Twice Blessed

Today is a day of remembrance for me. Thirty-one years ago, I married my first husband, Terry Benson. The memories of that day are happy if a little bittersweet. In sixteen days, we will note the 13th anniversary of Terry’s death.

Terry and I loved each other very much. We laughed, cried, fought and loved a lot over the 18 years we had together. We watched our kids grow into teens and enjoyed their activities both together and separately. I loved him so much that I struggled with how to let him go

If you have never experienced widowhood, it’s hard to explain the emotions that go with it. There’s the obvious loss of the person. But, there is also a loss of identity. I had been part of a couple for so long and it was hard to be “just me” again. I was not longer Terry’s wife. So, I took refuge in being Zac and Gracie’s mom. I missed all of the things that I had come to take for granted. No longer would Terry drive me to work and drop me off at the front door. He was no longer there to pack my lunch. When I got really irritated at work, I couldn’t call and hear him tell me it would be okay. When the kids activities conflicted, I had to choose which one would have to go it alone or figure out how to be two places at once. When the car broke down or had a flat, I now had to deal with it. I had to figure out what bills had to be paid and when. And, I had to figure out how to sleep at night without the sound of his breathing.

I managed the life of a widow for almost 10 years. I thought I was pretty well adjusted and capable as a single adult. I had even learned to enjoy life again. And then love came knocking. Love in my fifties was a bit different that in my twenties. We both had a history and the baggage that goes with that. We had different experiences from our previous marriages and quite honestly, different expectations because of that. And, we had five children who all had an opinion.

As I admitted my love for Tim, my new husband, I had to question how I could love both men so deeply. I struggled with feeling like I was cheating on Terry. Even though he had been dead for almost a decade, my heart still ached to hear his voice. I had promised to love him until “death do us part” and I had yet to release my heart from that promise. As well as I thought I had handled my grief, there were lots of things that I had never addressed. I had buried my depression with activity. I was so accustomed to “putting on a brave face” that I almost forgot what it was to be honest about my feelings. So, ten years later, I was in counseling trying to sift through all of these emotions.

I am still amazed at how deeply I love now. Tim is very gracious and we share many sweet memories of Terry together. I am so grateful that he is not threatened by my memories. God allowed me the double blessing of loving completely not once, but twice. I will never forget the life that Terry and I shared. I will tell our grandson, Joshua Terry about his Papa Terry when he’s older. And I will continue to be grateful for both of my husbands. God has truly blessed me in so many ways

 

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“But those who trust in the LORD will find new strength. They will soar high on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not faint.” Isaiah 40:31

Lonely vs Alone

I’m an introvert. I draw energy from being alone.  I need time to process information.  Interacting with people, whether family, social or strangers results in my need to withdraw  and to spend time alone to re-energize. Small talk and pointless conversations are exhausting to me.  It doesn’t take loads of alone time for me to recharge.  Just a few minutes in the evening or a Saturday morning just “piddling” in my office will suffice.

An extrovert won’t always understand the need for “alone” time. Extroverts often equate being alone with loneliness.  Being alone doesn’t have to be lonely.  Loneliness is painful and sad.  Depression and remoteness are the results of loneliness.  Alone time is energizing and breeds creativity and calm.  Being alone allows the introvert the opportunity to process the days events, the ability to download and file away the day’s emotions and make necessary decisions.

I have been lonely.  I was that person  who seemed to have it all together, but would eat take-out in the driveway rather than face the quiet of the house.  I am the one who spent entire weekends in bed.  Sleep filled the loneliest times.  I’ve done the things that had to be done on my own, because that was required.  I’ve sat through numerous  family and social events all alone, surrounded by happy couples.  I’ve been forgotten on the way to a family funeral because everyone had someone else to consider and besides,  I’m very capable.

For ten years, I was the lonely person coping with doing most things alone.  A few years ago, I was rescued from the loneliness.  I have a partner in my husband.  I believe we bring out the best in each other.  There are still things that I have to accomplish alone.  And there are days that my extrovert husband questions my need to be alone.  But, I’m no longer lonely.  I refuse to be the lonely person in the midst of the couples.  I can admit that I don’t have it all together and trust that there is someone upon whom I can depend.  I am no longer lonely.

“God said, “It’s not good for the Man to be alone; I’ll make him a helper, a companion.”   Genesis 2:18  MSG

 

 

 

 

Struggles

I have begun and stopped at least a dozen posts.  There’s so much I want to say, but the thoughts seem incomplete and unimportant.  I struggle with what to say, what to share.  I see so much around me, both good and not so good.  But, putting the words around those moments has proven difficult.

I watch friendships that come and go for so many reasons.  I don’t think all relationships are meant to last forever. There are some people that come into our lives for a season and then we move on in different directions.  What I’m seeing, though, are relationships that are coming apart because there are so many conditions that are set forth.  The most common condition:   “I can’t spend time with you if he/she will be there”  or the more definitive “You have to choose, it’s me or him/her.”  But the most interesting spin on these conditional friendships is that the conditions are usually not reciprocal.  The same person that forces the choice also requires unconditional acceptance of all of his/her own relationships.

I see snap judgments made with very little knowledge of the circumstances.  It’s easy to jump to the obvious conclusions.  It’s much harder to look through the  details and find out the circumstances that surrounded the event or person.  Not all information that is provided through the news or social media is complete or even correct.  I remind myself that a cup of salt and a cup of sugar look a lot alike, but they impart very different results.  It’s time to stop assuming everything is at face value and look deeper.

I realize how easy it is to forgive and forget a “pet” sin.  Adultery, promiscuity, little white lies, petty theft are easily excused and often expected by the majority of the population.  But, make a mistake or forget something that is involved with one the “causes of the day” and expect be hung out to dry.  Political correctness, bullying, gun control are all examples of causes that get a lot of attention very quickly.  One misstep and you are toast.

I mourn the loss of discipline in the home and schools.  Where are the strong parents that created strong homes to provide the framework for successful children?  Instead, we have given rise to the “helicopter” parent that is just trying to force the schools and society to adapt to “MY CHILD”.  Where is the discipline in schools that commanded respect? It has been eroded away, bit by bit, by the parents who see no wrong in their own special and perfect hell raiser and the leadership that is afraid of repercussions.

I’m exhausted by the total obsession with “me, myself and I” that surrounds us.  All of the above would be remedied by taking time to look around and try to understand.  But, I can’t see others if I’m focused on me.  Am I a cup of sugar or a cup of salt?  How will I affect the recipe of life around me?

 

Be Still, Just be Still

be still

Being still is hard.  Sometimes, it feels impossible.  It’s especially difficult for me when anxiety is running wild.  We all have moments of anxiety.  But for some, anxiety is ever-present.  It’s often linked to depression.  And, it can be exhausting.

Have you ever had so much caffeine that you can’t seem to put a thought together and just felt jittery?  That’s what anxiety felt like to me.  Anxiety is defined as stress that’s out of proportion to the impact of the event, the inability to set aside a worry, and restlessness.  When I feel that things are getting out of my control, I can get extremely restless and fidgety.  My thoughts are not always logical.  Everything around me can feel irritating.  I have a need to “fix it” or “hide from it”.

My first husband’s death sent me into a tailspin with grief.  I didn’t know how I was going to manage.  I didn’t want to manage alone.  The fears were so strong and so deep that just deciding what to wear in the morning was almost too big of a decision.  I wanted to know where my kids were at every moment.  I had nightmares,  so I didn’t sleep much.  I spent hours just walking in circles around the living room in the middle of the night.  As the months and then years passed, I believed that I was getting over it all.  But, the reality was:  I had just gotten used to coping with the anxiety and depression.  I could put on a good face for friends, family and co-workers.  I scheduled as much into my week as I could.  I worked full-time.  I volunteered with my church.  I volunteered for activities at the school my kids attended.  I stayed as busy as I could.  My kids grew up and life slowed down.

I found comfort in concentrating on anything.  Most people would call it obsessing.  Terry and I had dreamed of replacing our wedding dishes with depression glass.  So, I set about doing just that on Ebay.  I bought platonite place settings and serving dishes.  I bought emerald-green depression glass.  I found a particular glass goblet that I liked and bought a whole set in emerald-green and red as well as matching cocktail glasses.  I collected peanut butter glasses with state flowers.  I hunted for cottage cheese bowls (I had 5 different colors.)  I bought leather purses.  My kids would joke about all of the boxes I was getting.  I collected flamingos for the yard and for the house.  When I was looking for new things to buy, I didn’t have to face my life.

When both of my children left home, I had a more difficult time filling the time.  I would cook a big elaborate meal once a week and my son would come and eat.  But, the rest of the week, I would buy take out and eat in my driveway.  On weekends when my daughter wasn’t coming home or I wasn’t going to see her, I would just stay in bed and watch TV and sleep.  The only reason I would get up was to let the dogs out.  I avoided the reality of my life as much as possible.  Things that should have been important, just weren’t any more.  I felt like my life was over and I was just waiting it out.  I prayed and studied, but nothing seemed to make a dent in the numbness that had become so normal for me.

I had convinced myself that I was “just fine.”  I had worked through all of my issues.  As Tim and I began to talk about a future together, my very tightly wound ball began to come undone.  Emotions and feelings that I had not allowed to surface for years were suddenly in full view.  It was at that time, I sought the help of a counselor.  It took a few tries to find a good fit, but it was worth it.  I could sit and talk about my fears and doubts.  I began to work on issues that had been around for way too long.  I began to feel that I was gaining control; I was becoming a whole person again.

I was no longer afraid of being alone, of being still.  I realized that I needed time alone to spend with my Bible and in prayer, writing or drawing.  I had allowed grief to become self-doubt and fear.  I stood by as the enemy had robbed me of the ability of “being still”.  I had to learn, again, what peace comes with knowing God.

Stop the busyness.  Look at what God has for you.  Listen for His leading.  Be still.

Just be still.

The “F” Word

It’s not what you think.  It’s not THAT “F” word.  It’s the “F” word that we fear, that we try to escape.   And, it’s the “F” word commonly accepted and used in our own self-talk.  To which “F” word am I referring?  FAILURE!  No one sets out to be a failure.  To fail is not acceptable in most areas of life.  Yet, how often do you or I accept failure as a way of living?  Why do we allow our own minds to attach failure to so much of our lives?  Why?

I struggle with depression.  I’m also an “overachiever”.  After my late husband’s death, feeling down became “normal.”  Just being able to get out of bed or a day without tears was a good day.   I learned to cope.  I convinced myself I was okay.  Because, I needed to be okay.  To be anything else, was to be weak.  I could not and would not be weak.  That was failing.  I read the books.  I did all the things I was told I needed to do (except counseling!) I moved on with my life.  I didn’t excel at life, but I was living.

Do you know some symptoms of an overachiever?  These taken are from John Eliot, Ph.D., a clinical professor in human performance at Texas A&M University and author of Overachievement.

  1. It’s all about the outcome:  Overachievers view failure more as a personal reflection on themselves
  2. You secretly think you’re not good enough:  While some people will “self-sabotage” when they feel inadequate, overachievers stake their identities on performance in order to conquer self-doubt.
  3. There is a short list of things you want to be good at: and that list only includes things you know you’ll be judged on.
  4. Criticism is the worst:  It all goes back to the fear of failure — overachievers’ public enemy No. 1 is criticism, because it implies that they failed at something.
  5. You’re very future-focused:  Because overachievers are constantly trying to avoid bad outcomes, they are heavily focused on the future — and as a result, often neglect the present.
  6. You feel anxious a lot:  Constantly worrying about what the future holds and achieving everything that needs to be achieved is a recipe for stress.
  7. You’re a perfectionist:  Overachievers may also be concerned about being a perfect spouse or parent, or having a perfect home.
  8. In high school, you were the one in 15 clubs:  They had an A in every class, participated in every club and went to music lessons and sports practices — all in the name of a strong college application.
  9. Being able to provide your child with all the opportunities in the world has more to do with your fear of being a bad parent, and less to do with helping your child realize his or her interests and passions.  All parents, to some extent, feel the need to “do it all” for their kids. But overachievers tend to do it big — attending every PTA meeting, making goodies for the bake sales, volunteering in class, constantly checking up with the child’s teacher — because they care so much about being the best parents.
  10. Crunch-time is the worst time:  When the stakes are high, “the overachiever tends to make mistakes in that situation, and are more out to choke because they’re so concerned with the outcome.

I never quite live up to the ideals that I picture for myself.  The smallest glitch can send me into a tailspin:  I’m not a good mother, I’m failing as a wife, I’m just not good enough.  I struggle with the fear of being utterly alone and unloved, of not being good enough to earn the love of those for whom I care so deeply.  I’m caught in a whirlwind of needing to be the best and feeling like a failure at every turn.  This, in turn, leads to anxiety and depression.

I am fortunate.  I have a husband that is constantly reassuring me.  I have friends that love and support me and are always there with words of encouragement.  I have a counselor that listens to my irrational fears and helps me see the truth.  I don’t want to be a victim of the “F” word.  I struggle each day to see value in myself and my actions.

I’m encouraged when I read  that others in the Bible suffered bouts of depression.  David wrote in Psalm 38: 21-22:

Don’t dump me, God;
    my God, don’t stand me up.
Hurry and help me;
    I want some wide-open space in my life!

There are several scriptures that talk about anxiety and trust.  Believe me, I’ve read them all.  I go to those verses when I’m overwhelmed with the daily concerns of life, when I am confronted with my lack of perfection.  I don’t want to fail.  I will not fail.  God is with me every step of the way.  I must look to His strength and remember it is through His love that I am made perfect.

Invisible

invisible

Do you ever feel invisible?

Are there times your voice is not heard?  Is it because you do not speak up?  Or are the other voices and sounds drowning you out?

Do you ever want to be, maybe even need to be,  invisible?

When I was newly widowed, there were many times I felt invisible.  I didn’t fit into any group.  I was no longer married, but wasn’t quite single, either.  My friends were still in the married group.  I moved from “part of the group” to “third wheel” status in the blink of an eye.  I didn’t know how to be seen.  Others seemed to look through me, not ever seeing the ME that stood there.  I didn’t know how to be seen, because I didn’t know how to see myself.   I watched as others buzzed around and wondered how I could be so lonely in a such a busy group of people.  I didn’t know how speak up,  it was easier to fade away than to endure the pain of living in the world in which I no longer belonged.

One can be invisible for lots of reasons.  When another’s need to be recognized  is louder and more aggressive than your own, their need pushes all others out-of-the-way.  I feel the shutters begin to close in around me.  My opinion doesn’t matter.  My voice in not important.  Even the facts and information that I know are dismissed and discounted if they are not in agreement.  I am forced to disappear within myself to avoid further conflict.  It is often that very need to avoid conflict that pushes me further onto the sidelines.  When I am helpless to change anything, when  I’m caught on the carousel of life and there’s no way to regain control, I disappear.

There are times when I try to blend into the background.   There are other times when I need desperately to be heard,  to be seen.  But, I’m  invisible.   It’s as if I’m speaking in an unknown language or wearing the cloak of invisibility.  No one is listening.  No one sees me.  Regardless of how hard I try, I cannot break through.  I begin to believe that I’m truly invisible, that I truly do not matter.  And, that is the real problem.  I accept the invisibility.  I stop trying.  I fade away.

We need to be aware of those invisible people that surround us.  The invisible person may be that homeless person that has become a part of the background.  The invisible person may be the senior citizen that tells the same stories over and over and over again.  The invisible person may be the widow that reminds you how fragile life is.  The invisible person may be a friend or family member that refuses to see things your way causing you to rethink your own ideas or decisions. Invisible people surround us.  They work in the deli’s in our offices.  They stand on the street corners.  They are our neighbors, our friends, our family.  We need to put on our “X-ray vision” and find those invisible people.  We need to see them.  Listen to them.  We need to care.

God, investigate my life;
    get all the facts firsthand.
I’m an open book to you;
    even from a distance, you know what I’m thinking.
You know when I leave and when I get back;
    I’m never out of your sight.
You know everything I’m going to say
    before I start the first sentence.
I look behind me and you’re there,
    then up ahead and you’re there, too—
    your reassuring presence, coming and going.
This is too much, too wonderful—
    I can’t take it all in!

 Is there anyplace I can go to avoid your Spirit?
    to be out of your sight?
If I climb to the sky, you’re there!
    If I go underground, you’re there!
If I flew on morning’s wings
    to the far western horizon,
You’d find me in a minute—
    you’re already there waiting!
Then I said to myself, “Oh, he even sees me in the dark!
    At night I’m immersed in the light!”
It’s a fact: darkness isn’t dark to you;
    night and day, darkness and light, they’re all the same to you.

Psalm 139 :1-12  MSG

 

 

And here comes 2015

Christmas 2014 is history. Its time to take down the lights and start the move into 2015. The new year with all its unknown. This is the time to look back and see what has been and then plan for what we want the new, fresh and clean year to become. And I just want it to be over and done. I’m tired of looking into the future and seeing a long, lonely road. I don’t want to think or contemplate the future. It’s just more of the same.

2014 was a big year of changes for me. I started a new job with a new company that I really enjoy. (Totally a God thing.) I’ve taken a break from some of my ministry commitments in order to refuel and decide my next steps. My daughter moved into her own place and is establishing her life away from me. I found out that my son is going to be a father in the spring of 2015. Good changes, really. But, it doesn’t mean they were easy changes. And, there are more to come.

I have realized that I cannot look at 2015 in one big view. It’s too overwhelming for me. I have failed before the new year has even begun. I’m not sure how to approach 2015. As hard as I try, I can’t dream about the future. I’ve learned the hard lesson that when dreams die, it hurts. I’m afraid of disappointment (my own and of others) and any more loss. I know that living in fear of loss/pain robs me of many wonderful experiences. I barely held it together during the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays this year. I have forgotten how to be content on my own. I have lost the art of being one and only one. I have become too dependent on others and on busyness to keep me distracted from what my life really is. I have to figure it all out, again.

So, for me, 2015 means ONE. I have to relearn being ONE. I have to separate “me” from my children, my friends and my work. I must stop depending on others and learn to stand alone. I have to face 2015 day by day, for this is my life. There is no one else to live it with me or for me.

Psalm 121:1 -2 “I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth.” (KJV)