Posted in Celebration, Faith, Grief

Kitchens and the Howl of the Not-Yet

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The past months have been marked by much suffering.
 
The pain can be overwhelming.
 
Substance abuse by those we love.
Every kind of loss imaginable from the dang virus.
A very scary diagnosis.
Betrayal.
Unkindness.
A debilitating disease that prevents normal life-function.
Mental illness that doctors are having trouble treating.
The excruciating long and threatening unknown.
 
We find ourselves overwhelmed in the most ordinary of places.
For me, it’s often the kitchen (even when I’m not cutting onions).
 
We cry…
 
How long?
How much?
Why?
Why right now?”
 
I love the holiday season.
 
It’s FULL (even this very strange year).
 
My tree is FULL of ornaments.
My tummy is FULL of food (way too much of it, as my current waistline is showing).
My neighborhood is FULL of lights (it seems even moreso in 2020).
My garage is FULL of empty Amazon boxes, gifts waiting to be wrapped and opened on Christmas morning in the family room.
 
And especially this year…
 
My heart is FULL of
 
gratitude
wonder
hope
love
 
I’m desperate for them. I’m holding onto them with all my might.
 
I like living in the FULL of good things part, not the CRYING part.
 
The period leading up to Christmas morning is commonly known as Advent. It’s Advent right now.
 
Advent speaks to the “howl of the not-yet,” the pleading, the waiting, the yearning, the “crying in the kitchen” part.
 
Advent is NOT Christmas morning.
 
Advent speaks about and grieves broken places that are yet to be healed, questions that have no answer today, and yearning that is unfulfilled.
 
Advent gives a glimpse of fruition at the end of a long season of waiting.
 
Advent says there is suffering and it is real, palpable. But advent also says there is hope, just as real and palpable.
 
Advent says “don’t skip over the suffering. Don’t minimize the heartache. Sit in it, acknowledge it, and feel it.”
 
This is not an easy place.
 
I struggle with Advent.
I do not sit with the grief, acknowledge and feel it.
 
I skip right to Christmas morning, the happy place, where the answer is here and salvation has come, the “FULL in the family room” part.
 
Skipping right to Christmas doesn’t work.
 
It doesn’t take away the pain.
It doesn’t make bad things not happen.
It doesn’t bring true healing.
 
Advent brings healing.
 
It’s the place of truth that speaks to both heartache AND hope, both suffering AND a savior.
 
Right now, there is more than a week until Christmas morning.
 
I think I have some more “kitchen” work to do.
 
Howling.
Waiting.
Questioning.
Grieving.
The Not-Yet.
 
Christmas morning will come soon enough.
 
A baby will be here.
A Savior will come.
What is empty will be filled.
Heartache will be healed.
Yearning will be fulfilled.
What is broken will be repaired.
What we’ve lost will be found.
 
It will be time for the “family room.”
 
But right now, I’m headed to make breakfast.
 
(P.S. I lit my third candle this morning – this time the pink one)
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**thanks to Shauna Niequist, who penned the idea of the “howl of the not-yet.”**
Posted in Celebration, Faith, Grief

I Lit a Candle

I lit a candle this morning.

For the first time.

Not just any candle.

The candle of “Hope” on this first day, this first Sunday of Advent.

It’s a new thing I’m doing this year, the year of all years.
 
The candle of Hope.

Hope.

A simple word.  But not a simple word.

A complex and intricate word.  A pregnant word.

Pregnant?

Yes, pregnant.  The “full of meaning” kind of pregnant.

I’ve been pregnant six times.  Two ended way too soon, loss and grief and confusion permeating my heart.  Four ended at just the right time, joy and life and expectation bursting onto the scene.

Pregnant.

This word.  Hope.  What I felt every single time those two lines appeared on my bathroom counter.

This word.  Hope.

Two times, it ended in a bloody mess.  A bloody mess that brought the end of possibility, the death of the little life that had stopped growing, and abject heartache.

In this particular season of Advent, in all things 2020, it sure seems like I’m sitting in the middle of a bloody mess on my bathroom floor crying.

All I did was open my newspaper this morning.

[One-third of small businesses closed.]

[Numbers in hospitals highest they’ve ever been.]

[Two teenagers dead after Black Friday mall shooting.]

That was just the front page.

In this particular season of Advent, in all things 2020, it’s really okay to be sitting in the middle of a bloody mess on my bathroom floor crying.

It’s why I lit a candle this morning.

NOT because there is nothing to grieve.

NOT because everything is as it should be.

BUT exactly because there is lots to grieve.

BUT exactly because everything is NOT as it should be.

This word.  Hope.  What I felt every single time those two lines appeared on my bathroom counter.

BUT this word.  Hope.

Four times, it also ended in a bloody mess.  But those times, the bloody mess brought the beginning of possibility, the birth of the little life that had grown just enough, and undeniable joy.

Mary.  My favorite pregnant woman.

Young, poor, single.  A nobody.

In a world where her headlines read just like mine.

In a world where there was a lot to grieve.

In a world where everything was NOT as it should be.

BUT in her womb, a baby grew.

Just enough.

AND yes, her pregnancy ended in a bloody mess.

But hope tells me what her Baby tells me as He bursts on the scene.

[I’m right here with you in the middle of your grief.]

[I will put things right and things will be as they should.]

[Take courage, my child.  Prepare your heart for Me.]

It’s why I lit a candle this morning.

HOPE.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in Anxiety, Faith, Grief, Health

Jittery

It’s a jittery kind of morning around here.

I strike up one of those “conversations” with God.

“Principal’s office” god begins his normal barrage.

[WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? Can’t you get your act together? Enough with the anxiety already!]

That familiar UGH swoops in.

[This again? What is wrong with me!?!]

Newly-found voices of “up-in-arms” battle their way to the surface.

[That is NOT the voice of the real and true God. It’s those dang and destructive voices of discouragement and shame, enemies of my soul.]

I clear a just-enough space for a tender, gentle Voice.

[What’s wrong with you, my Sweet? What do you NEED?]

The ping-pongy chitchat heads into full swing.

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[I NEED my son to keep his new job so he can pay his rent.]

[Actually, you probably NEED My wisdom to know how much to help or not help. You know, that whole boundaries thing you’ve been working on for (basically) ever.]

[I NEED this pandemic to be O-V-E-R! Like right now! It’s basically ruining ALL.THE.THINGS along with me always feeling like I’m playing Russian roulette.]

[Actually, you might just NEED a settledness of soul in the waiting, an abiding trust in Me. I really care about you and this and I know how it all feels.]

[I NEED my youngest to come home for the holidays.]

[Actually, you likely NEED to feel your sadness over missing her and confront your own loneliness without her. You NEED to grieve.]

[I NEED our financial situation to be secure.]

[Actually, you undoubtedly NEED to live in today and from a place of provision from my generous heart, instead of that never-ending, life-sucking place of scarcity.]

[GOD, HELP ME! I NEED TO BE OKAY ON THE OUTSIDE!]

[Actually, you NEED to be okay on the inside.]

This time around, I keep quiet and He keeps going.

[My daughter, it’s not going to be having all the OUTSIDE problems solved. More of them will creep up every day. What you “needed” a year ago is completely different than what you will “need” a year from now. It’s always changing.

What you REALLY NEED, however, is the SAME every moment, every day.

You need to trust, to settle, to BE in that “all shall be well” place INSIDE, the place where I dwell.

It’s safe.

Your jitters can rest.

You DO have EVERYTHING you really NEED.]

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And my God will liberally supply (fill until full) your every need according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:19)

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P.S. One thing I do desperately NEED this morning (and any of you who might grace my presence would heartily agree): I NEED A SHOWER! Warm soapy, water, here I come!

Posted in Family, Grief, Motherhood, Thanks

TWINGE

It hits you when you least expect it.

That TWINGE of mom grief.

The lump in your throat, tear in your eye, and melancholy in your mom heart.

It might be something as simple as…
watching your 10-year-old jump in a pile of leaves knowing this might be the last time she feels carefree enough to do so because she is heading into those self-conscious middle school years.

TWINGE.

Or…
your eighth grader asking to stand back-to-back with you so he can prove he has passed you up in the mom/son height race.

TWINGE.

Maybe even…
your newly-licensed driver waving goodbye to you as she backs down your driveway headed off for the very first time EVER alone in the family car.

TWINGE.

How about…
unthinkingly grabbing your son’s favorite cereal in the grocery store a week into his college freshman year? You slowly put it back on the shelf.

TWINGE.

It happened to me today. Again. A sign on the beach I frequent often, one I had never noticed before.

A simple board with words reminding me that I am here, standing 428 feet from the Atlantic Ocean and my 21-year-old is snug as a bug 30 minutes from the Pacific Ocean, almost 3,000 miles away.

3,000.

TWINGE.
TWINGE.
TWINGE.

I stopped.
I stared at the sign.
I sighed.
I teared up.
I wiped my eyes with my shirt.

TWINGE.

That ever-so familiar TWINGE that…

…sparks gratitude for this mom journey I love.

…moves me THROUGH the hard of missing all the good that once was

…takes me TO the good that still lies ahead, waiting for me to enjoy it.

It won’t be long until I feel that TWINGE again.
It will hit me when I least expect it.
But I secretly don’t mind it at all.

Posted in Anxiety, Faith, Family, Grief

How Did You Feel?

How did you feel, LITTLE ANT, the day your world was turned upside-down, the day I moved the huge rock that your whole little life revolved around and was protected by just so I could build a rock wall to line the fence in my yard?

How did you feel?

Maybe you felt…

CONFUSED.  You were scampering along, working hard to take care of your family, happily doing what you were supposed to do.  Suddenly, you found yourself exposed to a world you’d never known.  Maybe you asked yourself, “What the heck just happened?  Why oh why?”  I don’t blame you.  I would feel the same way.

Maybe you felt…

ANGRY.  I know you did because you bit me, at least three times.  I felt it sharply under my pants just moments later.  You know what?  I would bite me too.  Maybe it was all your little self could do to yell, “THIS IS NOT RIGHT!  SEND ME BACK TO THE WAY IT WAS!”

Maybe you felt…

OUT-OF-CONTROL.  After all, life as you knew it had just changed forever.  All those systems that you had put in place to make your little life easier and more predictable blew to bits.  Your formula for how the world works and works well was upended, to say the least.  When I ventured back to check on you, I saw a whole bunch of you just scurrying around, looking like you didn’t know what to do next.

Maybe you felt…

AFRAID.  Who wouldn’t?  I sure would.  Would some giant ant-eater come out of the woods and gobble you up?  Would your life ever look remotely the same as it had before the rock was taken away?  Would your ant family be okay with this new normal?  Would you be able to find another rock?

Maybe you felt…

SAD.  Some of your family and friends were just taken away from you, some never to be seen again and some that you don’t know when you will see again, eat with, play with and work with.  It’s just horrible, my little ant friend.  Just horrible.  It’s not really supposed to be this way and I’m so sorry what happened is putting you through this.  I would just stop right now and cry the tears that are rightfully yours.

Maybe one day, LITTLE ANT, you will have a whole new world, one where you will be working, taking care of your family, busily at peace and full of new adventures.  Yes.  I bet it will happen soon enough.

But for now, my new found friend, I get it.  I get you.

I’m with you and I AM you, more than you will ever know.

God-speed, my LITTLE ANT friend.

 

 

 

Posted in Anxiety, Faith, Family, Grief, Health, Marriage, Motherhood

Which Voice Am I Listening To?

WHICH VOICE AM I LISTENING TO?

Inner Critic:  “You cannot stay on a workout regimen save your life.”

Inner Cheerleader:  “Start with 15 minutes again tomorrow.  You’ve done it before .  You can do it again. ”

Inner Critic:  “Your friends are probably so angry with you because you are not checking in with them as much as you used to.  It’s your fault if they don’t stick around.”

Inner Cheerleader:  “You have had to narrow down how much you are pouring out into people for your own well-being.  You’ve done that so that you can be a better friend.”

Inner Critic:  “You should NOT spend so much at the grocery store.  You need to stick to a list.”

Inner Cheerleader:  “It costs just a bit more to eat healthy, which has been a goal for you and your family.  Keep up the good work!”

Inner Critic:  “I can’t believe you are so racist?”

Inner Cheerleader:  “You are learning to listen to those who are not like you.  You will grow and change.  You always have.”

Inner Critic:  “Why do you tell people you have a good marriage?  You just had another fight with your husband.”

Inner Cheerleader:  “Look how far you have come from the early days.  You’ve seen how sometimes conflict brings closeness.  You have helped so many other couples because you can admit you struggle too.”

Inner Critic:  “You will never get to those boxes in the basement that need to be organized.”

Inner Cheerleader:  “You have been sorting through many things in your life, not all of them visible to the outside world.   You will get to it when you are ready.”

Inner Critic:  “You know that cookie you ate?  You blew it again.”

Inner Cheerleader:  “You know that cookie you ate?  Good for you for showing yourself it’s not about perfection, but about grace.”

Inner Critic:  “You didn’t set good boundaries again with your kids.  When will you get this right?”

Inner Cheerleader:  “Being a mom is a hard job, no matter how old your kids are.  Boundaries are tricky and complicated and you are really doing what you think is right in each different situation.  Also, you are really good at saying you are sorry when you blow it.”

Inner Critic:  “Why do you even bother to give advice?  To share your heart?  To try to make a difference?”

Inner Cheerleader:  “You don’t do it because you have it all together.  You do it because you are broken too and it’s in this broken place that we all heal each other.”

WHICH VOICE HEAPS SHAME AND DESTROYS?
WHICH VOICE WHISPERS GRACE AND BRINGS HEALING?

WHICH VOICE AM I LISTENING TO?

 

 

 

 

Posted in Anxiety, Faith, Grief, Health

What Do You Want From Me?

I got real with Jesus just now.

I angrily pleaded, shouting in my mind, WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME ANYWAY?

His gentle answer surprised me.

You have it all wrong, backwards in fact. It’s the question I’ve been waiting to ask you. What do YOU want from ME? What do YOU need? As a mom? As a wife? As a friend? As a woman? As a human? What do YOU need today?

Really, Jesus? Really? Cause I have a whole list. You ready?

I’m tired. Tired of holding it together. Tired of the extra work. Tired of the mental load. I NEED STRENGTH.

I’m confused. Not sure what to do in this new normal I find myself in. I NEED WISDOM.

I’m irritable. Emotions flying off the wall and out of my mouth. Cranky. I NEED PATIENCE.

I’m sad. Sad that so much good has been taken away. I’m really sad. I NEED JOY.

I’m afraid. It’s scary out there and even here in my own head. I NEED PEACE.

I’m discouraged. Everywhere I turn, it seems like bad news is being shouted loudly. I NEED HOPE.

This time around, His gentle answer did NOT surprise me, because it’s been buried deep in my heart for SO long, just waiting to emerge.

I’ve got all of this IN SPADES for you.
Truth be told, I AM ALL OF THIS.

I am STRENGTH.
I am WISDOM.
I am PATIENCE.
I am JOY.
I am PEACE.
I am HOPE.

There is plenty of ME to go around. I will give YOU all that YOU need today, because what YOU really need is ME.

Posted in Faith, Grief, Sabbath

What Do We Do With the Space In Between??

Now Mary Magdalene and another Mary kept vigil there, seated opposite the tomb. Matthew 27:61
It’s not Good Friday.
It’s not Easter Sunday.
It’s just Saturday. The space in between.
What do we do when…
We’ve lost our job AND don’t have a glimmer of the next?
Our kids are grown AND our hearts wonder what comes after?
We’ve gotten the diagnosis AND there’s still no “good course of action” from our doctor?
Our marriage is over AND we don’t know if we’ll ever be truly loved?
We’ve filed for bankruptcy AND we still can’t give up our life’s dream?
We’re sequestered at home AND we have no idea when this pandemic will truly end and we will be safe to venture out?
Our Savior is dead AND it’s still Saturday.
What do we do with the space in between?
WE GRIEVE, whether wailing out loud or whimpering into our pillow
WE QUESTION, possibly shouting to the sky or shushing our inmost fears and doubts
WE SIT SILENT, perhaps eyes wet with tears or as a stunned bird gathering strength
WE WAIT, living the tension of the known past but the unknown future
WE WATCH, expectantly yet with trepidation
and mostly…
WE HOPE, for we long to believe that what lies ahead is somehow richer because of what lies behind
WE HOPE in this place of rest. SHABBAT.
WE HOPE in this place of peace. SHALOM.
Yes. It’s just Saturday…still Saturday! The space in between.
Hear this my soul, my friend: REST In PEACE today!
SHABBAT SHALOM!
Posted in Anxiety, Faith, Family, Friendship, Grief

Comfort, Comfort My People

US: We’re all a little afraid, God? Ok, some of us a lot afraid. Most of us are somewhere between freaking out and totally Zen, depending on the day, the hour, the moment. What are we supposed to do?

GOD: COMFORT, COMFORT MY PEOPLE.

US: You mean we’re not supposed to tell them not to be afraid?

GOD: COMFORT, COMFORT MY PEOPLE.

Don’t tell them not to be afraid. HELP them not to be afraid!

US: How should we do that?

GOD: You already are in so many ways, and I’m so grateful for that.

When you answer the phone and cry with a friend who has lost her job, YOU ARE.

When you drop a roll of paper towels off in mailbox for someone who is running short, YOU ARE.

When you hold your kids close who are now having nightmares, YOU ARE.

When you order a pizza from a restaurant who wonders if they are going to make it (and add a few dinners to go), YOU ARE.

When you pray for your coworker whose mom is in the hospital (and tell them that over and over and over), YOU ARE.

When you put stuffed bears in your windows for kids to see as they walk by, YOU ARE.

When you drop a note for your elderly neighbor, asking if they need anything, YOU ARE.

When you keep your distance if you’re out and about, yet greet people kindly, YOU ARE.

When you have a video conference call with your family to celebrate your son’s birthday, YOU ARE.

When you listen to your spouse’s rant about all the scary things that are going on inside her, YOU ARE.

When you collectively gather on the internet with your faith community and remind each other of God’s tender care, YOU ARE.

When you hold another’s heart carefully and tenderly, allowing for all the feels, YOU ARE.

US: Really? That will HELP them? That will HELP me? Not to be so afraid?

GOD: Yes. Yes. COMFORT, COMFORT MY PEOPLE.

Posted in Faith, Grief

What am I Doing About My Grief? And Yours?

In these unprecedented times, I have been asked over and over again, “What are you doing about ______________?”

I’ve been asked about food prep, my mental health, my routine, church, etc.

Because of this, I want to offer short videos answering those questions over the next several days, weeks, etc.

I plan to give you practical HELP and glimmers of HOPE as we navigate our new normal together.  I promise to sprinkle lots of HUMOR throughout as well.

Today, I am answering the question, “What am I doing about my grief?  And yours?”

JOIN ME AND FIND OUT.  (I know you have the time hahaha)

CLICK HERE!!!