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)

When?

There are lights on every street, twinkling as I pass them up. Homes are decorated inside and out. People are dressed in holiday sweaters and shirts, some even wearing antlers on their heads. Holiday parties and lunches abound over the next weeks. The candy canes on my snowman calendar show that only fifteen days are left. All is festive and ready. So, why do I feel as if I’m standing on the outside looking in the window?

I’ve gone through the motions. I’ve done most of my shopping and some gifts have even been received. I rsvp’d for the company party. I have my dress waiting for the night. I’m singing the Christmas carols and wearing all my Christmas attire. The weather is even cooler this year. So, when does the Christmas spirit kick in?

I know that happiness is a decision that I make for myself. I just don’t seem to be able make it work right now. I miss the joy of the season. I miss the excitement, the breathless anticipation. I miss counting the days until the next party or lunch or tea or surprise. I miss picking the perfect thing that will make that special someone’s eyes light up with pleasure. I miss adding that one new Santa Claus decoration to the collection. I miss baking and creating sweet packages for friends. I miss being together. When will the cloud lift? When does the dread go away? When does the desire to sleep away every spare moment end? Will I ever do more than just go through the motions? Will I ever love the Christmas season, again?

If

If Band-Aids and kisses could fix all of your hurts and wounds , I would keep an endless supply.

If I had the power, I would flatten all the hills, grind up the rocks and fill in all the ruts that litter your landscape in life.

Given the chance, I would fill your life with rainbows and butterflies and all the beautiful things in this world.

But, band aids aren’t meant to repair anything. And, kisses are temporary. It’s the scars from battling life that give us courage.

It’s from the mountaintop that the view is the best. It’s from the glorious heights that we can see what we have accomplished and begin to see what is ahead. Conquering the rocks and ruts builds strength and endurance and prepares us for the long journeys to come. 

Even the most beautiful things can become ordinary. It’s in life’s struggles that we learn to appreciate the gifts we see everyday.

So I’ll watch as you climb the next mountain and negotiate the obstacles in your way. I’ll pray for guidance, peace and healing when things seem too hard. I’ll be there when you need a shoulder or a helping hand. And when those moments of beauty come, breathe deeply, laugh long and hard, and live life fully and completely.

The brightest rainbow may be just over the next mountain.

Disrupted

I had a plan for today. But, the neighbors decided to have a yard sale, so mowing and edging and that unattractive sweaty stuff would have to wait. Instead, I got my coffee and breakfast and drove to a local park. I sat under the trees and listened to the birds sing. Memories flashed through my mind of my kids on this very play area. This was a favorite place for our family.

I watched a squirrel searching the ground. I wished for my binoculars while trying to identify a little black and white bird. I hardly noticed when the tears started to roll. Tears for the great memories made here. Tears for the unknown that is yet to come. Tears for friends that are hurting right now, for the hurts that cannot be removed.

Some days feel impossible, overwhelming. Plans are disrupted. Life is changed for now and forever. How do you keep going? Sometimes, it takes a moment in the park. Just remembering, taking the time to dream and trying to see hope in the distance.

20140607-084016-31216759.jpg

Fear, Failure & Other Silliness

I have NOT done lots of things in my life because I didn’t want to:
a) look silly
b) fail
c) get hurt
d) lose
e) admit I was afraid
f) ask for help
g) all of the above

In school, I didn’t try out for anything unless I was fairly certain I would succeed. I avoided any activities that might be above my current capabilities. I didn’t want to fall and maybe be hurt. If I did take a risk and then I fell, I NEVER tried again. (It’s amazing I learned to ride a bicycle!) I stuck with the things I could do best and pretended I didn’t care about the rest of it.

As I matured, I learned that there were times when taking the risk was worth it. It was okay to try and to fail. I actually found that I could excel at looking silly and survive! I’ll never be a champion skater (or even very good for that matter!), but I can say that I tried. And fell. Many, many times. On a few occasions, I’ve been forced to face my fear of heights and bugs and snakes and telephones and have lived to tell about it even if I still get a bit nauseated at the memories.

One area in which I continue to struggle and grow in is developing true relationships. I’ve never had a problem meeting people. I can be friendly and even helpful. But, when it comes to really allowing another person past my personal fire-wall, that’s a different story. Because behind this facade is a person that fears the risk of transparency. You may discover that I’m actually silly or shallow. I may not be able to live up to your expectations. What if you don’t like me or find me annoying? Will you stick around if I admit that I’m afraid or that I desperately need your help? What will I do if you let me down? And those fears have tried to rob me of the joy of truly knowing and loving others.

There are no guarantees. Some people have come into my life for a specific time and now our lives follow different paths. There are people who I have loved and mourned when they were unwilling or unable to return that love. And then there are the people who are so deeply and richly ingrained in my life and memories that even time and distance cannot break the bond. I’ve had my heart broken and bruised through the years. There have been times that I promised God and myself that I would NEVER allow anyone the opportunity to hurt me that deeply ever again. But, as the pain subsides and the new normal becomes more familiar, I know that I need to step out of my safe zone. And, I’m so glad I haven’t given up on loving and caring about others. For all the tears and pain, I’ve also experienced so much love and joy.

If I had waited until love was safe and hassle-free, I would never have married. If we had waited until everything was perfect in our lives and in our world to have children, I wouldn’t have Zachary & Gracie. If I wait until there is no risk of being hurt before I love and care about others, I’ll live a very lonely, empty life. If I only live the parts of my life that come with guarantees, I’ll never know what it is to live life fully. Every day, I ask God for guidance and wisdom and protection. And every day, He reminds me that I am loved.

Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. Matthew 10:29-31 NIV

Five Minute Friday – Grateful

Featured Five Minute Friday:
Here’s the deal. Five Minute Friday. You go find the little prompt at the wonderful Lisa-Jo’s blog, set the time and write for five minutes, and then just stop. Where you are, no edits, just publish raw words.

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community..

OK, are you ready? Please give us your best five minutes on the word:::

Grateful
GO

Some mornings, I look around and wonder if it’s really worth all of the hassle and effort. It would just be easier to stay in bed and hide from the world. I listen to that inner voice that keeps telling me that I’m not good enough or that I’m failing in some way. But, I’m reminded of the truth in Psalm 16:11 “You make known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand.” And, I remember.

I remember that no matter how sad I may feel at time, God is there to lift me up. He provides friends and encouragement. I don’t need to spend time thinking about what was or what will never be. God has my life planned. He has “eternal pleasures” for me.

I remember the gifts He has already given to me: a good (if too short) marriage, true and faithful friends that listen and encourage, beautiful kids that have joined with me to overcome the grief that death brings, a supportive and loving family. How can I doubt?

When life doesn’t go quite as planned (or even reasonable close for that matter), I am still grateful. Not always for the events in life, but definitely for the experiences, the learnings and the love.

I am grateful.

Silk Flowers

Yesterday I put flowers on my husband’s grave. I do this whenever I make the trip home. For eight years I have brought new silk flowers to fill the marble urn on the headstone that marks his little plot of ground. There are people that think this is a waste of time and money. Terry doesn’t know or care if there are flowers on his grave. Actually, Terry didn’t see any reason to spend money on flowers when he was alive. The irony never fails to amuse me: I’ve put more flowers on his grave than he ever gave to me during our marriage. And I’m ok with that.

To be clear: I don’t put flowers on his grave to make Terry happy. I know Terry’s not in that cemetery. It’s just his shell that we buried. I do it because I want anyone that passes his gravesite to know that he was important to someone. Flowers are the only way I have left to say he was loved. It’s the one place that allows me to openly honor him. I will continue to refresh the bouquets as long as I can, in memory of the husband and father that Terry was. In memory of the love that I cherish to this day.

20140505-212540.jpg