"The cost of sharing your life with someone worth missing"*

*  - I am indebted to John Pavlovitz for the quote used as my title - read his original article, entitled "The Day I'll Finally Stop Grieving"  here 
If the link does not work, just copy and paste the following address into your web browser's address bar:  http://johnpavlovitz.com/2015/10/31/the-day-ill-finally-stop-grieving/   

 Once deep grief has touched your life, you are never the same again.  You don't "get over it."  It becomes part of you, just like your glasses (you don't always notice them on your face but they are always there)  - always beneath the surface - affecting you to one degree or another.

At first, it is all you can feel.  Wave upon wave upon wave of pain, sadness, anger, anguish, and love - yes, love - for without love there would be no pain, no sadness.  Those waves can last for weeks, even months, with no letup.  Every moment hurts. The pain is intense, indescribable, searing.  Sometimes it feels like your heart is going to burst out of your chest. It literally physically hurts.  You lose sleep.  You re-experience the trauma of the loss, over and over again. It's all you can think about. Everything you see, everywhere you go, every person you meet is somehow a reminder. 

It's not like every single moment is like that.  There are oases, respites or breaks from the suffering, however fleeting they may be.  But at first, there is no respite. 

After a while, there may be breaks from the relentless onslaught.  I truly believe that humans were never created or designed to experience loss of this kind.  We are eternal beings; separation is not something we were meant to cope with. That being said, the mind can only bear so much before it creates breaks - even minor ones - rays of light piercing the gloom. Life has a way of forcing you to pay attention to it ... even if that paying attention is putting one foot in front of the other, looking after someone else, doing household chores, paying the bills, playing music, or exercising ... or something else. And in the midst of that, inexplicably, there can be moments (however fleeting) where you can forget about the loss. For a while.

Sometimes you can laugh.  I mean, really belly-laugh!  (Part of you feels guilty perhaps, but you DO laugh.) Sometimes (and as time goes on, those sometimes become most-of-the-time) you can enjoy the little things you always did. 

Our belle Arielle (1992-2013) ... in 2012

But there is no escaping that loss.  It's there all the time. The expression "time heals all wounds" is not true.  Time might distance you from the intense, constant pain - but there will always be that pain, and at any time (and you never know what will set it off or when) it can flare to be just as bad as the first day, catch you off guard when it does, and leave you breathless and shaking when the wave passes over you. 

Queen Elizabeth II once said, "Grief is the price we pay for love."  I would add that the more intense the love, and the more invested in the other person's well-being you are, the more intense the grief will be when that person is gone from you.  

I'm not saying you won't remember something that they said and laugh along with the memory. Those times will come, and they are precious when they do.  That's all part of the grieving process too.  Even with that happy memory there will be a pang, though, that inescapable fact of their absence.  It becomes part of your "new normal" ... which is essentially learning to live with missing them.

I know all the platitudes people give you to try to make you feel better (and that could be because they are uncomfortable with how deep your suffering is). You know the platitudes I mean: that your loved one is in a better place, or that God needed another angel (I want to punch people who say that!), yada yada.  The fact remains that the person is gone and you can't get them back - so you have to live the rest of your whole life without them.  You don't stop missing them. You don't stop loving them. And that is as it should be.  You'd be a pretty heartless and unfeeling person if you just "got over it."

So the next time (or any time) someone says to you, "You know, it's been ten months, (or ten years, or twenty years) since you lost so-and-so, isn't it about time you moved on?" ... you can know that this person has never lost someone that close.  And you can be grateful that they haven't experienced the kind of pain you have felt.  Nor would you wish that upon them, truth be told. Besides, missing your loved one is definitely not "not moving on."  It is holding them in your heart. It is honouring them the only way you have left - by NOT forgetting them.

The experience of missing them sucks, yes.  Grief is not pleasant.  However - as John (whom I quoted at the beginning of my post) said, grief is "the cost of sharing your life with someone worth missing." It is by far the highest price to pay and still remain alive, but hear me: it should never be anything to be ashamed of, or to be shamed for. Take it from someone who knows. 

If it feels good

"If it feels good," goes the old saying from decades ago, "do it."

Hm.  I remember sermons about the evils of that saying, calling it hedonistic, condoning the love of pleasure rather than of God.  But I think it's all in how you take it.  

Perhaps it's better with a qualifier.  As long as it doesn't disrespect yourself, as long as it has a consequence that builds you up and doesn't eventually destroy you spiritually, physically, or emotionally, you might want to consider the idea that it's a good thing.  

I know people - and I am one of them a lot of times - who stay in unhealthy situations and/or relationships far too long and don't stand up for themselves or don't walk away out of fear of what the other person or people involved might think. Some of those same people are afraid to enter what could be healthy situations or relationships out of fear of being rejected, not fitting in, or just out of habit.  "It's always been this way."  

Sometimes we can get in a rut, you know?  Doing the same things, watching the same TV shows, hanging out with the same people, having the same arguments (er, um, intense discussions).  We spin our wheels and don't allow ourselves to do what feels good for us  -  some call this "novel" idea "self-care!" 

This cool photo was one I found at discoverfrance

Maybe we think that doing something for ourselves is a sign that we're selfish people (or not selfless people).  But it's been my experience that if I don't look after myself, I suffer in the long run.  I become depleted, I run on empty, I run out of emotional gas, I don't have anything left to give yet I insist on continuing to give because it's expected of me - and that's the place where resentment, bitterness, and depression breed.  I know. That's where I lived for decades.  

There's a word that's really popular in evangelical Christian circles - stewardship.  Most people think of that as taking care of the things and people with which or with whom God has entrusted you: family, friends, job, finances, time.  Interesting that "yourself" is not listed - not even thought of.  But God has also given us our selves - and not taking care of ourselves is just as irresponsible as not taking care of our loved ones.  It's like we're taking this huge untapped asset and burying it in the dirt because we're afraid of taking a risk on it.  We've undervalued it.  And someday we may be called to give an account of that.

We need to know in our innermost being that we have value.  Not to others, that's not what I mean.  So many people get their sense of worth from other people and wonder why relationships either are impossible to maintain or unattainable in the first place. It's because the focus is backward.  The primary relationship is with the self.  If we are not comfortable in our own skin, nobody else will enjoy being with us.  Enjoying our own company is the first step to healthy and fulfilling relationships with others.  We can't do that by forcing ourselves to take last place all the time and be miserable as a result.

Taking the time that it takes to nurture ourselves is going to pay off in so many other ways.  Taking risks, learning something new, growing in some way that enhances our selves, this is time well spent and will pay dividends we never imagined.  

What's stopping us from taking those risks?  Today is a great day to start.  If it feels good, if it will build us up and not hurt us in the long run, then let's do it!

Level, Square and True

My husband is building a small shed to house the lawn tractor and a few other, smaller tools.  He's designed it himself, taken his time and carefully laid out the foundation, and invested a lot of energy especially in those first stages of making sure that everything was level and square.  He tested and retested those concrete blocks and the beams he placed on them with his level (okay, can't resist a joke: you know a guy's on the level if his bubble's in the middle), and made minor adjustments in the depth the concrete went into the earth, before ever he screwed in the first screw to the wood. 

It might seem like a lot of trouble to go to, but that extra time and effort is going to be well worth it.  The building will be more sturdy, more reliable, and more long-lasting.  It will withstand everything that the north wind and the snow and ice will throw at it in the winter, and it will protect its contents from the rain during the rest of the year. 

Here's the link where I got this photo

Starting from a level foundation and making sure that all the parts are square - that is, perpendicular to each other and fitting the way they're supposed to fit - will only enhance the function of the shed and turn it into an asset rather than a liability.  

The process is a visual reminder of how to build a life.  Make sure the foundation is level, spend extra time, as much as you need to.  Use tools to measure and be certain that the foundation is square because you'll be building on it - if the foundation is wrong, the whole thing will be crooked.  Think about how it's going to be, plan your escape route (the door) and a way to see out (the window). Frame it out and make sure THAT is square and true. 

"True" is hard to explain - carpenters understand the term. It means that the integrity of the structure is right, that the corners are not just square (that is, coming to a 90 degree angle) but that the framing is in a straight line all the way along, and that both the framing and fitted corners, put together, will support the roof and the walls as a result. 

Plainly put, the building process is a metaphor of life and the foundation in particular, is one of relationship with God - it's the foundation for living life as it really is.  Life needs to be grounded on something that is going to stand the test of time... and relationship with God is that something.  The floor and the framing are relationship with the self.  Nothing external can hang on those for very long unless the framing is True.  Self-care, setting boundaries, letting go of the need to control or look after others to the exclusion of the self - these are good structure for what will eventually be what everyone else sees: relationships with others (the walls).  Top that off with healthy boundaries between self and others (the roof).  That keeps the floor and the framing from getting soggy and rotten (grin) and keeps the tools from rusting.

The analogy is rather loose; I only just thought of this one tonight as I heard my hubby talk about his project.   But I believe that it has merit.  

Happy building. 

Open Up

A friend of mine posted on his facebook wall a video he took of a rare sight: a nest of baby robins.  They felt the vibration of him coming closer - and it activated their "feed me" stance - mouths wide open, bobbing back and forth.  Their eyes weren't even open.  Less than a minute long, the video reminded me of something I had forgotten - not even thought about in a long time.  

Source:   http://www.telegraph.co.uk/earth/earthpicturegalleries/
5213909/Animal-pictures-of-the-week-24-April-2009.html?image=6

"Open your mouth wide, and I will fill it."  (Psalm 81:10)

It's the mental picture of opening up to the source of love, grace, mercy and wisdom in expectation that those needs will be satisfied - that whatever I need will be provided when I need it, if I open myself to the provider of all of those things. And more.  It's a picture of complete trust.  Of vulnerability.  Of hunger.  Of longing.  Of desperation.

The robins instinctively open their mouths in the direction of where the food will come from.  It's just like human babies: when you stroke their cheek, they open their mouths wide and turn their heads in that direction - the "rooting reflex."  It's natural ... they are looking to be fed.  It's extremely linked to survival.  

So with the world of the spirit.  God responds to desperation, to desire, to honesty and trust, to spiritual hunger.  He is the source of fulfillment to those desires that sometimes we can't even name - we just know that we want "more." He put that there within us.  We can fill it with a whole lot of things that will not satisfy in the end, and leave us feeling empty and used. When we finally get to the point of desperation, the invitation is still there.  All we need to do is open up who we are to Him.

Turning a corner

This last little while has got to be the weirdest 3 weeks of my life.

It started the afternoon of April 19.  I was finishing up my shift at work when my manager (my boss' boss) said she wanted to talk to me.  Oh no, I thought. What did I do now?  (I guess old thought patterns are really hard to expunge from the psyche).  

Long story short, she was facing a shortage of team leaders for a short period of time and wondered if I would like to fill in for one of them.  After my jaw stopped dropping open of its own free will, I said I would love to do that! And so she put the wheels in motion for me to start Thursday the 21st (essentially a day and a half later) - the day before Good Friday - until Friday the 29th, a total of 5 working days.  During that week I learned a LOT, and thoroughly enjoyed myself.  Not the "being in charge" part so much as the variety of things, the never knowing what was waiting for me when I got into the office, and the sense of accomplishment I would feel when I had resolved a problem for someone. As a brief "aside" - I had expected to receive immediate respect for having been named as an A-slash (acting for someone else) but it didn't happen.  When it happened was when I rolled up my sleeves and started doing what was expected of me ... while still being myself.  It surprised me to find out that I didn't have to NOT be me to do the job.  Go figure... 

So the Monday afternoon after all this was done, (that would be this past Monday) my supervisor came to see me. "How did you like team leading last week? did you enjoy it?" I did, and told him so - exclaimed that it was so different from what I normally did - but that it was a good kind of different.  So he asked me if I wanted to fill in for him when he was away the next 3 days.  I said, "Sure!" and he just up and let people on the team know.  So the last 3 days I have been fielding different questions from lots of different sources and feeling so incredibly validated by all of it.  It's a weird feeling, one I didn't expect - yes, my name was more up front - but I played more of a 'support' role.

It's like turning a corner when you're flying.

The G-forces are more powerful, and in order to keep from losing altitude you have to speed up - which puts more pressure on the plane.  You need to bank the plane (turn it sideways a bit) when turning - and it means you're tilted with gravity pulling you in one direction.  But the turn is pulling you in the opposite direction (same as when you go around a turn in a car - turning left will make your body be pushed toward the right).  All these forces are at play in order to keep the plane in the air and pointed in the right direction.  But you get where you're going faster - and you get to see everything from a "bird's eye view."  There are no blind hills or blind curves in the air as there are on the ground.  Yet, the potential for more severe personal injury is (at least at first it seems so) greater.  

Still, there is no denying that it is exhilarating - even more so if the passengers are there of their own free will (grin).  

I was told that this process that I am on would open new doors for me; at the time I didn't believe it.  But I am coming to believe that if it wasn't for this journey, these opportunities would never have been presented to me.  It's a humbling thing.

And tomorrow night, I start another new adventure.  In a local church basement, I'll be hosting a meeting of a group of people who will come to share their experience, strength and hope to help each other recover from the obsessive need to control and take care of other people - to their own detriment.  I was such a one... and still have to fight that urge to fix people by imposing my will on them. I showed my hubby a poster with all the patterns and symptoms of codependency (see my page, "What is Codependency?") and he counted all the symptoms and said, "Twenty-four."  Then he read through them to see how many of them he had (I won't say how he did...) 

And then I asked him, "Compare that list to me 'before' I started my journey of healing and 'after.'  What are my numbers?"


"Oh, well - 'before' - you had all 24 things.  And 'after'..." here he paused and counted in his head while looking at the list ... "you have 5."  

I must admit that I really didn't think I had improved THAT much - maybe around 8 - so I was impressed that he thought I only had 5 patterns of codependency left.  

I give the credit to God who has empowered me to get on and stay on this journey.  And He's by no means done with me.  All I AM saying is that God is in the miracle-working business...and this is living proof that I'm turning a corner - and that if it can happen with me, it can happen with anybody.

Fallen From Grace

It's one of the most controversial issues in the Western Church today. Everyone has an opinion on it. People ask me this question every so often when they have objections about Christianity.

What about Jimmy Swaggart? (or Jim Bakker, or --- fill in the blank.)

People who aren't churched or who are disillusioned by Christians can't get past the hypocrisy. People who are Christians generally fall into two opposite camps. Either he's the devil incarnate or he's the most anointed gospel singer/preacher ever to hit the airwaves since Billy Graham. I guess I fall somewhere in the middle, and I suspect Jimmy would too. Jimmy is human. He's no better or worse than you or me.

I'll be honest here. I never used to like to listen to Jimmy's singing - or his preaching. He was too phoney (I thought) in his singing, and he was way too dogmatic when he preached. "Methinks the man doth protest too much," was my comment to myself.

Then, as is the case with many in visible ministry, he fell into the abyss of sexual infidelity. Because he was in public ministry and so vocal against some of the very same things that were now being exposed about him, the media were crazed - like sharks in a feeding frenzy, they could smell blood. The faithful, his followers, were deeply hurt.

When he wept in repentance for his sin before his congregation - I was one of those who wondered if he really meant it or was this just grandstanding. I'd heard him preach before, felt verbally abused, and changed the channel. But this time, for a while I again started listening to him when he talked. I was pleasantly surprised.

Gone was the cocky, judgmental, wag-the-finger-in-the-face style I'd cringed at before. He had learned a thing or two about the depths of God's grace, and he talked freely about it as it pertained to his own life. Humbly. Inside, I nodded. This was better. This was real.

I'm not saying that I agree with everything the man has said or done since. But I'm saying that at least he's real, he's human and he knows it - and it's led him to be more compassionate toward people, and for that reason, I like him a lot better now than I used to.

In fact - and you may tar and feather me for this - I don't believe that Jimmy "fell from grace" when he sinned. And I don't think that he "needed to get saved again." Christians sin. When we sin, (and we will, John said in 1 John), we have a perfect Advocate with the Father.

Jesus never gives up on us.

I've had a look at that expression, "fallen from grace," in the Bible, and it's really not what everyone thinks it is. The term itself appears only once - in the book of Galatians. Galatians was written to people who thought they had to add their observance of religious rituals and rules to what Jesus did for them, in order to keep themselves saved. Paul told them that if they thought they could do that, they had fallen from grace. (In other words, they'd missed the whole point of what grace is: God's UNMERITED favor.)

So it isn't sin that causes a person to "fall from grace." On the contrary, it's rigid adherence to the shoulds and the oughttas - out of a sense of fear of losing what God has so freely given ... if we don't toe the line. Wow. There's a lot of folks in the church - apparently those who think they have this thing in the bag - who have fallen from grace. I have myself, a time or two. Or a hundred.

Thank God He is so patient!

God's grace is so very much more, so much deeper than we can imagine. It covers all sin: every single one, no matter how big or small - past, present and future - of every person who has ever lived, is living now, or ever will live. The extent of it is so great that the Christians of Paul's day were accused of preaching that they could do evil so that good might come of it. Grace permeates everything; it is what makes possible our next heartbeat, our breath. We underestimate its reach, its power, its ability to rescue ... to the uttermost. If the realization of the greatness of God's grace doesn't result in a life filled with gratitude and love back to Him, there's something wrong. We've missed the point.

God loves us - each of us - unconditionally. Imagine that!!
I think Jimmy finally "got it."
I think that we can "get it" too.