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.

 

Rested, Refreshed, and Reset

Last week the kids and I joined my mother on a vacation.  We escaped the cold winter weather for a week in the sun, sand, and ocean.  It was a much needed week “off the grid”. 

While away, I quietly experienced the 2 year anniversary of Tim’s head and neck cancer diagnosis.  It was February 2012 when we received the call that his tonsil biopsy was cancerous.  So much can change in a few minutes on the telephone.  Instead of entering the battle over his 3 year old leukemia diagnosis, as we were anticipating, our lives took a completely new course; a journey unknown to us but known in perfect detail by our Savior.  

I pondered about these past two years on this anniversary day, but didn't mention it to the children.  There are so very many milestones for us to cross over; it seemed senseless to drill yet another date into their young minds.  It still hurt.  The memories are incredibly raw and my emotions are just right there under the surface of my resolve, ready to burst forth at the slightest opportunity.  Alone in the elevator, my mom caught glimpse of a tear and knew the dam was about to break.  I simply said, “Today is the anniversary of his diagnosis” and she knew the depth of my pain.  She and my father walked this road with Tim and me the entire journey.  They never once flinched at dropping everything in their own lives to fill in as parents to our children while we were in various hospitals for treatments over extended periods.  They are incredible individuals and we are blessed to have them as parents/grandparents. 

While I crossed through this anniversary and experienced intense sorrow, something quite amazing happened as well.  I found glimpses of pure joy in the horrible memories that flooded my mind.  JOY?  You might be puzzled by this declaration, which is understandable, so please let me explain.  I have run the gamut of emotions since Tim’s passing last month.  I have had deep depression, sorrow, anger, frustration, and fear; along with peace, understanding, calmness, gentleness, and laughter.  The pendulum of grief swings wide.  This past week, I experienced the joy that puts a smile on your face, a song in your heart and a bounce in your step.  

The main thought that God keeps putting in my mind is focused on Tim’s freedom.  

He is finally free of the mental stress from 26 years of dealing with cancer or the fear of its return.  He is completely free from the frustration of the many changes his earthly body endured throughout this 2 yearlong battle.  He is absolutely without the burden of pain that cancer brought him.  He doesn't have to worry about being brave anymore.  As much as I want Tim back right here by my side for years and years to come, simply knowing that he is in the presence of our Lord brings tears of joy to my eyes!  

I am so happy for him (and a wee bit jealous to be honest).  2 Corinthians 5:8 tells us that, for Christians, to die is to be “present with the Lord” or another translation reads “at home with the Lord”.  I love this!  As much as I treasure creating a comfortable, safe haven within the walls of our home for my family, God has created the BEST home for each of His children.  Tim is at home with his Lord.  {sigh}

 

My Tim was curious by nature.  He always wanted to know the full story.  He liked having all the details and facts.  He was an explorer, always eager to have fun, and full of intrigue and laughter.  I smile thinking about his elation in finally being able to see the whole picture.  The story of his time here on earth has been revealed to him.  He was often puzzled by how some people were allowed to beat cancer and others weren't.  Now, he has the ability to see the purpose behind his suffering and he is no doubt, discussing the ins and outs of the details with Jesus with a fresh, new perspective.  He has had his “aha” moment.  I can almost hear him whispering for me to “Hang on, babe” because heaven is better than we can dream of with our limited earthly minds.  I can see his brilliant smile and know he will be so excited to show me around when it is my turn to join him. 

I have mentioned before that life just keeps going, regardless of the stage of grief one is in.  I mean, I guess I could curl up in a ball and deny its existence for a while if I really wanted to, but eventually I would have to get up, go to work, pay the bills, buy the groceries, cook the meals, etc. again.  So I don’t really see a purpose in shutting down.  However, I believe my mother-in-law stated it best when I was visiting with her on the phone today about my recent vacation.  She said, “It must have been good to get away and reset.  You have been going a million miles an hour and needed something to just reset you, didn't you?”  She hit the nail on the head.  That’s exactly what this vacation did for me.  

It was time away from the constant managing of details, the dealing with death and its aftermath, the juggling of so many decisions.  It was a “reset” button that has allowed me to slow down my pace, breathe deeply again, refocus my attention, and re-prioritize my agenda.  It was needed more than I could have ever imagined.  

And now, I feel as though I can make clearer decisions and really drink in my satisfaction with my Lord.  Colossians 1:11, "May you be strengthened with all power, according to His glorious might, for all endurance and patience, with joy,"  

My deepest desire is to glorify His name.  After all, “God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in Him.” (John Piper)

So I continue on this path trying to walk in obedience to my Savior and trusting Him with my future.  I am a long way still from liking the journey, but with my rested, refreshed, and reset mind I am continuing to move forward and am finding some moments of joy…much sooner than I anticipated, and welcomed just the same.

God is good all the time!

Home Responsibilities Don't Take Breaks....

Today it hit me that I used to keep a big home and the 1.3 acres with 7 large flower beds and pool area immaculate (as in show room ready all day everyday) while cooking no less than two meals a day for my family and volunteering at the kids school, teaching Bible studies (on keeping the home no less), working part time, training for half marathons and attending BSF.

 

I didn't do these things for the purpose of "show", I did them to honor my God's commands in Titus and to exemplify the Proverbs 31 woman described in Scripture. I did it with joy. It was my "job" and a small way I could support and respect my husband, his amazing work ethic and the comforts his hard work had provided through God's blessings.

 

And today.......

 

I barely got 2 loads of laundry done, the downstairs vacuumed and the stairway woodwork dusted. Only one meal was "homemade" for my children (because cereal doesn't count as homemade even though they poured it themselves ) and that meal was 30 minutes late! I did get a few miles of running in with the oldest (and by "with", clearly I mean way, far behind him....way far) after we helped with a service project at the school. 

 

But I am whooped! Totally whooped. 

 

Lately, if you show up unannounced at my door, there is a greater chance that there will be a pile of laundry on the couch or on the folding station in the laundry room (unfolded, mind you) than not. I would bet that at least 2 of the 3 beds will not be made and at least one glass will be left out on the kitchen island from breakfast (at LEAST). And let's just all pretend that my measly four itty bitty flower beds don't have weeds growing in them and instead are full of beautiful fall pansies. Haha I miss the old me! Which made me think that my family probably does too.

And while I am pretty sure God understands my current stress level and emotional instability (be afraid, be very afraid), it doesn't change His Scriptures, nor does it change how they apply to my life. 

 

OUCH! 

 

So it seems I've got a little work to do. Time to step up my game again. Just as soon as I finish perusing facebook. LOL