Author: God is in the Outcome

How Do I Live Without You?

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June 16th, 2023

Loneliness is something I never thought I’d have to face again…or, at least, not for a long, long time. You always told me that you would go first, because of statistics for longevity of men and women, and you always said you were glad because you didn’t want to live without me ever again. I’d get aggravated with you when you talked like that because, if that were true then I would be the one left here.

And here we are…so, so, so much too soon.

I told you that if you left for Heaven first then I hoped I had dementia by then and that I’d wake up every day thinking you were still here, asking people “Have you seen my husband? He should be home from work any minute now…”

I used to teach in my Alzheimer’s & Dementia classes that you shouldn’t correct your patient when they said something like that. I taught them never to say “Don’t you remember? John died in a car accident 40 years ago.” I told them this, not just because it is the appropriate standard of practice for dementia but, most especially, because it makes people crumble. The look on someone’s face when you say this is the dawning of what must be the exact same expression they had when they opened the door to the Highway Patrol Officers on that fateful night. It pours over them like a deafening, thunderous waterfall. It is having to relive the worst moment of your life over and over again, every single day. Not telling them over and over every day is an act of sheer compassion. “I’m sure he’ll be home soon. Probably got stuck in traffic. Go have your breakfast while you wait.” (Don’t worry; they forget they’ve been waiting while they’re eating and then say something like “My husband just left for work; he’ll be home before supper.”

Fast forward to today. I wake up some mornings, for just a few seconds, feeling “normal.” I reach for you on your side of the bed before I even open my eyes and then a mad shuffle of my hands reveals only the tissue box and a pile of dried, salty tissues from the night before.

My mom brought a gigantic multi-pack of tissues from Costco the day we got home from the hospital. There must have been 14-16 full size boxes of Kleenex. I thought at the time, “Well, that’s overkill.” Turns out it wasn’t. Note to self: don’t forget to buy more Kleenex soon. Other note to self: go to Costco/Sam’s next time someone dies…it will probably be more helpful than they’ll realize.

Grief makes people uncomfortable. That’s why you wait until they’re all gone to release it. You have moments when you feel tears coming on and you vacuum them back in; your body, your heart feels like an empty vacuum anyway.

In the morning I try to fill that vacuum void with Jesus. I have praise music playing now, my self-created “Brave” playlist on Apple Music that I have created over years of things that I needed courage to face. If you are in a place where you need some and you have Apple Music, let me know and I’ll send it to you.

When I finish my musings here I will go open Jesus Calling for today’s date and will then read the next installment of “Grief Bites: A New Approach to Growing Through Grief” in my Bible App. If you’re a runner (I’m decidedly not but I have friends who are 🤷🏻‍♀️) you fuel up before a long run. You make sure your body has the energy to make it through the distance you plan to overcome. For particularly difficult races, you stop at intermittent fueling stations and give your body hydration and a few more calories to have what it takes to complete (but not so much that you vomit.)

Today is a race; every day is a long-distance triathlon now. It’s not a race where speed is the goal, but endurance. Making it through another whole day without running out of fuel is paramount to anything else I’m trying to do right now. If I don’t wake up and fuel my faith in the morning, I will wind up in a heap of misery before dusk. This isn’t to say I don’t shed tears, but that I will be able to mold the grief into something that looks, and sometimes even feels, like strength. The only way I can do that is by starting my day off with reminders that I am not in this race, on this course, alone even when no people are here.

Hebrews 12:1
Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us

2 Timothy 4:7
I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.

Isaiah 40:31
but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.

James 1:12
Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him.

Psalm 119:31
I run in the path of your commands, for you have broadened my understanding.

Romans 5:3-4
Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.

1 Corinthians 9:24-26
Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. Therefore I do not run like someone running aimlessly; I do not fight like a boxer beating the air.

And Then There Are the “Good” Days

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June 13th, 2023

So, today was not a terrible day. I hesitate to say there are “good” days because, although I know there will somehow be good days again one day, my “good” days don’t quantify in the same way others would, I’m sure. Mine are more like, “It wasn’t a really bad day so that means it must have been a “good” day.” It was a “good day for me, for this time in my life.” And that’s enough.

I didn’t leave the house except to go walk at the SportsPlex. I did 2 laps today and was headed into a third when I got a call saying “Can Lillian and I come over?” And I needed to be there before they could get there so I hightailed it back to my car. You don’t say no to the best part of your day. 💗

I got home and took a quick shower before my kiddos arrived. They stayed for a couple of hours and then I did some probate paperwork and sent that in. (Side note: I don’t care if you’re 25, write a will; you can always adjust it later as life brings changes and you will have the choice of who receives your belongings, not the State.) Then I rested a bit and got up off the couch to do some more 15 minute “hot spots” in my house. You know, the surfaces that seems to be magnets for clutter to convene and stay awhile. I work on something for fifteen minutes and then I try to do something else for a little while so that it doesn’t seem overwhelming. I know that when the house is back in order, I’ll feel a little more calm, a little more peace.

As I clear these areas and find proper spaces for things, I come across quite a few things that are surrounded by memories of Scott. It’s been over a month and I still find it hard to believe this is forever…that it’s real. Sometimes I laugh a little. Sometimes I cry a little. And sometimes I just try to keep working, finish my fifteen minutes.

Life is a little like that. Sometimes we laugh. Sometimes we cry. And sometimes we just want to get on through to the next part. We could be missing a lesson or a blessing by rushing through to the next part.

The days don’t pass very quickly right now so I don’t feel like I’m swiftly sailing past anything at all but, maybe in my fog and in my focusing on just getting through it, I’m not getting something I am going to need to learn from this. I feel like the only real thing I can learn in this scenario is how to walk with someone else through it. And how to lean on God in it.

So, in addition to my 15 minute clean ups next time, I’m going to add in some 15 minute meditations times. I would say prayer times, and I try, but prayer words still just aren’t coming easily. It’s a focus and concentration thing. I don’t know; since I seem to be able to write but not put things into words audibly, I may need to start prayer journaling. Maybe I can get my words 𝘵𝘰 𝘎𝘰𝘥 to come out in a sensible manner that way. A beautiful friend reminded me, though, that I don’t need to be able to actually come up with words to pray because I have a built-in intercessor named Holy Spirit.

I think that finding a way to commune with God in times when it is difficult to even concentrate is important. Some people have prayer closets or war rooms. Some sing in the shower or read in the bed. It doesn’t matter how but that you are taking the time to try to connect to your power source (speaking to myself here.) If your battery is not plugged in, it can’t charge for when it’s not connected to power source the next time.

My counselor gave me an “assignment” to listen to at least thirty minutes of praise and worship music per day. Normally this would be easy but right now, it has its harder days, too. (See yesterday.) The fact that I’m goal oriented means that I’m going to hit that mark every day so that’s a good thing. For tonight, my spiritual batteries are charged and I’m ready to charge up the physical ones for tomorrow.

Father God, may my angels surround me as I wake tomorrow and fight off spirits of darkness, anxiety, and despair throughout the day. Tomorrow will be another “good day,” in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Choosing Self-Care

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June 13th, 2023

Today is going to be a better day. ⛅️

I just decided.

I confess that I cannot just 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦 every day but, so far, this morning, I feel better.

I did a few clean-up, organizing tasks yesterday. All of them were admittedly fifteen minute tasks, or less, and I rested probably for an hour or so in between each one. I will try to do some more today.

Chaos makes us feel chaotic, doesn’t it?

I’m in between sizes of clothes right now so I cannot really get rid of any to “thin the herd”, so to speak. I’m was trying to lose weight, since January, and I was succeeding fairly well. Between Jan 1st and May 9th (four and a half months) I had lost 30 pounds. In the last thirty-four days I have lost a total of 15. This current “method” is not a weight loss plan I recommend, but it is overwhelmingly effective. So…getting rid of clothes isn’t really an option right now because I have no idea where things go from here.

In fact, the biggest problem I face of all is that I have no idea where anything goes from here. My weight. My future. My finances. My daily activities. My security. My secrets and woes and joys and fears and every day silly stories. My TikToks and text messages, the ones that I knew would make him laugh. More than once…more than several times…I’ve picked up my phone and then realized no one would answer back if I called or sent a message. Sometimes I send them anyway. And then I hear his phone buzz with an incoming message sound from his nightstand on the other side of my bed.

But I will not let the uncertainty and the sadness consume me today. Not today. I cannot just stop feeling sad but I can get up, first thing this morning, and go for a walk. Then I can go take a shower. Then I can do one of the organizing things. A small one. And I can keep handing over the weight of the loss to Jesus. Hour by hour. For His yoke is easy and His burden is light.

When Jesus talked about his yoke and burden in this passage, He was talking about the burden of self-righteousness and legalistic law-keeping. Because we cannot possibly keep up all of the laws that the Pharisees demanded without being (and feeling like) failures. Jesus only requires that we give Him our burdens (and sins) and He carries them for us. Today, I know He also means that He can carry the weight of my worries and fears so that I don’t have to. He carries them easily because He already knows what occurs on the other side of these challenges. When I hand them over to Him, it means I’m trusting Him with the outcome.

Okay, so, let’s be real about this…human real. I’m gonna give Him the worries and say (out loud) “Jesus, I trust You.” Out loud because my words carry power. Death and life are in the power of the tongue. Proverbs 18:21. And James 3:3-6 says that a small bit under the tongue of a large horse can make it go wherever you want it to go, a small rudder makes a huge ship turn wherever you want it to go, even when the winds are strong, and that a small spark can start a huge forest fire. Such is the power of the tongue. But I digress…(as usual.)

I’m going to say, out loud, “I trust You with this, Jesus.” And then the human part of me that wants to be sure I’ve got things “in control” is going to quietly slide it back to myself multiple times today before I reroute and give it back again. Ideally, per the “practice makes perfect” ideology, the more I give it back, the longer I’ll leave it there each time.

Few of us just drop things at the foot of the cross and leave them there, walking away whistling a happy tune. Most of us will go back multiple times (especially when God doesn’t instantly make it all better) and swipe it back (“Swiper, NO swiping!!!” – Dora the Explorer) while helplessly and fruitlessly attempting to “fix” things ourselves. But the longer we leave it and the more we do see Him “fix” it, in His timing, the more faith we gain in His process. In His omniscience. In His strength to sustain us.

Today I am focusing (as well as my brain is capable of focusing these days) on turning things over to Jesus. I’m concentrating on deliberately telling Him that I trust Him to handle all of the “I don’t knows” that are plaguing me constantly right now. I’m purposefully giving them over to Him and mentally focusing on the things I do know, the blessings I do have right now.

I am blessed and highly favored by the King of Kings. What shall man do to me when He is by my side? (The LORD is on my side; I will not fear. What can man do to me? Psalm 118:6) ♥️

Mountains & Molehills

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June 12th, 2023

If the mountain seems too big today, then climb a hill instead.

Today is an anthill kind of day. Not even the big kind with a huge underground network. A tiny one. Or a molehill.

I need to wash my hair today. But I’m not going to do it. I need to move furniture back to how it was before people started coming to give condolences about my husband. Not doing that either. I need to…I need to…I need to…to scream, but to do it somewhere that won’t cause the neighbors to call 9-1-1.

I need answers. I need peace. I need things to slow down and speed up at precisely the same time. I need…I need…I need…I need my husband back.

I almost didn’t even bother getting out of bed today but I had a counseling appointment. Thank goodness it was Telehealth and COVID taught us how to pretend to be dressed while online. Then I did do the dishes in the sink. I did tidy up the bathroom counters. I did clear away clutter from the sofa table. And then I quit, exhausted. I q-u-i-t, QUIT.

If only he’d come back, I’d clean every room, every corner, every baseboard, every nook & cranny. If only…If only…If only…

Ah, so there you are, dark, Bargaining stage of grief. What would I give up if someone could bring him back home to me? You drive a hard bargain but I’d give up anything, anything at all. I can even think of a few people I’d trade you but the worth won’t be the same as what you’d be returning to me…you could have them anyway, though, if you want…

Oops…yes, now you’ve seen it. Ugly. I don’t like Ugly. God doesn’t like Ugly. But Ugly and Angry usually show up together, often after Bargaining gives a flat-out NO on any very reasonable swaps. Angry is a real character and he appears to have a conjoined twin, attached at the hip, Ugly. Because hurt people hurt people, right?

And so, on these days, I stay alone. Angry and Ugly are typically teamed up with a whole entourage of Why’s and a gaggle of How Could’s. When all of them are together, boy, are they the perfect storm. You can scarcely breathe while being sucked into the tornadoes that spin in and out of this enormous gale. Time to batten down the hatches. Board up the windows. Sandbag the doors. Hole up in the basement, where they can’t reach you.

This is just another part of it, folks…the Grief. Not a pretty part, mind you. I don’t tell you this to excuse my awful attitude. I’m telling you so that, if you run into this storm one day after mine has passed, you can call me and I’ll either stay away or come hide in the basement with you (your choice.) But you aren’t in trouble for the fact that Ugly got a hold of you. She’s a ferocious, evil beast. (Pretty sure I’ve met her, personified, before…oh, no… See? There she is again. Ugly. Hateful thing, isn’t she?)

Listen, God made me human. He made me in His image but my emotions didn’t follow suit. I have to force myself to turn on the praise & worship music right in the middle of these stormy days. I don’t want to…I don’t want to…I don’t want to…so there.

But being a follower of Christ takes discipline. It means even when you want to slam the door and stick your tongue out, you don’t. Because it’s disrespectful. So, I turn the music on…it can just play in the background. It’s on but I don’t have to listen….

And there it is. I’m not actively listening but it is actively seeking me. “You’re a good, good Father. It’s who You are. It’s who You are. It’s who you are. And I am loved by you. It’s who I am. It’s who I am. It’s who I am. And You are perfect in all of Your ways…”

My mind (or Angry & Ugly tousling around up there) wants to scream “NONE OF THIS IS PERFECT! NONE OF IT! It wasn’t supposed to be like this! WHY???”

…”because You are perfect in all of Your ways. Lord, You are perfect in all of Your ways. Yes, You are perfect in all of Your ways to us….”

I still don’t really want to listen. I’m stubborn. I’m hurting. I’m lost. I’m so very sad. I don’t want to hear that these ashes can be turned into something beautiful.

Where is my “Strength for Fear” that You give out with the “Beauty for Ashes” combo? How about the “Peace for Despair?” Aren’t all of those a package deal? When do they turn up? Can’t I just have them now? Like a child having a tantrum when I don’t get ice cream before dinner, I want to lay down and kick my arms and legs. Because, like a child, I don’t know how to process this kind of loss, this kind of pain, this kind of anger.

But I’m not a toddler. I’m spiritually old enough to know that if He promises the ice cream after I take five more bites of the dreaded brussel sprouts…He’ll come through. Only thing is, with this part, He won’t tell me how many more bites so that I can count down backwards. Am I almost there? ‘Cause people keep saying I have a looooooong way to go. That the “ice cream” won’t be here for years.

I’m not going to “get over” losing Scott. I loved him and he will always be a part of me. But I do not have to wait to “get over” him in order to receive peace, to be given strength, to see the beauty traded for ashes. But I do have to look for them.

The longer I refuse to seek them, the longer they’ll be hidden. Praise & worship music is one way to seek. Even if I don’t want to listen, and I’m being stubborn and ugly about it, it seeps in through and around my sandbags and boarded up windows.

If I am grieving and have Ugly and Angry hanging on like Velcro, God gets it. He may not like it but He gets it. He intricately knows the emotions inside of us and He knows how Satan will try to use them against us. I’m not going to invite Guilt and Shame over for the party. I’m going to accept that these reactions are normal for humans and then I’m going to concentrate on the fact that I don’t like them and really don’t want to hang out around any of these stormy emotions.

Praise & Worship music is a vehicle. It drives me back to safety. If you find yourself stuck in the storm and need a lift, hop in. Your chariot awaits.

“Your praise will ever be on my lips…” 🎶

“I will praise the Lord at all times. I will constantly speak his praises. I will boast only in the Lord; let all who are helpless take heart. Come, let us tell of the Lord’s greatness; let us exalt his name together.”
‭‭Psalms‬ ‭34‬:‭1‬-‭3‬ ‭NLT‬‬

One Month Down…Forever to Go

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June 10th, 2023

Today is the 10th. Scott left me on this earth to go to his Heavenly home on the 10th. So it’s been a month today.

Today is my nephew, Judah’s, birthday. He would have turned 15 today.

And time doesn’t make any sense. My sister said this on the night Judah died and I thought I understood what she meant but I didn’t, not fully. Now I really get it.

All at once, literally at the same time, it feels like they’ve been gone for so very long and yet I cannot believe it has been this long already.

The very first day it felt like every five minutes I would look at my watch thinking hours must have passed…but no, just another five minutes. The days have felt like they took forever to pass…and then, again, at the very same time, it felt like they were speeding by as I realized how much time we had already spent here without them.

I miss my husband. I miss his smile, his laugh. I miss him making me laugh. I miss reaching across the bed and feeling him laying there. I miss I love yous and hugs and kisses. I miss being told I am the most beautiful woman he’s ever known, inside and out. I miss being told I am the one and only true love of his life. I miss adventures. I miss dinners and breakfasts and lunches together. I miss movies and snacks together. I miss…just being together, all of the time.

I’m not stronger than I thought I was. God is still as strong as as I knew He was, thankfully. I’m 100% NOT doing this on my own. I couldn’t. I’m doing it with family, friends, and the strength that comes from Jesus. I’m doing it with the Holy Spirit whispering to my heart each day that I don’t have to do it all alone.

Later today I will go see my sister in Tallahassee. We will have dinner and watch a movie together in her living room. I’m sure we will cry. Maybe we will find something to laugh about a little. We will comfort each other and we will grieve together again.

Scott and I spent two weeks with her and my brother-in-law right before we came home for Scott’s surgery, as we were all reeling from the loss of sweet Judah. Lively, colorful, noisy, wonderful Judah. There will be hard things about going there because Scott and I were so sad together then, but he held me up through my trying to hold my family up. The last time I was there, he and I were together, inseparable, as usual, and we didn’t have any idea those would be some of the last times. And it will be Judah’s birthday. Scott and I should have been going up there together to be with Julie and Mike for this day, but now we’re not.

Don’t take the memories you are making for granted, even the sad ones. They are memories worth keeping and cherishing. I’m not going to remember how sad we were as much as I will remember how he always loved and supported me. He was always there. And now he’s not. But we had so many magnificent memories I can look back at now and smile because we were together and, for that, I am thankful.

My life was enriched by the fact that he loved me, wholly and unconditionally, and just about as perfect as it could have been for as long as I knew him. I’ll never regret one moment of that perfection. And I am thankful to know that he never had any regrets either. We only always wished we had been able to meet each other sooner and love each other longer. It’s a blessing to have had that feeling. It was a blessing to have been loved, so very much and so very well, by him. ♥️ I love you, Scott. I miss you every single moment of every single day. See you later, my love. ♥️

And time still doesn’t make sense because I don’t know how much longer that will be.

There is Always a Reason to be Grateful…Search for it.

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July 10th, 2023

I am thankful for my boys who always rally around me in times of great stress, loss, difficulty, and also celebration.

I am thankful for my adopted daughters. My sons aren’t married to them yet but these girls have already been mine for a long time.

I’m thankful for my sweet and, yes, adorable granddaughter who, I will say again, is good medicine in times of heartache.

I’m thankful for a wonderful extended family who is always wrapped around me when I need them the most.

I am thankful for in-laws who love me and whom I dearly love.

I am thankful for friends, so many amazing friends, who surround me with love and support.

I am thankful for my home and that it has always been a safe haven, a place of comfort and beautiful memories.

I am thankful for Jesus, my savior, and for the assurance that the name of the Lord is a strong tower where the righteous run into it and they are saved. He is my refuge and my strength. He is my portion forever. I speak the name of Jesus, plead the blood of Jesus over all circumstances in my life knowing His protection and His mercy are never ending and new every morning. It is now a new day and I am grateful for that.

There are so many other things to be thankful for. I’m looking for them every day, even on the ones that feel unbearable and when my troubles overwhelm me. I praise you, Father, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. I praise You for blessings and mercies, favor and sparks of joy. I praise You for sunrises and sunsets that remind me that another day will follow this one. I praise You for being Alpha and Omega, beginning and the end, omnipotent, omniscient, and omnipresent. Thank you. ♥️

Here is a photo of just one of the things I’m thankful for…sleepy snuggles. 💕

Tater Tots & Tears

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June 9th, 2023

Well, today it was tater tots.

There is no planning anything during deep grief. You can’t really plan to go anywhere or do anything because the emotional roller coaster is constantly twisting and turning, going up and down at lightning speed.

I may be in the numb place, feeling dry and like things that “should” make me cry aren’t. I’m in the house where his memory is here, everywhere. But then I go to the grocery store and have to pull it together over tater tots (one of Scott’s favorite sides.) It was probably interesting to watch my face as I tried to hold back the floodwaters and the panicky feeling that tends to accompany the waterworks. Maybe no one was looking, engrossed in their own grocery list musings.

I may be already feeling close to the edge and avoid going anywhere because I don’t want to fall apart around a bunch of strangers and then, as I sit home, I go back to unfathomable levels of anger and then back to numb.

And so then you plan trips to the grocery store (or wherever) when it seems least likely that many people would be there. Like 10:30 on a weekday morning. (Of course, every checkout is maxed out when you walk in the door but you’re already there so you resolve to forge ahead and get this over with.)

There are still Godwinks in the storms, though. Today, just as I was thinking about tater tots, a long-time, very dear friend texts me just to say “Thinking about you this minute and wanted to tell you how much I love you. 💕” That’s the definition of a Godwink. I am about to drown in a puddle of my own mind’s making and God speaks to a friend, just as it happens, who hears the call and sends me a message to let me know that she is thinking of me and loves me. And in turn, the perfect timing of that message reminds me thst God does, too, and He is sending me tangible proof through the people who surround me, even when they’re not physically there.

You could say that it was a coincidence but there are no accidents. This is not the first time (in this tragedy nor in other difficult times in my life) when such a divine “coincidence” occurred. I daresay it happens quite regularly.

So 👀 LOOK 👀 for the Godwinks. You may miss them if you’re not paying attention. They’re there if you choose to recognize them for what they are. ♥️

Gone Too Soon

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June 8th, 2023

This may be an unpopular opinion and post. I’m okay with that. My intention is not to cause anyone hurt but to respond to some who have said that God took Scott too soon.

Edited to add:
***Understand that I am so, so very grateful for every single person who cares about me and has come to comfort me, pray for me, give words of love and concern, and have poured out love over me in so many ways. This post is not a negative reaction to anyone’s remarks. Not at all! I am so thankful for each and every one of you. I know that anyone who has said this was truly trying to understand my pain and how something like this happened, as am I. We don’t always understand why things happen. This is just about Biblical truth, based on scripture, regarding one of the things we tend to think when going through tragedy and I’m seeking to help people who don’t understand God’s true heart. Please accept it in that regard. ♥️

He is gone too soon. He should be here. The details of that will be a story for a later date.

But God didn’t “take him” too soon. God didn’t allow others, people who are hateful, mean, evil, spiteful, hurtful, or criminal to stay here while he “took” my husband away from here. God did 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 it to happen because He gave His people the gift of free choice. You have a choice to love Him or to turn from Him because He gave you that option.

Some of you will be surprised to read this. But I tell you this:

2 Corinthians 4:4

4 Satan, 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥, has blinded the minds of those who don’t believe. They are unable to see the glorious light of the Good News. They don’t understand this message about the glory of Christ, who is the exact likeness of God.

The earth is the Lord’s and everything within it BUT…

We, as humans, invited sin into this world a very long time ago. Does it seem unfair that, although Adam & Eve were the ones who opened the door for sin and Satan to have dominion here, we still have to live through those consequences? Maybe it does sometimes, even to me in my grief at times. But they were humans, like we ALL are; I don’t even know if the temptation would have reeled me in, too. I’m not big on apples but I am big on learning and Satan promised them wisdom.

But if you are raised by an abusive and alcoholic parent, do you have the ability to change the narrative in your own life? You do. Is it harder for you to change that outcome than it would be if you were raised in a loving home with wonderful parents? It is. But some people raised in loving, wonderful homes still change directions, too. I was raised by parents who loved me and yet someone else still caused me grave harm in my childhood, despite where I was raised. We all make decisions about who we will be after evil touches our lives in the most horrifying ways.

How do we do that? By changing the narrative. How do we change it? We make 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘴. God gave us the ability to make choices, to have free will. Many will use those to consistently try to block evil at every turn, to resist the devil so he will flee, to return as much of this earth as possible to the salvation of Jesus. They’re not perfect, but they are daily acting to make a dedicated effort to change this place. I am overwhelmingly blessed to know some of these people and, as specific names come to mind, I will not name them because they are each beautifully humble and would not desire the accolades.

Some of us (this category is me, I readily admit) try to do better, be better, serve better, but find themselves making a lot of mistakes while figuring it out. These are often the ones who seem to always find themselves taking the “hard road.” They allow fear, failure, loss, emotions, heartache, and stress to make choices for them sometimes (and none of those things come from God for the Bible says that God IS good and He IS love; He is incapable of evil.) The results of those choices can be disastrous and wreak havoc on our lives. These people, who still desire to follow Jesus, then pick up the broken pieces each time and constantly rebuild, still trying every day to be better than they were the last…and still sometimes failing. And that is okay. That is why Jesus lived and still lives.

And some people give everything they have, willingly, over to the enemy.

Those people are at fault for the bad things that occur in our world. Sin is at fault. Satan is at fault. If you’re fighting against God because you think he “took” something or someone from you, you’re barking up the wrong tree. He doesn’t want pain and loss for us. He 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 to see His people in pain, just like a loving parent cannot bear to watch their own children hurt.

Jeremiah 29:11

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

God didn’t plan to hurt you. He didn’t plan to hurt me. He didn’t plan to hurt Scott. He didn’t plan to hurt Scott’s parents and our children. There are people who chose to listen to and heed the charms of the devil who caused this.

Drunk driver? Influenced by Satan. Mad shooter? Influenced by Satan. Murder/Suicide spouses? Influenced by Satan. Cancer? Yes, still influenced by Satan because God did not design sickness and disease. Satan causes all manner of things to occur in his strategy to turn God’s people away from Him. God will still be with you, walk beside you, carry you until you are strong enough to walk on your own again, in the seasons of pain – but He didn’t cause it. GOD IS GOOD, ALL THE TIME. AND ALL THE TIME, GOD IS GOOD.

God is my champion, all the time. He is my refuge, my shelter, all the time. He is not the maker of my hurt, but He is the one who soothes it.

I cannot answer all of the questions about the “why” that your heart holds. A good, trusted pastor or wise disciple of Jesus can help with that. They are far more educated in scripture than am I. Seek that wisdom. Don’t be afraid to go ask the questions. Ask them even if you’re angry at God and are expecting that the person you ask will have nothing of substance to relieve the pain. I will pray for the wisdom of whomever you seek to allow God’s own heart, his own heartbreak over your pain and loss, to be conveyed to yours. I will also pray that the hope of Jesus Christ is conveyed to you in the same manner, not even through words but in the likeness of who He is, through His Spirit.

God didn’t take him because He needed another good person on His side of Heaven. He didn’t need “another flower in His garden.” He didn’t need Scott more than I did. God knows that I needed Scott more than He does and so, despite a loss that He did not design, He will teach me and sustain me to function as I work through ways to do this. He does this just as a parent, watching their own child walk through pain and heartache, wants desperately to teach them to start again, to pick up the pieces and keep going, to see them triumph when they realize there was hope all along – even when they couldn’t see it.

Don’t allow an imposter to tell you he is Jesus. The Bible says that Satan is the ultimate deceiver and the father of lies.

And while you’re at it, seeking the Truth, do not let a “religious person” tell you that you are not loved or lovable. I don’t care who you are, what color, creed, religion, sexuality, political affiliation, etc., you are loved in great, indescribable measure by the One who created you and never seeks to harm you. ♥️ YOU ARE LOVED.

John 8:44
You are of your father the devil, and you want to do the desires of your father. He was a murderer from the beginning, and does not stand in the truth because there is no truth in him. Whenever he speaks a lie, he speaks from his own nature, for he is a liar and the father of lies.

2 Corinthians 11:14
No wonder, for even Satan disguises himself as an angel of light.

Ephesians 6:11
Put on the full armor of God, so that you will be able to stand firm against the schemes of the devil.

Revelation 12:9
And the great dragon was thrown down, the serpent of old who is called the devil and Satan, who deceives the whole world; he was thrown down to the earth, and his angels were thrown down with him.

2 Timothy 3:13
But evil men and impostors will proceed from bad to worse, deceiving and being deceived.

Matthew 7:15
“Beware of the false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly are ravenous wolves.

Grief is Crazy…Not You.

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June 6th, 2023

And also, grief is so weird.

I just sat in my driveway and typed a message to a sweet friend who has been a wonderful encouragement to me over the last few weeks. I had just gotten home from the grocery store and remembered I had read her message in the store but I couldn’t reply then (I was trying to focus on not forgetting anything, spoiler alert – I still did).

Anyway, I remembered she had messaged me and didn’t want to forget so I grabbed my phone and typed the message to her before I got out. I felt good writing it because it was about how I felt sparks of joy today. I spent time with my mother-in-law and father-in-law. My mother-in-love and I laughed kind of hard at something we said about Scott. It felt good to be able to do that. And the blessing at the funeral home that I reported on earlier gave me joy, not just because of the money and not needing to use what money I had to pay that bill, but because of the provision. I felt thankful. Blessed.

Then I got out and started unloading groceries and suddenly thought that I should ask Scott to help me with the heavy stuff. (Funny thing is that he hasn’t been able to lift heavy stuff for awhile because of his neck injury but it was a habit spoken to my brain from prior to that.) And then I realized he would never come help me unload groceries ever again. Ever. My boys offer to help anytime they are here and I have unloaded groceries a million times myself when he wasn’t here so it’s not that I’m incapable. It’s that now HE is. And it’s forever. And so there I go, right down the spiral staircase again, bouncing on my head, my butt, my elbow, my knees…just a thrashing, crashing, breaking descent. Right to what feels like the bottom again.

I’ve pulled it together again now, and put away the groceries with my breath still hitching. Now I am back to say how crazy this “thing” called grief is. How it feels like being bipolar: feeling happy and then devastatingly sorrowful and broken just afterwards, swinging like a giant pendulum from one to the other with no warning. Funny thing about a pendulum: you always know that once it swings one way, it’s gonna go back the other.

I like having moments where I’m not feeling such despair constantly but I don’t know if I do like it when it becomes just the ascending part of a roller coaster. Would I rather be sad all of the time? Or is it better to still feel kind of happy sometimes, knowing I may crash and burn again at any minute? Always being on the alert for that? Right now, I just don’t know.

This is yet another part of my journey that I know 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 needs to hear, to know they’re NOT bipolar. To know it is “normal” for this season. And that it’s okay to 100% hate that “normal”… 😢

Just Keep Swimming…

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June 5th, 2023

I curled my hair today.

That may not sound like much. But it is…much.

The day of Scott’s memorial service, I knew I probably 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 try to look presentable, to look pretty even. The service was for him, to say goodbye for now to him, and I should want to look beautiful for anything that was for him.

And if he were here, I so would have wanted to. If we had been honoring him for anything else, I would have taken plenty of time to get ready, dress up, hair & makeup, the whole nine yards, just because I would have been proud to be on his arm, by his side.

But that day, I just couldn’t make myself care. I remember thinking that there should be thunder and lightning outside. It should have been gray and dreary and…just sad outside. Why should I put on makeup when I knew I would cry it off? Why cover the black circles under my eyes when they only gave witness to what I felt? Why do my hair when I hoped that water would fall from the sky in torrents and somehow wind and rain would whisk me away to Oz or some sort of alternate reality where he was still alive and well and laughing? It felt pointless. I felt lost.

I’ve been to the store with, still, no makeup and a horrible pile of hair up on my head. I’ve not cared who saw me. I’ve gone on, done things that needed to be done, completed tasks that were expected of me. But I’ve done them begrudgingly, despite prayer and petition to the contrary.

Today I got up and washed my sheets. I went for a two mile walk. I took a shower and washed my hair. And then, tonight, I curled it.

I don’t want to be sad forever. Oh, I’m still very sad. Scott is everywhere I look. There are memories of him everywhere. But I want to be able to think of him one day and not be fighting off tears. I want to be able to think through happy memories and laugh like I would have if I was reminding him of those memories. And I don’t want to feel this overwhelming, heavy, dark sadness every day, forever.

I know, for a fact, that Scott wouldn’t have wanted that for me. It would make him miserable to see me as I am now, broken. And I know that God doesn’t want that for me. He promised to give me a hope and a future. It’s not the future I had planned, but if God is in the midst of it then it will still have joy one day. My future still holds a promise and the fact that I will see Scott in Heaven one day is not the only thing I should be focusing on.

I have a mission here, a God-given purpose. Somehow, I am still here for a reason.

So I curled my hair today. I tried to be a little bit of the person I usually am today. I can’t promise I’ll keep doing it all the time but I’m going to try, very hard, to remember all of the reasons I have to be thankful, grateful, happy here. And I truly do have so many.

Where there is great love, there is great loss…great grief. But I also have people who will “get in the mud” with me, as one reminded me today. People who will wait for me to be ready to climb out and then push me, pull me, let me stand on their backs to fight my way out of the muck.

And that is something to be grateful for. That is a reason to be happy. ♥️