haven for him and his children in the years to come and that he can be a positive, loving mentor in the lives of my children.

This life is full of twists and turns; crushing turmoil and unexpected blessings. We cannot escape pain and loss; but we can embrace love. God is so faithful to expand our hearts to include new love without it standing in competition or comparison with the past. I marvel at how the great loves of my life can so peacefully co-exist independently within me.

Beauty from ashes...God is good.

A Podcast Interview: Memories and Missing

Yesterday morning, I sat with a friend and visited about widowhood.

She asked real questions and I gave raw answers.  We barely even noticed the microphone in front of us.

Today, her podcast interview was released.

My first thought while listening is, "Goodness gracious, I do laugh a lot in this life!" and I am not one bit sad about that fact!

Tim would be tickled that I am still laughing my way through this messy life.

https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/elizabethkaydyers-podcast/id1417204110?i=1000436964800&fbclid=IwAR19zGOQI3gvZ36Feettpa367VXZkp0vYETXWacmtTdgLfatJ-7qSkCHTcA

Every Little Thing

Yesterday, I cried for at least a solid one third of my day.

{I think that’s the real reason I don’t cry very often…I’ll leak a tear here or there, I’ll choke up and have to take a moment to regain my composure, but rarely do I ever just allow myself to bawl it out; because once I allow the floodgates to open…I can’t rein it back in.  There is definitely a point of no return.  And yesterday morning, I hit that point.}

Our kids are growing up.  I think that is what triggered this cry-fest.  All the years of us praying for the blessing of parenthood, followed by the years of praying daily over their lives and who they will become, praying fervently for God to mold them into independent, kind, leaders with a closeness to Him and good friendships…only to see it come to fruition. 

And now, we are embarking on an adventure that Tim and I dreamed together, yet I am left here alone to oversee; this launching of them into adulthood.  Their senior years of high school, the college visits and decisions, the family vacations, the navigation of first relationships; it’s a lot for a two parent home to guide.  And here I am.  Solo.  Quite frankly, I’m just winging it most days, trusting God to fill in the gaps of my parenting failures, and begging Him to help me pause to enjoy the blessing that these two are in each moment. 

Answered prayer is what they are.  My hearts cry was for the gift of motherhood.  God heard the petitions of my heart and granted me this blessing.  And with the blessing of being their mother, comes the experiencing of all their milestone life events.  Each one marvelously beautiful and joy filled!  Nothing can take away from that truth.  But likewise, each now has a tinge of sorrow and missing.  I refuse to give it permission to overpower the moments of happiness, but that heart-sting is still there.  

You see, once your spouse (or parent if you are a child) is gone, nothing is ever the same.  No joy experienced is without the shadow of missing.  There is always a longing for the lost one to be experiencing it beside you.  It never really goes away; this yearning for their presence. 

This is the place where joy and sorrow co-mingle.   

WE are the place where happiness and grief collide.

And it is okay.

The tears are okay.  The joy and laughter are okay.  It is ALL a swirl of our reality. 

Every little thing…he is missing from.  It simply is what it is.

So if you see me gazing off into the distance, eyes brimming with tears, breath ragged; know that I am just fine.  I am grateful for the blessings in my life.  I am trying my best to navigate witnessing the fulfillment of so very many shared dreams alone, and trying to soak it all in for the both of us.  Sometimes I get a little lost in the moment, but love always wins and gratitude is always present.

Christmas Miracles

ONCE UPON A TIME...a wife spent most of an eight month period beside her terminally ill husband at their "vacation home" on Mercy Hospital's 4th floor oncology wing. 

Excursions were rare but when able, the two would walk the hospital halls and grounds hand in hand.

The hospital had a nice little gift shop on the first floor that the couple would pass by in route to fresh air and sunshine.  Sometimes, the husband would become too weak on the journey and they would have to pause for rest beside the gift shop window.

A large display of Brighton jewelry was just beyond the glass.  The wife was drawn to a pretty necklace. Something about it made her smile. 

One day the husband felt stronger than normal and asked his bride if she would escort him and his iv pole into the shop to point out the exact necklace she liked so much.

The husband was a great provider for his family and a generous man.  The wife expected to receive the necklace as a gift from him maybe on her birthday or for Christmas.  But as is the case with terminal illness and chemotherapy, the husband's thought processes became cloudy.  The necklace was never mentioned to anyone other than the husband and the gift was never received.

In August of 2013, they wheeled the husband out of Mercy Hospital as he completed his final life extending dose of chemotherapy and returned home to die. 

He passed away in January of 2014.

In December of 2016, the wife sat in her living room flanked on either side by their two precious children, now sixteen and seventeen years old. They presented their mother with her Christmas gifts.  As she opened the first gift, a luxurious throw, a Brighton bag slipped from its folds.

As the mom reached into the bag, the very necklace that had brought smiles to her face during some of the darkest days of her life fell into her hand.  Tears fell from her face as she whispered the story to their children.

💞🎄💞🎄💞🎄💞🎄💞🎄💞🎄

LIVE RIGHT NOW, Trust God Has Your Tomorrow

Even when it feels like life isn't going "as planned".

Even if you've made mistakes you can't imagine Him redeeming.

Even though you have walked through loss that seems impossible for Him to provide restoration in.
...

He has already made a path for your future. The tree has been planted. Your future needs will be met.

Learn to rest in the now, forgive the past, and have hope for the "next".

Don't waste time regretting what has been nor dreading what will be.

LIVE RIGHT NOW, EXACTLY WHERE YOU ARE. Find the joy here. Trust God has your tomorrow.

 

Accepting No

Yours, O Lord, is the greatness and the power and the glory and the victory and the majesty,

for all that is in the heavens and in the earth is yours. 

Yours is the kingdom, O Lord, and you are exalted as the head above all. 

1 Chronicles 29:11 (ESV)

May I share a secret with you?

Sometimes I get tired of hearing the “feel good” narratives…even from the Christian community.

So often the stories told are ones of victory.  Stories where people prayed for years and God granted them their request.  I have those in my own life too; years of prayer where God eventually said, “Yes”.  Our children are a result of such prayers through years of failed adoptions and infertility.  I am grateful.  But guess what?

I also have stories of years of prayer where God said, “No”.  
Why don’t we hear more of those? 
Why are those stories not shared as beautiful tapestries of immense faith as well?

I’d love for someone to share how their life fell apart and they fought to still keep their eyes on Jesus, right in the midst of the chaos and yuck. How they don’t know the “why” and they don’t see the reason for their loss or pain.  That it doesn’t feel at all like God “chose” this outcome for the good of anyone, yet they still trust He will make good from it for eternal purposes.

I want to raise my hand and shake my head in affirmative solidarity that THIS STINKS and know that it is okay to hate the situation yet still adore God. That it is normal to have to work hard at finding the joy in all circumstances we are commanded to have; a discipline of joy rather than a natural response.

I guess I selfishly want to know someone else thinks they got totally cheated, that this isn’t fair. I want to not be handed a blanket of “it’s for the best” when I have two children in this home being raised without their daddy who was madly in love with them.

I guess my whole point to this thought pattern is…it is okay. We don’t have to have it all figured out in our accepting no from God.

Life doesn’t have to tie up in a pretty bow for it to have meaning and depth.

Our faith isn’t less than someone's who received an answer of “yes”.  As a matter of fact, having lived through both “yes’s” and “no’s”, I’d have to say in my personal case, my faith is stronger from the “no” journey than it was from the “yes”.

I recently heard a question on the radio.

“Do you believe God is in control?”

I repeated it aloud to myself. Really stopping to question, do I believe God is in control of ALL when Tim still died a horrendous death from cancer?  A death that God could have prevented, but chose not to; a death that ripped the hearts of many people (but especially the three of us) to shreds in grief…do I believe God is in control of THAT?

I turned off the radio and drove in silence.

Yes.

Yes, I do believe God is in control. I believe He has the power to do anything He desires.  He is in control but He is not a controlling God.  There is a difference.  His eye is on eternity.  He is faithful.  On this earth we are guaranteed struggles and pain.  One of their purposes is to draw us closer to Him and to direct our focus to eternity.

So here I stand, sharing my “No” story and still raising my hands in honor to the God who is in control; the Faithful One who doesn’t equate my faith with an earthly happy ending, but instead equates it with the blessing of knowing Him better.

Father God, it is extremely possible that I will never understand the "No" answers this side of heaven, but I still call upon Your name as Faithful.  Thank You that You are less concerned with my desire to have all the answers and are more concerned with my eternal relationship with You.  I trust You even when I don't like the answers.  My story is no less relevant than stories with "yes's". Amen. 

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

Intercessory Prayer Warrior

On particularly difficult days, especially those hard ones involving parenting solo, I like to think of Tim petitioning with me on behalf of our children. He, face down before the very throne of our Most High God, while I kneel here on earth; our prayers mingling together as they approach God's ear.

The Bible is clear, Tim did not become an angel and we will not be married in heaven. But he is still the Daddy to our children; his love for us did not diminish when he left this earth. In fact, I believe his love for us has multiplied to a level our human brains cannot comprehend; love so pure and true.

I take comfort in knowing that we have Tim as a prayer warrior interceding for us and praying in unison with me. ❤

 

Me at his burial place

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.

Grief is a Messy Casserole (As Seen on A Widow's Might)

"I caused the widow's heart to sing for joy." Job 29:13 {ESV}

Grief doesn’t follow an outline or a formula. Sure, there are stages to experience, but I have found that even those are more of a jumbled mess than a straight line to follow or a checklist to complete.

Grief is as unique and complex as the individual experiencing it.

I thought I knew how this grief game was going to play out. After all, there are plenty of books and published steps or stages for us to refer to. We had a few years notice that death was coming.

Let’s be clear, I don’t believe we will ever be fully healed from our grief in this life until Jesus returns.  None of us. I do believe we will learn to live beside and around it, that somehow it is possible to not be consumed by it.  This is what I am referring to when I reference “healing."

As “prepared” as I was for my husband’s passing, I could never have imagined how jumbled and chaotic the grief process would be. I knew grief would be a heavy blanket in our home. I knew that we would alternate kicking off those covers with snuggling under the heaviness of them.

What I did NOT mentally process until we were in the middle of the mess was the individual journeys progressing at their own pace yet existing all under the same roof.  Nor the very real fact that we weren’t each experiencing grief stages individually or collectively.  It was a mish-mash of emotions in three individual lives interacting with each other.  And most days it was suffocating for me.

Instead of making our way through the stages at our own pace, it felt much more like we were being force fed a nasty, casserole-mix of all the emotional grief stages--huge, overloaded spoonfuls of the grossest hodge-podge of cupboard ingredients tossed together and set in the oven to bake at 350 degrees for an hour then served tongue-scorching hot.  I kept thinking in my head, "Where is my checklist of stages? How can I possibly minister to my children in their grief when I can’t even sort out my own emotions?"

I guess I share this with you ladies because just maybe, a few of you have found grief to be less textbook and more messy casserole. I want to encourage you that it does get better.  The grief does become something that we can live with.

It takes determination and bravery to step out from under the heaviness of grief's weight, to get rid of the nasty aftertaste that lingers.  We are approaching the two year mark and the kids and I are living proof that through God’s mercy and strength, it can be done.

We are not “cured."

We are not “healed” in the traditional sense of the word.

But we are on the journey to healing in the ways that matter.

We are striving to live beautiful and full lives in spite of our grief.

Do the work, sisters.  Whether your grief is neat and orderly, following the stages outlined or is a nasty clump of yucky casserole you are choking on.  Keep leaning on Jesus.  Keep processing the emotions as they come.  Keep moving forward.

Healing is possible.

Lord God, thank You that You long to make the widows heart sing for joy.  Oh what a marvelously tender and loving God You are to us.  Your love and grace are the sweetest tastes we could ever experience.  Thank You for removing the bitter aftertaste of grief's casserole from our tongues and freeing us to worship You for the healing found in Your presence.  Amen.

Living Life as a Party of One

I've had a lovely mini-escape over the past several days.  It wasn't my first time to travel alone since Tim's passing, but I have yet to be alone at my destination until now.  Does that make sense?  This was a first for me.  Ever, actually.

 

I toured a Native American Cultural center.

 

Walked a trail looking for bison (saw one in the distance but no photo).

Enjoyed a delicious meal at a nice restaurant.

Spent an entire day being pampered at a spa.

Shopped at some cute little boutiques.

 

Lounged around, watched the rain, read a book, played in the casino some, and rested in a steam sauna.

Walked through an art gallery.

Visited a winery and toured a chocolate factory.

 

It was wonderful.

It was peaceful.

It was what I needed.  Time for self-evaluation and reflection.  Time to look at my future with eyes wide open and a heart willing to go where God leads.

I needed to just be Lori again.  The Lori that Tim loved.  The Lori without the weight of the world on her shoulders.

I drove home with the radio blaring, singing at the top of my lungs and with a smile on my face. 

I am refreshed.  I can do this.  

{And as soon as I waver and begin to think I can't, I will take myself on another escape, soak up more of God's creation and let Him whisper to my soul in the quiet of my singleness that He is with me and in Him I can do all things.}

I intend to live a beautiful life.  A life that glorifies God and honors my husbands memory.  

I don't have a clue what God has in store for my future.  I feel Him working on my heart.  I see Him shaping my thoughts.  Yet I don't know which types of beauty my life will include.  What I do know, what He has already proven, is that He is faithful. And because of His faithfulness, I can trust Him. 

And trusting Him, my friends, it is enough!