Category Archives: Friends

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Valentine’s Day

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Some have known great love in life. This day is bittersweet. A time of cherished memories.

Some enjoy great love now. This day is a day to celebrate that blessing.

Some look forward to a great love. This is a day for joy and anticipation.

Let us all take the opportunity to show love to those God places into our paths on this day.

“If I could speak all the languages of earth and of angels, but didn’t love others, I would only be a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. If I had the gift of prophecy, and if I understood all of God’s secret plans and possessed all knowledge, and if I had such faith that I could move mountains, but didn’t love others, I would be nothing. If I gave everything I have to the poor and even sacrificed my body, I could boast about it; but if I didn’t love others, I would have gained nothing.

Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance. Prophecy and speaking in unknown languages and special knowledge will become useless. But love will last forever!

Now our knowledge is partial and incomplete, and even the gift of prophecy reveals only part of the whole picture! But when the time of perfection comes, these partial things will become useless.

When I was a child, I spoke and thought and reasoned as a child. But when I grew up, I put away childish things. Now we see things imperfectly, like puzzling reflections in a mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God now knows me completely.

Three things will last forever—faith, hope, and love—and the greatest of these is love.”
(1 Corinthians 13:1-13 NLT)

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Things I wish I’d said.

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There’s nothing more frustrating than to walk away from a conversation and then think of what you wish you had said. I always think of the wittiest comebacks, the sharpest digs and the best advice after I walk away. I guess that’s why I like the written word so much: I have time to think. I can rearrange sentences and thoughts, review everything for hints of idiocy, and just wait to be sure that’s what I wanted to say. But, today waits for no one and I can’t always weigh every word or thought too carefully.

We’ve all heard “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.” And in most cases I would have to agree. Too often, we substitute sarcasm for conversation. The definition of sarcasm is “the use of words that mean the opposite of what you really want to say especially in order to insult someone, to show irritation, or to be funny.” It’s too easy to be sarcastic and stay away from open dialog. If I’m on the offensive, sarcasm is my best weapon. I’m learning to just be quiet. But don’t confuse being nice with avoidance. Sometimes the “nicest” thing to say isn’t the “best” thing to say. The hard truth is often necessary and even kinder in the long-term. But, I will fall back (too often) into not upsetting anyone, say nothing and then regret it later. All of my words need to be thoughtful and caring.

Still, the words that I wish I’d said swirl around in my head. The regrets for opportunities missed will overwhelm me if I dwell on them. I cannot go back in time and say the things I neglected to say. So, I have made a promise to be generous with compliments. I will make the extra effort to make the person on the elevator smile. I will say “I love you” whenever possible. I will tell the people who mean the most to me how I feel. I will be truthful and honest and loving all at the same time. I never want to regret words not spoke, actions not taken, love missed.

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Honestly

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Can I be honest? There are times when I want to go to sleep and never wake up. Ever. Before you start sending me Suicide Hotline numbers, let me be clear: I’m not thinking about hurting myself. It’s not that I want to die. I just don’t want to live. Not in this reality. I don’t feel this way every day. But on those days when I am over-whelmed with waves of frustration, sadness, desperation and/or (honestly) hopelessness, disappearing from this life sounds really good.

I have a great life from most viewpoints. I have a good job and a nice home. My kids are growing into successful, productive members of society. There are no needs and few wants in my life that are not met. I have friends and encouragers all around me. I was married to my best friend for 18 years. So what’s the deal, right? Right. I ask myself this all the time.

I try not to think too far ahead in my life. My son is working and on his own, building his own life. My daughter just graduated from College and is getting ready to move into her “adult” life. Gracie tells everyone that I am “kicking her out” in June of this year. And I did tell her that realistically, she should have a job and be on her by the summer. But, I’m not kicking her out. I think she needs to grow up. I think we need some space between us. Since her dad’s death, we’ve spent a LOT of time together. Out of necessity and out of habit. I’ve seen Gracie decline invitations because she didn’t want to leave me by myself. It’s time for her to have her own life and for me to have mine. This is when I start to hyperventilate. I hate coming home to an empty house. I’ve shared a home with someone for 28 years. I don’t want to live alone. But, its best for both of us.

With the new changes coming so soon, I’ve considered selling my house and downsizing. An apartment would eliminate some of the responsibilities that cause me so much grief. Someone else would be responsible for leaky pipes, and bad water heaters, and critters in the attic. But, this is the only home my kids have known. It’s the house that Terry and I sought out and bought together. I’m not sure that I ready to leave it. (sigh)

I’m not Rip Van Winkle and I’m definitely not Sleeping Beauty. I can’t sleep for 100 years and avoid the reality of my life. Friends will come and go. I can’t stop the changes that are coming. So, I’ll take a deep breath and face life as it comes. This too shall pass.

There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

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Invisible

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I’m an expert at being invisible. I find it easy to blend into the crowd and just disappear. It’s easy to be invisible in a room full of people. Whether it’s a professional function or as a visitor at a new church or in a group of friends, I can be virtually invisible. I choose to lurk around the edges and wonder if someone, anyone will see me.

Sometimes I desperately want to be seen, to be noticed. But what if no one notices me? Or worse, what if I do get noticed and then ignored. If I become visible to just one person, I can no longer hide behind my invisibility cloak. I’m then at risk of being left out, laughed at, or unpopular.

I’ve been blessed through the years to have people in my life that truly see me. These true friends pull me from edges and into life. They refuse to let me retreat into the solitude of invisibility. These are the friends that challenge me to step out into the light. They urge me to share my feelings and dreams, my sorrows and fears. They dare me to do life out in the open. They love me as I am, not for what I could be. They allow me to return that love in my very own obsessive/compulsive way.

I still struggle with my tendency to fade into the background and disappear. I still struggle with questions about why anyone would care about me. And, I give thanks everyday for those faithful few that continue to love me.

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The Doll

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She was a beautiful doll made of delicate porcelain. Her face was painted with the utmost care. Her dress was taffeta and was edged in delicate french lace. Beautiful red hair fell in delicate ringlets around her shoulders. The utmost care had gone into her creation. She was exquisite, not a blemish of any kind could be seen. The squeals of delight could be heard throughout the house as the little girl opened the box and saw her special gift.

At first, the little girl was careful with her gift. She held the doll carefully and just gazed at her beauty. As the days passed, her excitement began to wane. She was no longer content to just look at the beautiful doll. A tea party was setup for all of the toys with red fruit punch and chocolate chip cookies. In the blink of an eye, the beautiful doll’s dress was smudged with chocolate and stained red from the punch. She was still beautiful, just not quite perfect.

As the days turned to weeks and the weeks into months, the beautiful porcelain doll was hard to recognize. Her once beautiful ringlets were gone, cut-off with the snip of little brother’s scissors. What was left of her hair covered a large crack caused from falling off of the bed one night. The beautiful painted face was now smudged with the remnants of crayon “lipstick” and sharpie “eye-shadow”. Her beautiful dress was in tatters and had been removed so the poor doll was covered only by the blanket wrapped around it. And then one day, in a fit of temper, the once beautiful doll was thrown against the wall and her right leg was broken off at the knee. She was no longer special, no longer perfect. She was soon left in the closet, forgotten by the little girl who had seemed to love her so much.

Years later, the little girl grew into a young woman and had her own little girl. While searching through yesterdays toys, the once beautiful porcelain doll was once again discovered amidst squeals of delight. The doll was carefully held and gazed at once again. The young woman remembered the special doll and wished she had taken better care of it. She took the little doll to an expert in restoring dolls. The doll was cleaned, repaired and dressed in a beautiful new dress. When the young woman once again gazed upon her precious gift, she was amazed to see the beauty had been restored. There were still marks that evidenced the lack of care the doll had received, but she was once again a beautiful and delicate doll. A doll that deserved a special place on the display shelf in the young woman’s home. Never again would the doll be subject to not so gentle hands or be left out in the weather. She was special and to be protected.
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Is there a “porcelain doll” in your life? Have you been given a beautiful gift that you abused and cast aside? No matter what we do, God still cares. He is still there. He is the great Restorer.

Let me hear joy and gladness; let the bones you have crushed rejoice.
Hide your face from my sins and blot out all my iniquity.
Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me.
Do not cast me from your presence or take your Holy Spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me.
Psalm 51:8-12

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A Best Friend

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I hear the term “best friend” or BFF in conversations all the time. So what is a best friend?

A best friend:
Loves me for who I am and sometimes in spite of who I am.
Will be there to laugh and to cry.
Picks up on my moods and is honest when I’m just being a whiner.
Recognizes when I need a hug and steps up to the challenge.
Will defend me to others when necessary.
Is an encourager when I’m discouraged or frightened or hurt.
Never hesitates to tell me what I need to hear even if I don’t want to hear it.
Celebrates even the smallest victories.
Spends time with me “just because.”
Is never embarrassed to be seen with me.

This is the kind of friend I want. And, it’s the kind of friend I want to be.

A friend loves at all times. He is there to help when trouble comes. (Proverbs 17:17 NIRV)

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Memories and Icy Days

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Sometimes I get caught up in memories from the past. Today is one if those days. It’s a cold-day in Houston. Because we don’t drive in ice but once every 5 or 6 years, this wet winter blast closed schools and some offices. These kind of days bring so many memories and wishes and sighs.

I think back over the weather days thru the years. They were meant to keep us safe. But, we knew that they were really fun days. When we were first married, we were iced in at my parents house. My dad built a big wooden sled and pulled it behind his pickup truck. Daddy’s favorite thing was to pop the rope and dump us off the sled into the snow drifts. I can still hear Terry laughing. And there was the year I was pregnant with our son and we had ice in Houston. We lived in a 2nd story apartment. The steps were icy and I couldn’t see my feet, so Terry had to help me make it safely down. I don’t know what we did that day, I just remember the giggles while he herded me on the ice.

Today the streets are now clear and as my daughter and I drove past West Oaks Mall, visions of the past came flying out to greet me. Memories of chilly mornings sharing a Cinnabon with Terry while we waited for the stores to open. We knew the stores well and our hunt for Beanie Babies and Snow villages and other fun collectables was about to begin. We weren’t looking for much and it really wasn’t about shopping as much as it was being together and having fun. None of those stores survive in that mall today. But in my memories they linger still.

On this ice day, I will make new memories with my daughter. I will remember playing with the little dogs, giggling while scraping ice off the windshield, hunting for THE Tex-Mex restaurant and girls night at the movies. I will store these memories away until they are stirred to the surface sometime in the future.

I know I must live in the present. But reality is often softened by those sweet memories of yesterday.

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Keep it in/Keep them out

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“Frozen” is a popular animated movie that’s out right now. It’s popular with children and adults that see it. The movie is loosely based on Hans Christian Anderson’s fairy tale of the battle between good and evil, “The Snow Queen”.

In “Frozen” the older sister, Princess Elsa, has the power (or curse) to freeze anything she touches. In an effort to protect Elsa and her younger sister, Elsa’s parents lock her away from everyone. They tell her she must “conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know.” She has a secret. She doesn’t want anyone to know about her icy touch. She hides and shuts herself off from the very people who love her. As a result she never learns to control this power, but instead it controls Princess Elsa. Through a series of events, Elsa’s icy power is revealed and she runs away. As she sings about finally being free to be herself she uses the phrase “The cold never bothered me anyway” to dismiss the loneliness of her life.

Wow. Can you relate to this story? Not with Elsa’s icy touch, but with the power of the hidden, being controlled by the very secret we keep. I can. I want to be accepted. I want to fit in with the people around me. In order to do that, I try to be perfect. I want to be an individual, but I don’t want to be too different. (Can you say oxymoron?) I don’t admit to emotions I might be feeling, hiding the less than perfect parts of my life. I go with the flow because it’s easier. And, acceptable.

What would happen if I actually said what I wanted to say? What if I was honest with myself and with those around me and didn’t hide any longer? Would my life be different? It might be. I might have to learn to live the light instead of creeping around in the shadows. I might lose the ‘friends’ who prefer the people pleaser to the real me. I might learn that I’m valuable just the way I am.

I’m not advocating losing all of the filters we use in life. I don’t need to discuss/reveal everything to everyone I meet. But, when I shape my life to suit the people around me, to avoid offending anyone, to be acceptable at any expense, that’s when I need to take a look at what’s going on inside of me. Sometimes, it’s easier to slam the door on openness than to expose the vulnerable parts we protect so jealously.

Eventually, Princess Elsa learns she can’t hide from her fears. Viewed through the lens of love her terrible secret isn’t so bad. We just have to take the chance, to allow ourselves to be vulnerable. Sure, there will be days, weeks and maybe months of pain and hurt. But, there will be moments of love and pure joy too. We just have to step out and take a chance.

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Coffee for your Heart: You’re Loved

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Coffee-for-Your-Heart-150
This week I’m joining Holley Gerth http://holleygerth.com/coffee-for-your-heart-love/ on her website with Coffee for Your Heart. The directions are simple: Write a blog post on the theme and link it up here at holleygerth.com on Wednesday. Or if you don’t have a blog, you can post on facebook, twitter, or simply share a comment. This Week’s writing prompt: You’re Loved.

Love. We want it. We crave it. We pursue. We dream about it. And often, we take advantage of it and even abuse it.

Those first pangs of being “in love” are so exciting. You can hardly breathe when you are separated from your beloved and it’s even harder when they are in the same room. Life seems to flit by as you soak up those “love” feelings. But, after that initial excitement, life becomes normal again and slows to a calmer pace. Now what? There are a few options. The one touted by the world around us is to move on and find those exciting “in love” feelings with another. But the best option is to work to find the deep, soul changing love about which so many songs are written.

I will never forget walking out of that hospital room after saying good-bye to my husband for the last time. I came face to face with a line of people that loved and cared for me and for my family. It was two o’clock in the morning, but the calls had gone out and they were there to offer hugs and tears and love. I was told over and over, “He loved you so much!” And in the days that followed, as grief gripped my heart and threatened to take my sanity, I would hear those words over and over “He loved you so much!” I would see demonstrations of love from so many facets of my world. In the midst of the most world shattering event of my life, I knew I was loved. I

This kind of deep love and caring doesn’t come easily. It takes effort and tears and compromise and struggles to fit together seemingly similar but still very different people. There were days it seems easier to walk away than to keep trying. But, the results are so worth the effort. After all we all want love, right?

Through the years, I’ve struggled with being loved. Is it even possible to love someone as broken as me? I did a lot of searching in a lot of different places trying to feel loved. And when I finally calmed down and was quiet enough to listen, I heard a familiar voice saying “Don’t be afraid. You are loved.” As much as I loved my husband, as much as I still love my children, my family and my friends, there is no comparison to the love that God has for me. I am “fearfully and wonderfully made.” God loves me enough to know everything about me. He pays attention to the smallest details of my life. He LOVES me.

In those darkest times when nothing seems right. In those moments of complete desolation and grief, read the first 18 verses of Psalm 139. Remember that you are WONDERFUL. You are LOVED.

You have searched me, Lord, and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you, Lord, know it completely. You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain. Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,” even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you. For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. How precious to me are your thoughts, God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand— when I awake, I am still with you. (Psalm 139:1-18 NIV)

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Grief Support Groups

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I’m a big believer in DIY activities. I try to figure out a solution to any problem on my own. I search the internet for books to read or videos to watch, anything to help me out so I don’t have to ask for help. This usually works. So when grief became an unwanted house guest, I decided I would read all the books on the steps of grief. I figured I would get through all this “stuff” in six months tops. And then I would get on with my life.

But it didn’t work. I couldn’t “fix” my life or my kids lives. The world was caving in around me. I didn’t know how to move forward. I don’t care how many times I decided which “step” I was on in my grief, but it didn’t matter. Grief came in waves and knocked me down time and time again. I couldn’t help myself and I certainly couldn’t help my son or my daughter. A cousin that works with Houston Hospice suggested grief support. She gave me information on the Houston Hospice Wings program for my kids and for me. I signed us all up to begin just shy of the 3 month anniversary of my husband’s death. My son was relieved that he would be able to talk with others. My daughter was less enthused. I bribed her into going. And honestly, making the first step into support groups was HARD. It meant admitting that I needed help. It meant facing my grief and acknowledging the new normal in our lives. I was nervous and my stomach churned as we walked thru those doors for the first time. I didn’t know what to expect and wasn’t sure that I could begin to open up about my loss. And I cried. A LOT.

And I never regretted my decision to get involved in a support group. For the first time in months, I was surrounded by people who weren’t uncomfortable with tears. They didn’t try to make things better or give me canned answers about my sorrow. They listened and understood. They allowed the tears to fall and sometimes cried with me. We talked about going to the grocery store and seeing Valentine’s candy on the shelves and crying. I discovered I wasn’t the only one that kept a bottle of cologne so I wouldn’t forget. Nightmares and sleepless nights weren’t rare in this room and I was comforted to realize I wasn’t losing my mind. We discussed our grief, our anger, our loneliness, our fear of laughter and of forgetting. In this group, I could talk about the past and how I didn’t know if I wanted a future and they understood. We talked about the practical things like filling out papers, filing for SSN for our kids, the hardships of moving forward in a single world as a single parent of grieving children. We shared our feelings about cremation and burial, about spreading ashes as well as wording on headstones. We asked how long grief would last and what to expect. There were questions on wedding rings and dating and in-laws. There wasn’t a topic that was out-of-bounds.

I realized that grief support groups aren’t there for all the answers. They don’t exist to “fix” things. Grief support groups do just that: they support. It’s a chance to talk to others walking a similar path. They allow the grieving person a safe harbor to just grieve without feeling like a trespasser in the land of fun. I think the best advice I received during the 6 weeks of the Wings program was this: On those days when it seems that it takes every ounce of energy to breathe, then JUST breathe. I needed permission to let my guard down, to stop trying so hard to prove that I was okay. I needed a support group that would allow me to talk, but would also allow me to be silent.

There are a lot of ways to find support in the Houston area. The area hospice programs offer various support groups. Several churches in the area provide Griefshare groups. I will be facilitating a GriefShare group beginning January 26 at 5:00pm. We will be meeting at Westland Baptist Church in Katy, Texas. If you are interested in what Griefshare is all about, go to the website at Griefshare.org. There are lots of resources on the site. If you are in the west Houston/Katy area, you are welcome to join us on Sundays. Don’t be isolated in your grief. There are people who need to hear your story.