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.

 

Returning to Me

 I used to be an avid reader of fiction. Reading was one of my favorite hobbies from high school onward. It was a passion I shared with my Granny. Special memories of swapping books and eagerly awaiting the other to complete them so we could discuss the plot and characters.

I used to be a lot of things before cancer slipped itself into all the little crevices of my existence. The constant care-giving, the years of battle, the loss. Widow brain (a real thing, friends). 

Since his passing in January of 2014, amidst the stresses and exhaustion of solo-parenting our two fabulous children through middle school, high-school, and into college. I have read exactly one book start to finish. One.

I have, within the past year, happily remarried and found amazing love which has expanded my heart in ways I didn’t know possible. I now balance having active kids in the home again. We are a blended family of seven. 

Moving to a new town, not knowing anyone, the isolation of the covid pandemic, and working from home (thankfully in my same career!) all added up to me desiring something of my own to do with snippets of free time.  Being my directionally challenged self, I got lost one afternoon (in our one stoplight town...don’t even ask) and found myself driving past a library. A library! I immediately parked and went in. Registered for a library card and perused the shelves for my first book to check out. Selecting a suspense fiction work by an author I had never read, intentionally choosing one of a series to help encourage me to finish quickly and return for the next. 

Over nine years since I’ve gotten fully lost in the pleasure of reading. Wouldn’t you know it the book I selected {“If I Run by Terri Blackstock”} unbeknownst to me, has Christianity as a subtle, well-written, underlying theme! 

Today I find myself poolside on a mini-escape with my two oldest finishing up book three in the series. Book THREE. 😃 Less than a month after I signed up for a library card in my tiny new hometown. 

Isn’t God good? Refreshing my soul and my passion simultaneously.  I feel extremely favored, as He reminds me daily that He cares about the smallest details of my existence.

Seven years...

Seven years…

It’s a long time. Two thousand-five-hundred-fifty-six days!

That’s a lot of living this life without your physical presence.

Seven years have contained some bad days; some days we weren’t sure we would survive.

So much change. Incredible growth. Hard roads walked; deep grief navigated.

Seven years have held some good days. Some days of thriving and confidence. Some days overflowing with pure happiness.

All days have possessed the common thread of your absence.

Each day also has been overflowing with the presence of God. He goes before, He walks beside, He hems us in from behind and He pours His blessing of peace within our souls.

Always loved. #EvenIf

 

This man...

 This man...

I love being in love. 

Throughout my life, during decades of marriage as well as years of singleness; I’ve always been a huge fan of love stories.

I’ve been blessed far beyond what I deserve by being loved well. Loved perfectly and unconditionally by my gracious Heavenly Father. Loved securely by a devoted husband. Loved through my failures and successes by two incredible children. Loved intensely by supportive parents and siblings. Loved and truly known in deep friendship. 

And now, being loved by this man...I tear up at the privilege. 

He has opened parts of my heart that were long ago abandoned; unlocked new joys within me. He encourages me to be the best and kindest version of myself. He brings all good things into my life. Our life together is filled with laughter (usually at my expense which is refreshing and needed 🤣). He makes me want to tuck tighter under the wing of my Savior so I can pour deeper love into him and our combined five children. 

When God started opening my heart to the possibility of dating again, I was incredibly reluctant and hesitant. I didn’t want to settle and I was scared of being vulnerable. I remember telling God (and close friends) that what I really wanted was the comfort of a decades-long love affair without having to invest twenty years to get there again. 

And we laughed. 

Life doesn’t work that way. Or it isn’t supposed to. 

But God.

What He has given me with this man blows my mind, humbles me, and fulfills dreams I didn’t even know to dream!

I am most relaxed when in his presence. Stress flees with one long hug from his strong arms. A bad attitude vanishes with one smirk from his dimpled smile. A single glance from his blue eyes captivates me and pastes a cheesy smile across my face. His heart is warm. His mind is brilliant. He challenges and supports me. He makes me feel safe. And mercy, with that first kiss I was completely undone. 

This love did not complete me. It did not heal me. God did the tedious work of binding up the tattered edges of my heart in the years before I met this man. My Lord was tirelessly and patiently preparing me for this time and this marriage. With this man. 

What this love has done is magnify my happiness. It has enhanced my already wonderful life. It has revealed new facets of my heart.

This love with this man; it has transformed me for the better.

I’m not sure why I’m the least bit surprised this love has the comfort of a life long relationship, without having put in the decades to get here. 

You’d think by the age of forty nine I’d know my Redeemer’s generosity and expect His attention to the details of my heart’s desire.

Yet He continually amazes me.

God is such a loving Father and I am one overwhelmingly grateful child.

Being Present in Our Now

 

"Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself."

Matthew 6:.34 ESV

Breathe deeply.

 

Smile genuinely.

Find beauty in every single day.

Be grateful.

Laugh.

Start living in the now.

I know how some days this comes easier than others.  I am walking this very same road myself.

And I am raising children on it.  I recently shed tears with my teenage daughter over how she won't have her Daddy to walk her down the wedding aisle.  She is fifteen and she shared that she almost dreads her wedding day because of what has been lost and who will be missing.

My heart splinters in new places I didn't even know had not previously been shattered.

Life changes suddenly.

We have faced catastrophic loss. We know deep hurt and unrelenting sorrow.

We can choose to remain in the pain, being paralyzed by the fear of nothing ever being good again, focusing on all the events he will be missing from, that are yet to come.  Wallowing in the exhaustion of facing these future moments as our sadness steals their joy before they even have a chance to occur. 

OR

We can start taking steps towards BEING PRESENT IN OUR NOW.

Because, dreading the future without him won’t bring him back. It won’t make the days to come any easier.  What it is guaranteed to do though, is steal us from our now.  It will suffocate the current right out of us as the days will pile upon themselves until we have missed living.

We’ve lost enough. Let’s not choose to give more to death than it has already taken.

So together, let's pause.

Breathe deeply.

{The Spirit of God has made me and the breath of the Almighty gives me life. ~Job 33:4}

Smile genuinely.

{A cheerful look brings joy to the heart. ~Proverbs 15:30a NLT}

Find beauty in this day that is before us.

{This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it. ~Psalm 118:24}

Be grateful.

{Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.

~1Thessalonians 5:18}

Laugh.

{She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come. ~Proverbs 31:25}

Let's make the choice to start being present in our now.

My daughter's wedding day will arrive sometime in the next decade or so.  And yes, her Daddy will be missing from the day.  And yes, we will be achingly aware of that missing.  But dreading it now isn't going to change his lack of presence, it will only steal peace from today.  We will find a way to honor his place in her life and heart, and it will be a beautiful celebration.  He will have the best seat in the house, from heaven above.

We’ve lost enough. Let’s not choose to give more to death than it has already taken.

So together, let's pause.

Breathe deeply.

{The Spirit of God has made me and the breath of the Almighty gives me life. ~Job 33:4}

Smile genuinely.

{A cheerful look brings joy to the heart. ~Proverbs 15:30a NLT}

Find beauty in this day that is before us.

{This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it. ~Psalm 118:24}

Be grateful.

{Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.

~1Thessalonians 5:18}

Laugh.

{She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come. ~Proverbs 31:25}

Let's make the choice to start being present in our now.

My daughter's wedding day will arrive sometime in the next decade or so.  And yes, her Daddy will be missing from the day.  And yes, we will be achingly aware of that missing.  But dreading it now isn't going to change his lack of presence, it will only steal peace from today.  We will find a way to honors his place in her life and heart and it will be a beautiful celebration.  He will have the best seat in the house, from heaven above.

It's ALL Hard; Choose Your Hard

 

It is hard to be stuck in grief.

It is hard to walk through the heaviness of grief and process the pain so you can move forward.

CHOOSE YOUR HARD.

It is hard to regret poor food choices and neglect your health to the point of obesity.

It is hard to wake up early and prioritize your personal health and fitness goals.

CHOOSE YOUR HARD.

It is hard to “check out” from parental responsibilities and then deal with the aftermath of your absence in your children’s lives.

It is hard to be truly present with your children and remain consistent and firm in your parenting.

CHOOSE YOUR HARD.

It is hard to face difficult times without a firm foundation in God.

It is hard to be diligent in setting aside daily time for Him.

CHOOSE YOUR HARD.

It is hard to date.

It is hard to be single.

CHOOSE YOUR HARD.

It is hard to feel isolated in a relationship and watch it crumble around you seemingly out of your control.

It is hard to roll up your sleeves and work through the communication that will make you a stronger couple.

 

CHOOSE YOUR HARD. 

It is hard to keep your experiences locked inside yourself.

It is hard to be vulnerable enough to share your story.

CHOOSE YOUR HARD.

 

In this life, we have choice after choice to make.  Which "hard" will you choose for yourself?  Because really, it's ALL hard; so choose YOUR hard wisely.

Fill My Days with Living

 

 

“And Job died, an old man, and full of days.”

Job 42:17

My husband died in the supposed prime of his life. He was 45 years young when he passed away.  He never even got to have his midlife crisis!  In a few weeks, it will be my 45^th birthday.  The shock of being alone has worn off over the past few years.  The rhythm of this new dance without him by my side has settled into its familiar cadence.  Grief cuts in occasionally now, but the debilitating occurrences are further apart.  Maybe partially because I refuse to slow dance with my grief over and over again or possibly because the time spent on the dance floor of widowhood has changed me.

I appreciated my husband. I was blessed and I knew it.  I had one of the good ones; a hard worker and great provider, an involved father to our children, a follower of Christ, and a hilariously witty man.  May I tell you a secret?

 

Sometimes it makes me sad that he isn’t here to be loved by the new me. 

 

Don't get me wrong, we loved each other well, but losing him has made me more aware of my faults and flaws in the marriage.  It has given me fresh perspective on struggles we encountered and how I could have been more for him.  He knew he was cherished and respected.  He was secure in my love for him.  We had great communication and a ton of laughter.  But, if I was given a do-over with him as who I am now, I think he would be pleasantly surprised at how mellow his loss has made me.  I hope I would remember to sweat the small stuff less, not worrying over the goal of perfection in each area of our lives.  We loved our life together, but I'm fairly certain he would be super proud of my increased passion for living.

Tim was perfect for me as he softened my rough edges and taught me it is okay to not always have a plan A, B, and C.  Losing him to cancer taught me that I can only control my responses to life’s circumstances, not always the circumstances themselves. I am softer in many ways and much stronger in others.  I still laugh at most things (that is just part of who I am and part of why he loved me); and in general, I now tend to keep things lighter and more relaxed around our home.  I am more tolerant of others personal journeys and less accepting of unnecessary input and opinions in my life.  I wish my Tim could be loved by this Lori.  I am a better person for the spins I have taken on the dance floor of terminal illness, death, and the aftermath of loss.

Losing him caused my deepest pain so far in this life.  I could choose to park myself in that despair, focusing on the negative, and miss the gifts his loss gave me.

The gifts of…

awareness that time is fleeting and we won’t all be given a life “full of days”, which causes a sense of urgency within me to fill my days with living!

knowing God’s strength will never fail me, and choosing to tap into His strength!

a deeper desire to enjoy the now and the wisdom to slow down and soak up moments!

Worth It

On this weekend, 23 years ago I went on a blind date to an outdoor rodeo with a handsome cowboy whose blue eyes and sly smile intrigued me.

I’ve made a lot of poor choices in this life.  I have plenty of regrets.

Reluctantly agreeing to meet Tim Streller at a rodeo was neither.  Instead, it was one of the best decisions of my life.

We had twenty years of laughter and love.  God built a beautiful life and an amazing family for us.  We experienced heartache and joy holding tightly to each other’s hands.  Our life together was spectacular.  We kept our eyes on Christ and prioritized open and honest communication, even when it was painful to do so.

A good marriage is work.  It requires the desire to build the other up with kindness and encouragement.  It demands self-sacrifice and commitment.  It requests honor, protection, and respect; but a good marriage is also FUN and carefree.  It is comfortable and casual.  It is late night giggles and arms wide open.  It prefers to do life together.  It is safety and security, in it you find the one place you can be completely you without risk of judgment or abandonment.

A good marriage has you knowing you are treasured and chosen.  It is rolling up your sleeves and working beside each other for common goals.  It is being the cheerleader outside of the limelight, the quiet supporter of each other’s dreams. 

I am immensely proud to have been the wife of a man who chose to make me feel beautiful even when I wasn’t (both internally and externally); one who challenged me to be the best version of myself; one who didn’t walk away in the hard, but stayed in the messy and did the work to make us a better team.

I’m forever grateful I said “yes” to the rodeo blind date that late September evening.  And even knowing now how our lives would end up, I’d tell that young girl to SAY YES AGAIN!  The two decades together were worth it.  His love was worth it. 

 

      

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. 

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.

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.

"Like I'm Gonna Lose You"

We are driving down the road with the radio blaring.  It's what we do.  Loud music makes me happy. It always has.  "Like I'm Gonna Lose You" by Meghan Trainor and John Legend comes on and my girl cranks it up even louder.  We smile and sing along at the top of our lungs.  The words begin to sink into the broken places of my heart.  Each little crevice is filled with a beautiful memory of the love affair her Daddy and I had for two decades.    

[Meghan Trainor]

I found myself dreaming in silver and goldLike a scene from a movie that every broken heart knowsWe were walking on moonlight, you pulled me closeSplit second and you disappeared and then I was all aloneWoke up in tears with you by my sideBreath of a leave and I realized,No one will promise tomorrow

[Chorus]

So, I'm gonna love you like I'm gonna lose you,I'm gonna hold you like I'm saying goodbyeForever will stay in, I won't take you for granted'Cause we'll never know it when we'll run out of timeSo, I'm gonna love you like I'm gonna lose you,I'm gonna love you like I'm gonna lose you

[John Legend]

In a blink of an eye,Just a whisper of smokeYou could lose everythingThe truth is you're never aloneSo, I'll kiss you longer babyAny chance that I getI'll make the most of the minutesSo long with no regretLet's take our time to say what we wantHere's what we've gotBefore it's all gone'Cause no one will promise tomorrow

[Chorus]

So, I'm gonna love you like I'm gonna lose you,I'm gonna hold you like I'm saying goodbyeForever will stay in, I won't take you for granted'Cause we'll never know it when we'll run out of timeSo, I'm gonna love you like I'm gonna lose you,I'm gonna love you like I'm gonna lose you

Tears begin to form and a large lump resides in my throat.  The song ends.  I turn down the volume and it takes me several seconds to compose myself before I can remotely trust my voice will even work.  I turn to our gorgeous, nearly 15 year old daughter with tears slipping down my cheeks I tell her, "This is the type of love I want for you and your brother to one day find.  THIS is the kind of love your Daddy and I had.  It's an all-out, self-sacrificial, best-friendship with a deep, honest, living-large kind of total and complete love.  And it makes for a beautiful life."

Loving fully.  Not holding back.  Living in each moment and cherishing each other.  These are things you will never regret.  DO THEM.  

So friends, if you are blessed enough to have someone special by your side in this life...LOVE THEM LIKE YOU'RE GONNA LOSE THEM.  Don't miss an opportunity to show them you value and respect them.  Don't waste time focusing on the petty, let those things fall aside and JUST LOVE THEM.  Enjoy them.  Encourage them.  Be their biggest cheerleader and their best secret keeper.  Be their safe place to land in a world of chaos, stress, and pressure.  Be their 'home".   

I assure you, you won't regret choosing to love deeply.  I know I don't.  

What a pure honor it was to be married to my best-friend.  We loved deeply.  We didn't always get it right.  Who does?  But, it was good.  It was better than good.  It was a breath-taking whirlwind romance and it was worth it!         

Nineteen Months: A Mental In-Between

It all feels recent and yet distant.

Painful memories are less prominent (unless it is late at night).

Sleep has returned to a normal cycle.

Beautiful memories, ones from before illness finally fill my mind.

The missing remains, but it is blanketed at times with new coping skills.

Here is where my current mental battle remains...irrational fears are still very present, usually surfacing at bedtime. 

At nineteen months out from experiencing one of my biggest fears become my reality...I am existing somewhere between wanting to dream of my future again and knowing dreams don't always come true.

It's a strange place to be; this in-between.  

The place where tragedy has touched and changed me deeply, yet hopes linger.

When I am exhausted, strange thoughts and feelings can enter my mind.  It isn't fully explainable, it is as though I am on the verge of dreaming of a new future, yet I am sabotaging it with crazy "worst fear" scenarios at the same time. My mind races off on a tangent.  "What if?"  How would I respond if my worst fears about the future came true (again)?  Why would I respond that way? Over and over, the scenarios play out in my mind.  I find myself frustrated over something that hasn't even happened.  Irrational fears are a little discussed part of the grief process.

Any new happiness will always be tinged with my reality that loss occurs in this life.  It is a mental battle to just experience the joy when it comes and not play out all the possible negative scenarios that could ruin it.  The thought process is unwelcome yet unavoidable.

So I turn to Scripture.  I read in my Bible and claim God's Word.  Taking thoughts captive.  Being reminded that He makes beauty from ashes.  Resting under the safety of His wings and taking shelter there from the vicious cycle of thoughts and fears that want to grip my mind and steal my future happiness.  Remembering that fear is not from God but is a weapon of the enemy, I lay my fears...rational and irrational both...at the foot of the cross.

The peace He gives cleanses my mind and heart.

I am currently residing in the in-between.  Behind me lay ruins.  A greatest fear realized through profound loss. Before me exists an immediate future I can neither predict nor control.  Beyond that lies eternity, which is secured in Christ.

My responsibility is to be obedient to Christ, keep my mind steadfast on Him, and to trust Him for the details.  I pray he enlarges my ability to fully experience hopes and dreams again and diminishes my "devil's advocate" mentality that constantly wants to remind me things in life are hard and won't go as planned.  I depend on Him alone to balance knowledge of reality and the ability to dream of beauty again.  In the meantime, I am fighting hard to live in the moment and enjoy the now.  

I want renewal.  

I want to dream without constant filter of fear and loss touching it.  

For this in-between is where newness will sprout, if I allow it.