My Princess

This weekend I am heading to Disney World along with 20,000 other runners, to run the Disney Princess Half Marathon.  While I am excited to break a personal record, and celebrate my 35th birthday in the "happiest place on earth", the race such such a deeper meaning to me than any of this.

Almost one year ago, I lost my sister and best friend.  She unexpectedly encountered some complications from her seizure disorder, and on March 7, after being removed from the respirator, she went home to be with Jesus.  She was the most special person in my life, EVER!

Karrie was mentally impaired, and had the mental age of a 3 year old.  She is technically my step sister, which I almost NEVER reference, because she had been my sister for 25 years.  I was 9 when I met her, she was 14.  She was fun, silly, strong and obstinate.  We shared a room for almost 6 years, often falling asleep holding hands, if we hadn't already pushed the beds together.  She stood up in my wedding, and was the best aunt my son could have ever asked for.

So as I head down to Disney, to run a Princess race, I will be running for my princess, Karrie.  I'm dressing up as Belle, her absolute favorite princess.  I don't think she knew Disney had other movies besides Beauty and the Beast, and anything that had Belle on it, she loved.  So I will be donning a yellow skirt, yellow tank, long yellow gloves, and carrying a rose.  Every mile I run, I will remember the honor it was to grow up with and later care for my sister.  I will remember every moment we shared, and try not to cry for the moments we were robbed.  I hope that on Sunday morning, as I board my bus at 3 am, wait in a corral in Epcot til 5:45, and cross the finish line about 2 1/2 hours later, that she will be looking down from heaven and see.  She will be the strength I need to keep going, and the tears on my face when I finish.  I love you Karrie, and I miss you.  I'm doing this for you sister.  You're my best friend!

Guilt

I'm noticing a pattern among people who experience loss.  It's guilt.  It doesn't really matter what the circumstances are surrounding the death, someone, or several people even, take on guilt and responsibility as if it was their own fault, or they could have prevented it.  From the outside its clear to see that the guilt is unnatural, and the person who carries it really couldn't have stopped the loss from happening, or had little to no role in its final outcome.  Yet I continue to witness innocent people carrying the heavy weight of guilt surrounding a loved one's death.

The first time I took notice of it was in my mom.  After we lost my sister my mother would talk about how she feels guilty about her death.  She would make statements such as "if we wouldn't have gone out of town", and I could see her continually blaming herself for a situation that she had absolutely no control over.  My sister had a seizure, didn't recover normally, and the EMT put her on a respirator.  That respirator caused her to develop pneumonia, and she eventually had to be taken off the respirator.  It was a horrible series of events which lead to her leaving this earth long before any of us were ready to let her go.  But in all honesty my mom was in no way to blame.  She had done nothing wrong, and living her life to go visit her newborn grandson is certainly not a mistake which she made.

Now I sit here thinking about my own father, who died of lung cancer.  Yes I too had an element of guilt related to his death.  I was my dad's caregiver, and a few weeks before he died I went on a weekend trip.  Before the trip my dad was independent, sharp, and doing very well.  However when I returned he seemed frail, and a bit more blurry.  The decline he made over the 4 days I was gone was noticeable. It was what appeared to be the beginning of the end.  In 3 weeks time he passed away.  On several occasions I felt myself regretting that trip, or feeling selfish for going away with my husband for business. Guilt knocked on my door, and I opened up and let it in.

With the passing of my late husband I am pleased to say I have never opened the door when guilt came knocking. I had excellent counseling through our tough times which taught me that I am only responsible for my own actions. I am not responsible for someone else's response to them.  I knew I had heard from God to take the steps I had taken, and when he died I was able to say I do not blame myself.  But many people I greeted in the funeral home had the guilt.  Even to this day I have discussions with people who loved and cared about them and can see the guilt they carry.  "If only I had known, I could have helped.  He would have listened to me." "I was gonna talk to him about his problems, if I had maybe it would have made a difference."  From the outside I see the heavy weight they carry, and although I have reassured them that it would not have made a difference, that people who knew were helping him and it wasn't enough, they continue to carry it.

God is not a God of death, nor a God of guilt.  There is another spiritual force at work in our world, and he is the one that brings death.  Yet I can see him at work, causing innocent  mourners to carry the guilt of a death they had nothing to do with.  John 10:10 says "the thief comes to steal, kill and destroy, but I [Jesus] have come that you might have life."  Guilt is part of the thief's plan.  He steals, he kills, and then he continues... to destroy.  The guilt will destroy you.

If you are carrying guilt over the loss of a loved one, please hear me.  It is not your fault.  Don't carry the weight any longer. Put the blame back where it belongs: the cancer, the accident (which is just that an accident), sickness or even the enemy of our souls.  You will heal much quicker and faster when you let go of what you could not change and are not responsible for.  Father, In Jesus' name release these mourners who suffer with guilt.  Help them to see the situation as you see it.  Set them free from guilt and blame.  Renew their mind with the truth of your Word and set them free from the guilt.  Give them your peace, comfort them as they mourn, give them the oil of joy, and remove a spirit of heaviness. In Jesus' name, Amen.

Addiction

Whitney Houston died this past weekend. And all over Facebook I saw comments about her. It takes me back to my own personal loss, losing my husband at age 38 of a drug overdose. So many of the comments are those that we said about Jonathan. And many of the I have said repeatedly. 

"It was probably drugs."  Many people referenced her addictions and although at the time a cause of death had not been announced people knew.  And that's how it was with us. Those who knew Jonathan and his struggles knew, even though I didn't announce a cause of death.  I didn't have to say. 

"What a waste!" I can't tell you how many times I said that, and heard it said. When someone dies young we look at the balance of life they missed out on and it causes us to be sadder for what could have been. But when it's a needless death from an addiction, like an overdose, that loss is magnified. Jonathan could have gone on to do great things. He could have continued to raise his children. He could have continued to lead the window cleaning industry in professionalism and excellence. But he didn't. He died young. He died before he fulfilled all the plans God had for his life. It was a waste of his talent, abilities, gifts and callings. 

"In a way its a blessing." Unless you have struggled in addiction or watched a loved one suffer under it this comment seems cold and insensitive. But that couldn't be further from the truth. Addiction is bondage. It holds a person captive and destroys anything good in it's path. And anyone tied to that person is dragged along with them. When my late husband died, God continually told me two things. "he's free" and "your free".   His death freed him from his pain and torment. The chains of addiction held him down in such a way there was no escape. Death freed him. And it freed us, not only from the effects of his struggles but also the pain and torment of watching a loved one destroy themselves day by day.  Recognizing this truth does not negate your love for them. Jonathan was greatly loved. And perhaps it's that love which understands this statement most.  True love sets people free, even if it means losing them. 

"Truly an amazing artist." Last week I wrote a whole post on how someone's death effects the way in which we remember them.  It gives us an ability to look past a person's faults to see the treasure. The world did it when Michael Jackson died, and they are doing it with Whitney Houston.  I did that with Jonathan.  His funeral was an amazing memorial of the man he was, the impact he made on the window cleaning industry.  It was not a gossip fest of his issues, but rather a celebration of his life!

"Addiction is a horrible disease."  I didn't know whitney. I didn't have to. I knew Jonathan. I saw his pain. I saw his struggles. Addiction is a horrible tragedy that destroys. It takes beautiful talented people with a purpose in this life and wastes it away. Unless we have personally had an addiction, we don't truly understand.  We look at situations like Whitney, or my late husband, and we judge their choices.  We say things like, "why don't they get self control", or question why they would choose drugs when they have so much!  And we shake our head.  But the truth is addiction has a hold that those of us on the outside will never understand.  It is a disease.  And we shouldn't judge, but rather pray.  I believe nothing short of a miracle of God can truly free a person from addiction. So instead of judging something we have no business judging, let's pray for those caught in addiction, that they would experience a true freedom that only God can bring.

My heart aches for everyone who suffers under addiction. Every person who dies daily whose name is not known, whose talents have not yet been revealed to this world and now never will be, I think of them. And every family member who loves a person bound in chains, prisoner to drugs, I think of them. And my late husband, a man who suffered, but now is free, I think of him. 

Shaken

Like me, I am sure you can pinpoint the exact moment your world came crashing down.  For me it happened long before that unforgettable call from the hospital.  Its been almost 3 years now, and I have as many questions today as I did then.  Why did this happen? Did I miss God? Would I do it different if I could? Why me? What if, what if, what if?  The reality is my world was shaken. 


Through it all: all my questions, my doubts, my heart break, I've known that God is faithful.  And I've understood that the more I lean on Him, the better off I will be.  Proverbs 18:10, says "The name of the Lord is a strong tower, the righteous run into it and are safe."  I need that tower.  I need that protection.  I need that stability.  I need to know that even though almost every part of my life has changed in the blink of an eye, God doesn't.  He won't.


When we put our complete and total trust in Him, we can walk through hard times, desperate times, broken times, knowing that He is our shelter.  


“Therefore whoever hears these sayings of Mine, and does them, I will liken him to a wise man who built his house on the rock: and the rain descended, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house; and it did not fall, for it was founded on the rock. But everyone who hears these sayings of Mine, and does not do them, will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand: and the rain descended, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house; and it fell. And great was its fall.”  Matthew 7:24-27

I love this parable, because of what it says to me! See, the storm came to both people.  Just because we are facing a hard situation doesn't mean we made a mistake, we missed God, or we are in sin.  Sometimes its just life.  The storm hit both the people who did God's word, and those who didn't.  As Christians we need to stop placing blame, or searching for why this happened.  Storms come, welcome to a fallen world! But thank God we can survive.  Our house, or life, can fall apart without taking us down with it.  The secret is to put our foundation, our trust, our hope in Jesus.  And to do His Word.  When He says praise Him at all times, we are building a house on the rock. When He says trust Him with all our hearts, we are building a house on the rock.


God's not moved by the storm that destroyed our house.  The rock wasn't effected.  It couldn't be swept away, and anything clinging to that rock, or finding refuge inside was protected. God knew this storm would come.  He's not surprised. He's not shaken, nor can He be.  So find refuge in Him.  Seek shelter from the rain, wind and waves, inside His wings.  

When I am in the valley of the shadow of death

You're not shaken, you're not shaken

You're right here beside me, and you have never left

You're not shaken, you're not shaken

When every little thing, that I had dreamed would be

just slips away like water through my hands

And when it seems the walls of my beliefs 

come crashing down like they're all made of sand

I won't let go of you now because I know

You're not shaken.

Your Not Shaken, Phil Stacey

Listen to the song: Your Not Shaken

From Heaven

I've wondered so often about what my late husband can see from Heaven.  I've wondered if he knows my struggles, and sees my victories.  Last week, during a discussion with my pastor, he shared  that biblically our loved ones can see us from heaven.  This brought such great comfort to me.  I've been struggling and I'm sure he sees it.  Today I found this poem, and it was such a blessing to me.  Especially because of my struggles and my striving for perfection and falling so short.  I really believe God wanted me to read this.  He wants me to hear these words as if Jonathan was speaking them directly to me.  May this poem bless you and bring you comfort this Christmas.

I still hear the songs

I still see the lights

I still feel your love

On cold winter nights

I still share your hopes
and all of your cares
I'll even remind you
to please say your prayers

I just want to tell you
you still make me proud
You stand head and shoulders
above all the crowd

Keep trying each moment
to stay in his grace
I come here before you
to help set your place

You dont have to be
perfect all the time
He forgives you the slip
if you continue to climb

To my family and friends
please be thankful today
I'm still close beside you
in a new special way

I love you all dearly
now don't shed a tear
Cause i'm spending my
Christmas with Jesus this year

-John Mooney, 1989

The Roller Coaster of Grief

As I walked out of church the other night, the words "I love my life" slipped out.  I was shocked, because less than one week ago I was sobbing in my room, tears streaming, "God, I hate my life."  How do you explain that?  Can it even been explained?  All I can say is: it's normal.

There are times in life when we are going to be hurting, sad, frustrated, depressed, and overwhelmed.  Almost like a situational depression comes upon you.  It lasts for moments, or a just a few days, and as quickly as it came, it leaves. 

Last week I had about 3 days of depression. We had just come home from our wonderful caribbean cruise.  I was exhausted.  My 3 year old was exhausted.  And we were both out of routine. What followed was several very difficult days.  Getting myself back in routine is one thing, but getting my son back is a whole different ball game.  After spending one full week sleeping in the same room with me, bedtime at home was now destroyed.  He wanted to sleep with me of course. And so begins the bedtime struggle.  We've had it over and over since his daddy died.

Thankfully, God continued to speak to me and encourage me, and the "down in the dumps" only lasted a few days.  I reached out to a few friends, and it helped!  Now this week, although I'm still fighting exhaustion, as we continue to work out the bed time issue, I am enjoying life again. I love my life!

As widows, we need to recognize that we are going to have these peaks and valleys.  Its normal!  We need to recognize that  there are wonderful things in our lives that can cause us to enjoy life despite our hurt and pain.  At the same time, we are constantly facing challenges, situations, and working through our grief.  We need to let ourself go through the cycles, and reach out for support from friends.  That said, we don't need to "feed" the down cycles either.  I personally feel that while the cycles are normal, we should be working through the days of depression, and not helping ourselves to get deeper into them.

When I feel the days of depression, I allow myself to cry.  I cry out to God.  I cry out to Jonathan.  I will also reach out to a friend, letting them know I am having a hard time.  I don't call for a pity party, I call for help.  I call for prayer.  I call for a listening ear.  I call because I need to talk my way through what I'm feeling.  Then I get out of the house.  I go for a run.  I go shopping.  I find some type of recreation which brings joy and takes my focus off the pain.  Most importantly I go to church! I get in His presence.  I celebrate all God has done for me! I may dance, I may cry, but something about God's presence changes my situation.  And that is why one week later I can say, "I love my life!"

We are riding an emotional roller coaster called grief.  We are going to have highs and lows, but just like a roller coaster, the highest highs, and the lowest lows are at the beginning.  As the ride continues, the highs and lows begin to balance out.  Grief will bring high highs, and low lows, but keep working it out.  Keep seeking God. Keep praying.  Life will become stable again.  It just takes time!

Christmas Spirit

"It's the most wonderful time of the year!" Clearly the singer of that song hadn't recently lost a loved one.  What was once my favorite holiday is now a continual reminder that I am on my own.  I love Christmas, it is my favorite season.  But since the death of my late husband, its just different.  I don't have the Christmas spirit this year and I am purposefully forcing myself into the holiday mood.

In many ways this feels like the first Christmas without Him.  Last year Christmas was 4 weeks after his death.  I was still numb, and in shock.  The holidays were at best an after thought.  We made it through, but it wasn't at all a normal holiday season.  One tree, no decorations, no stockings, no nativity.  We barely had gifts and a tree.  This year is different.  This year it is a normal Christmas season. And I'm facing it on my own. It is so awkward and strange.  It feels a little more empty than I remember it, almost like I'm forgetting something, or something is missing.

He is missing. We did everything together.  We set up the tree together.  We decorated the house together.  We watched Christmas movies together.  And now I'm not wanting to do any of it because it feels strange. I know though, that it is in my best interest to take this Christmas season head on, instead of avoid it.  I'm forcing the Christmas spirit, but it needs to be done.  And the quicker I begin new traditions and find "my" way through the holidays, the better off I'll be.

Where to start?  Well, we need a tree.  A real tree was just to hard without a man around, so I ordered a fake one for the first time ever.  Tree... check!  It came, and on Saturday while my step daughter was over we decided to put it up.  Look at me, I'm making Christmas happen!  That is until I realize the tree stand that is included in the box... wasn't.  I wanted to lose it and cry.  After all, I'm really trying here and I didn't need that.  We put the tree on hold, as we wait for the tree stand to be shipped out.  And the Christmas spirit that had started to flutter through the home, escaped out the window.

What else is there? How about some Christmas songs?  Easy.  I turn on Pandora Radio.  Holiday music... check!  Big tree is a bust, but we have a little tree for the front window, let's start there.  I bought new ornaments last year, and we decided to put them on this tree.  A small way to change things up as I recreate a new norm for the holidays.  Music is playing, kids are hanging ornaments, Christmas spirit is once again stirring.  Small Tree Decorated... check.

Let's move on... the stair case! I hung lighted garland across the hallway and up the stairs.  By now I'm actually enjoying the decorating.  "It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas."  My son and I set out our Nativity set, which is by far my favorite Christmas decoration! I have a growing collection of Fontanini pieces, which is the nativity version of a Christmas village.  My son and I talk about each piece and their role in the Christmas story as we set them out.  We set baby Jesus behind the stable, and I tell my son that on Christmas morning, when Jesus is born, he will place Him in the manger.  The true meaning of Christmas... check!

The decorating continues with poinsettia plants on the stairs and fireplace, a tree on the landing, and trees on the front porch.  Now comes the decision.  Should I do outside lights on the bushes?  This was Jonathan's task, which I asked each year, and he hated doing.  I've never done outside lights, do I really want to take this on?  Well if I'm finding my own groove to Christmas, then there will be lights on the bushes.  And on all of them!  Glowing bushes... check!  I felt very proud and accomplished to do the outside lights. I'm making my way.  I'm surviving.  I'm independent and capable.  It actually feels pretty great.  Just some lights on the bushes, but a huge affirmation to me!

By now the Christmas spirit is flowing up and down the stairs, through every room and even found its way in my heart.  It worked!  I made the conscious choice to make my own Christmas, to find new traditions, and get excited about the season.  The emptiness is much more subtle, and I'm looking forward to Christmas.  I have set up a few Christmas events at my house right before the holiday.  Again, I know that something positive to look forward to will help ease the sting of the holiday season.

I challenge you to invite the Christmas spirit in your home.  Even you don't feel like it, just get it stirring.  Make your list, and start checking off what you need to find your new groove for the holidays.  Plan a few activities or events you never did before, and give yourself something to look forward to.  Welcome the holidays! They are coming regardless, and how you approach it determines whether you will survive or thrive!

The Reality of Heaven

As a Christian we know heaven exists. We read the accounts in the Bible describing it. And we are confident in knowing that Jesus really does go to to prepare a place for us. But it isn't until the day you lose someone you love as much as life, that it becomes a reality. 

Becoming a widow brought an entirely new perspective of eternity. The moment I walked into the hospital room and saw his lifeless body I knew the truth of our three part being: spirit, soul and body. There was his body, empty, void; a shell that once cased my husband. The actually body wasn't what I loved, it was his spirit, the real man. And that day his spirit departed. "To be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord." (2 Corinthians 5:8) I know that heaven is a reality and my husband is there. He is not the body he left behind, he is the man, the spirit that lives forever in glory. 

Despite my knowledge of this truth, I still feel compelled to honor his body. At the funeral and visitation I couldnt stop touching him. Weird, I know. I had never touched a dead body until his. And I couldnt stop. I kept playing with his hair, holding his hands, and I kept right by His side. At the very last moment I kissed his forehead one last time. I know it's just a shell, but that shell housed the man I loved and it meant something to me. 

In my visits to the cemetery I often wonder why I'm even there, because I know that Jonathan isn't. His spirit isn't there. He's in heaven with our savior Jesus. Even so, I still go. I still visit on important occasions or when I feel the need. And I talk to him. I often wonder if God allows him to see. If God shows him the times I cry at his grave, or if God let's him hear what I'm saying. I'm not certain that He does. But there is something healing in going. There's a healing that occurs when I talk to him or when I cry.  It's my way of getting closure. His grave is a frame of reference. Someplace I can go to identify with my husband, and the loss. 

Since his death I've had moments of great accomplishment, that he never would have believed.  Oddly, if he were here, these accomplishments never would have happened. Moments like  finishing my first half marathon, or repelling down a 4 story building. I want him to see, so I ask God to open up heaven and show him.  

I know if he could see me now he'd be so proud!  Even if he never sees my victories, I ask God anyway.  Even if he never hears a word I say, I speak anyway. If he never sees a tear I cry, I cry anyway.

Jonathan-ized

I catch myself at different times saying something I haven't heard in over a year.  And my first thought, "I've been Jonathan-ized."  When someone I cared about betrayed me, my first words were "What a pig-dog!" Yes that was a Jonathan phrase.  Or when I was working hard to paint some rooms in my house, I was "jammin'".   Its those little phrases and actions which are so uniquely him.  And I continue to find them coming out of me, even as time passes.

In a way its really refreshing.  It's a small way that he left his mark on my life.  Its a simple reminder that even though its seems like a different life, lived by a different woman, I really did have him in my life.  Its a reminder that I was once one with another, someone that I loved.

There are other ways he left his finger print on my life, deeper than simple sayings.   Jonathan taught me how to include children into everything we did.  When I married him he had a 5 year old daughter, who quickly became my daughter as well.  And when we had her over the weekends, she was always included in whatever we were doing.  Whether it was raking leaves, making dinner, or painting a room.  We would always simplify the task to include her.  That is something I have carried with me.  When my son expresses interest in making dinner, or helping me paint my bathroom, I make a way for him to help.  Thank you Jonathan for teaching me that.

The biggest life lesson I learned from Jonathan, although it was rather indirect, was to see the best in people.  As I've shared before Jonathan had struggles.  He was emotionally damaged which led to many of the "symptoms" and issues he struggled with in life.  But I never defined him by the issues.  I separated the man from the problems.  That's a very hard thing to do.  But for me, with him, it was easy.  I always saw the best in him.  I always believed he was able, and capable. I knew he was not the man he appeared to be by his actions.  Jonathan taught me how to look past a person's struggles and see the heart of the man inside.  Because of that I can say in confidence he was a good man.  He was so much better than what he settled for in life.  I never stopped doubting, I never stopped believing.  I always hoped he would see what I did, and become the man he was created to be.

Someday when I enter heaven, I am going to meet that man.  I will finally see the man on the outside matching the man I knew to be on the inside.  I'm going to see a man who is free.  He will be emotionally whole: no limits, no chains, no walls.  Its going to be amazing to truly see the man I loved exactly as he maker designed him to be!

It's Been One Year

Today, November 24th, is the one year anniversary of my husband's passing.  And so today, I want to introduce him to you.  But before I do, there is a song.  This song was on my heart all night as I tossed and turned that night.  I hardly knew it.  And when I awoke and listened to it, God spoke to my heart: This is what Jonathan would tell you today!  You need to know that Jonathan loved the Lord.  But he struggled deeply in this life.  He lived in bondage, and in chains.  And those chains held him back from experiencing the true love of God that He desires for us to know.  This song has continued to bring such healing, peace and confirmation to me throughout the past year.  Because I know that he is finally free!

This is Jonathan's song to me from heaven.  Born Again, Third Day

Friends, I would like to introduce you to my late husband, Jonathan.  Below is his obituary.

Jonathan, age 38, died on Wednesday, November 24, 2010. He  graduated from Ferndale High School. He was the president of Excellent Window Cleaning, in Rochester, Michigan since its formation in 1995. He was passionate about his business and loved the challenge of taking it to new levels. He cared greatly for his employees and partnered with them to succeed in work and in their personal life. He was a leader in the International Window Cleaning Association, having served several terms on the Board of Directors, and most recently served as Secretary. In 2009 he received the Ettore Award for lifetime achievement in the window cleaning industry. Jonathan enjoyed sunset cruises on the boat, and rebuilding classic cars; a 1951 Ford Truck & 1960 MGA. He was a devoted father. He loved the time he had with his children (Shannon, 13; Gabriel 2) and when they were with him the whole world stopped. He would spend hours on the floor playing games or scooping beans with construction tractors. He loved simple walks down the street, and summer trips to Crystal Mountain with his family. He and his wife would enjoy weekend trips to  Lake Michigan, classic car shows, and any adventure they found themselves in. Surviving Wife: Jennifer - they married July 13, 2002 Surviving Children: Shannon and Gabriel 

At All Times

I will bless the Lord at all times, His praise shall continually fill my mouth. Psalm 34:1.  In the past I read this verse and I understood it as always be praising God.  Like the old song says, "Praise Him in the morning, Praise Him in the noontime."  And I do believe it means that.  But after you've experienced a tragedy in your life: the loss of a loved one, a divorce, a betrayal, losing a job, this scripture takes on a much deeper meaning.

Praise God at all times.  Praise Him when your marriage is strong, and praise Him when its not!  Praise Him when you find out your pregnant, and when you can't conceive.  Praise Him when you can hold your husband in bed at night, and when you have to leave his body in the ground.  At every stage of life, in every situation, we are to Praise God.

Why does He want us to do that?  Doesn't He know how frustrated and angry we are when facing a tragedy?  Yes He does.  And He even understands your questioning.  But God is not the problem, He is the answer.  When we praise Him we are admitting to the fact that yes life sucks right now, but God you are bigger than this problem.  You still love me! Your love for me didn't stop the day this tragedy happened.  And you have a way to turn this around for good (Romans 8:28).  When we magnify God, He becomes bigger in our eyes, and the problem becomes smaller.  We give Him the place He deserves, Lord of our life.  When we praise Him in the good, bad, and ugly times of life, we are building our hope in an unchanging God.  He is good!  He is always good! And I trust Him.

Anyone can praise God when things are going well.  When you move into your dream house, when you get a promotion, when you meet and marry the man of your dreams.  But the true test of our faith and trust in God comes in the hardest of times.  Can you praise God when your spouse betrays you, when you live in the hell created by a loved one's addictions, and when you walk into an empty house the day of the funeral knowing you will never see his face in this world again.  Can you praise God then?  

God you are faithful! You have good plans for me!  You make me an overcomer! You are good.  God you work things out for me because I love you and am called according to your purpose.  You are my Healer.  You are healing my heart.  You are taking away this sorrow! You are my comfort!  I turn to you Father.  I know you love me! I know you love me! I know you love me!  And I love you too!

The Different Faces of Loss

Loss has so many angles to it.  Its a complex creature.  When I buried my husband last November, a significant part of my life died.  He was not only my husband, he was my provider.  He was my friend.  He was my children's father. He was a businessman, and a boss.  He had so many different roles and I believe each one must be grieved and healed.

Mourning my protector:
I've been writing a lot lately about being alone.  I've been taking many different adventures on my own- traveling to Indianapolis for the Monumental Half Marathon, heading into downtown Detroit for  The Call, or just going out to dinner by myself.  The desire to take these risks, and the victory that comes with each feat, is proof that I have healed over the loss of my protector.  I didn't even realize he was, until I felt that void.  I needed to grieve for my protector. And now that I'm independent, I recognize that void has been healed.

Mourning my children's father:
I vividly remember one Sunday morning at church when I couldn't stop crying.  All I could think about was my son and the fact that he didn't have a dad.  That truth had been reality for well over 6 months, but that morning the reality hit me.  Grief does that.  You'll be fine for months, then out of no where you have this thought and its as if its the first time you ever had it.  "He's really gone."  Thats what happened that morning.  And I wept at the altar.  I wept for my son. I carried his loss.  And then I prayed.  I prayed for God to heal my son's heart.  That God would be the Daddy he needed until his "new daddy" came. And I prayed for that new daddy. I asked God to give me wisdom, and patience to allow the right man into my son's life.

I have mourned for him.  I have mourned my husband. I have mourned my friend. I have mourned my marriage.  I have mourned my children's father. I have mourned my protector, and my provider.  Most of all I have mourned the life that was needlessly cut short. I find great sorrow in the wasted life.  And I trust God to help me overcome that.  I know I can lay that sorrow, hurt and grief at the foot of the cross.  For he promised to turn my mourning into dancing, and my sorrow into joy! (Psalm 30:11, Jeremiah 31:13)

A Positive Focus

As most of you know, the one year anniversary of my late husband's death is quick approaching.  He died the day before Thanksgiving last year, and this year it actually falls on Thanksgiving.  I was really concerned about how hard this month was going to be, especially when the 1st of November was so tough.  But I've been doing extremely well, considering it all.  I'm not saying I haven't had moments of emotion, or that I haven't grieved, I have.  But overall I've been emotionally stable, and full of more joy than I expected.  I believe its for one reason: I have had positive things to focus on!

I thank God for getting me into running, and stirring my heart to run a half marathon before the one year mark.  It has been probably the biggest focus of my life for the past few weeks.  If you didn't read the blog "The Indianapolis Monumental Half Marathon" you don't know what an amazing weekend it was, or how healing that 13.1 mile accomplishment was for me.  That race was so much more than just that weekend.  Its been a focus, something which is consuming a decent amount of time in training daily.  And even though its over, I still revel in the glory of that moment!  It has been a source of positive thoughts, positive actions, and positive emotions.

I also have my focus on working on a schedule during the day with my son, which I wrote about in "Time to Stop Reacting". This has set my mind on what we are supposed to be doing during the day: staying on a schedule, spending quality time with my son, and being proactive in completing tasks I need to complete.  I've been alert and aware of these things all through out our day.  And its been extremely rewarding.  I feel accomplished because of the amount of tasks I can check off, I'm appreciating my son more and the time we spend together. The structure has helped my son's behavior to improve dramatically, which has reduced my frustration and brought a greater satisfaction when interacting with him.


Finally another major focus of my time is the classes which I am taking for Rochester Ministry Training Institute.  I have 3 classes which require outside reading and homework.  And the content of these classes is so rich.  I'm flooding my head with new levels of understand of God, His Word, and the way ministry works.  

Since I have so many positive focuses in my life, the majority of my time is spent focused on positive: what I have, what God's showing me, and preparing for my future.  The beauty of a positive focus is that it keeps the negative thoughts away.  You can't be positive and negative at the same time.  By filling my life with things that are rewarding, valuable, exciting and positive, I am giving my emotions a heading. Much like a ship sets sail knowing what direction it needs to be going to reach its final destination, positive thoughts and activities set the course for my emotions.  


I wish I could say I was smart enough to think of this on my own and plan it on purpose.  But its God's leading that helped me to plan this month in a way that I would dictate its direction, instead of it dictating me.  I've had hard moments: moments of regret, sadness and grief.  but they have been just that: moments.  I know I'm barely half way through the month, and the anniversary date is still ahead, but I know that with the focus I've had, I will be able to handle what still awaits me.

God reminds us in Phillipians 4:8, "Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy—meditate on these things."  And I would add, participate in these things.  For God has said that as we think, so we will become.  So if I think on positive events, instead of dwelling on and mulling over the negative one, which I can't change anyway, I will become positive.


I challenge you today, what negative event are you focusing on? Stop!  Plan some positive activities and thoughts into your life.  Your focus will shift and you will experience peace, even in the midst of challenges.

Changed

There is something about experiencing a tragedy that changes you.  Its not necessarily a bad change, but its change nonetheless.  I have experienced two major "moments" in life which caused a season of rediscovery:  realizing who I am, what I enjoy, and why I believe what I believe.  Those two events were the major shake-up in the foundation of my marriage, and 2  years later the loss of my husband.


The change happens differently for each person.  It could be a change in your physical appearance, your style, your hobbies, how you spend your time, even your beliefs.   When we encounter tragedy our life changes in such ways that certain pieces no longer fit in our new lives.


I've felt this very recently as I've been beginning to make new friends. People will ask me what I like to do for fun.  And I sit there and have to really think about that.  That is not a normal response.  I'm sure when I mentioned that question you immediately had 3-4 past-times hit your brain, automatically without the need to think about it.  But not me.  See 2 years ago, had I been asked that question I would have said: scrapbooking, boating, taking walks as a family, and trips to the west side of the state.  All those activities were things I enjoyed, and most of them were done with my husband.  But today none of those activities are things that I do.  It doesn't mean I no longer enjoy them, because I would.  But they do not fit into my new life.  


Scrapbooking was my passion for 10 years.  But now, I simply don't have the time, the energy or the emotional determination to plan and craft a detailed scrapbook page.  I have no interest in it whatsoever.  As for boating, traveling to the west side of the state, and family walks, well... those were things Jonathan loved and enjoyed, and I don't find the same satisfaction in them I once did.  Really they were his interests which became our activities.

With the lose of a spouse, or even the lose of a marriage to divorce, there is an additional death which occurs.  Part of you dies with them.  And what is left is different.  You will never be that same person that you once were.  That life you had is over and done.  But the part of you that dies, leaves room for new life to spring forth.  Your life changes, and again, it isn't always for the worst.  "I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat is planted in the soil and dies, it remains alone. But its death will produce many new kernels—a plentiful harvest of new lives." John 12:24 (NLT)  


When that seed of our old life dies, what springs forth is a fresh new opportunity.  There are so many wonderful things I am doing right now that I would never have experienced had my husband not passed away.  First of all, I am running his business, and I am loving it! I can't describe the passion that is building in me for this company, and primarily the staff that works in it.  I am constantly challenged and am honored to lead some of the most dedicated and driven men.  I get to support them as they succeed and its so rewarding.  I have also started running, which if you follow my posts you know the amazing healing impact it has had on my life.  I'm in the best physical shape of my life, I'm losing weight, and I'm accomplishing difficult goals.  Finally, I'm blogging.  I am not a writer by nature.  I've never enjoyed writing or been particularly good at it.  But blogging creates such an amazing platform for healing.  Not only my personal healing, but to use my life as an inspiration to others. My heart is to become active in God's calling for my life: to reach women and I recognize that this blog is already touching women I don't even know, and may never meet.

When Jonathan died, a part of my life died with him.  The woman I was on November 24, 2010 is not the same woman I am today.  My old life was buried with him, and everyday I am discovering new trails along the "new life" path.  Its confusing, its exciting, its refreshing.  I'm rediscovering "Jenn":  Who I am, what I enjoy, and what God wants to do in and through me.  I'm not sad for the part of me that has died and been sown into the ground, because I know it will bring forth something great! Sometimes you lose a part of who you were, to make room for who you will become!  I'm not afraid for the future.  For I know God has promised to take me from glory to glory!  He has said that no matter how wonderful my yesterdays were, my tomorrows are going to be even more amazing!

When the day comes

Everyone one of us will encounter one of those days. Its the kind of day that shapes your life, you remember the most odd details from that day.  I remember where I was when the space shuttle challenger blew up.  I remember what I was doing, what I was wearing, and who first told me about the attack on the Twin Towers.  From my own personal life I also have a vivid recall of the blue shiny jammies I wore at age 5 when my dad moved out.  I clearly remember the date 1/26/09, the day my whole life as it was started crumbling.  And on 11/24/2010 when I got "the call" at 5:15 in the morning that my husband had an accident and was in the ER.  Its days like that which impact your life in such tremendous ways.  You almost never see them coming, and it seems as though there is no time to prepare.

One of the great lessons God showed me this weekend was the importance of training.  Come along on a journey with me, and you'll see how it all fits together to those days described above.  I had a "big day" this past weekend, it was the day I ran my first half marathon.  Thats 13.1 miles for you non-runners.  I'd say that's a major life shaping event which I will never forget.  But it didn't start on Saturday.  It started 2 months prior, when I went out and took my first run in preparation.  I was preparing for the big day- even though I didn't even know when or where I was racing.  I went out for 3 strengthening runs each week, starting at 3 miles and increasing up to 5 miles.  I even worked harder by taking my son along with me in the jogging stroller.  During these runs I built capacity, strength, and determination.  Every Saturday I went out for a long run, starting at 4 miles and ending at 9.  I built endurance, I saw my speed increase without effort, I learned to encourage myself when I got tired, I broke every personal record, and I built my ability with a few hills.

This training period lasted for 7 weeks.  It slowly built up my body and muscles to handle a 13.1 mile run.  It got my heart in shape, where I could run over 2 hours, and not lose my breath.  It helped me build confidence and more importantly endurance.  I learned how to work with my body to go the distance.  I was able to try out different methods: pacing, what to eat, what to drink, etc.  When race day came, I was ready.  I was confident.  I knew I was prepared, and that I was going to cross that finish line.  I knew my running well enough that I was able to set and meet a reasonable goal of under 3 hours.

As I ran, I knew the impact my training had on me.  When I passed the 9 mile marker, and I wasn't out of breath or even remotely tired, I knew it was the training kicking it.  When other people started slowing down, and taking more walk breaks, I kept going steady as can be.  I actually had a slightly faster pace the last half of the race, than the first.  I knew when to drink and when not too.  I was completely sure I was going to make it.  And to be honest, while it wasn't "easy", its wasn't a struggle either.  Don't get me wrong, running 13.1 was hard, but because I trained for 2 months and my body was ready I never had a moment of "I can't do it", "I have to walk", or "I just wanna die!".  That didn't happen to me.  After 9 miles I started counting down miles and encouraging myself. I knew I could do it, and mentally it was a very easy sell, because of the training.

Life is exactly the same way.  Remember those days we mentioned before? We are all gonna have them.  Maybe its the day a loved one dies, or you or your spouse lose a job.  Maybe its the day that someone you love receives a horrible diagnosis, or you have a break in a close relationship.  Life is hard, and it happens to everyone.  It seems like it happens out of no where, and you feel unprepared.  But that is not the truth.

We all have a "training" season in life.  Its the good times.  Its when everything is going well.  And how we "train" determines how the event effects us.  I trained for the half marathon and when the day came I conquered.  I was a victor.  I came through it without injury or harm. I came out stronger!  Imagine if I hadn't trained, how different that day would have been.  I wouldn't have finished.  I could've been injured or even died.  I would have left feeling like a failure and a defeat.  I would have said that a half marathon is just too big of an obstacle for me.

So the day my world fell apart, when my husband confessed his secret life to me, or the day he died, I was prepared.  I had been training.  I have a personal relationship with Jesus.  Everyday I spend time with Him.  I read the Bible, I pray, and I worship Him.  Training. When I encounter challenges, even the small ones, I seek Him.  When I read the Bible, it shows me how to live, and I choose to follow those ways.  Training. I sing praise and worship songs to Him, and I thank Him for what He has done in my life.  I attend a church that teaches me how to live, and gives me a personal encounter with His presence.  Its all training.

People would tell me through the funeral process, and even now, "You are so strong".  And I respond, "I'm not.  I'm a girl who knows how to connect with God."  And its true.  Because of my "training" time, I am able to walk through this season knowing I can do it, knowing I won't fail, breathing comfortably because I've set my pace right.  I know I'll cross the finish line, and I'm counting down the miles.  I'm not in a state of despair, or  injured beyond repair.  I'm putting one foot in front of the other saying, "Go on Jenn, 3 more miles.  You can do this!"  I'm not saying its been easy and it hasn't hurt.  It has hurt, more than I hope any of you will ever experience.  But when the day came,  I was prepared.

These days, difficult life events, will come.  But its the training you do now which will determine how you come through this: victor or victim.  I've decided I'm crossing the finish line and I'm gonna receive my medal. I'm gonna let this experience make me stronger,  How about you?

No Thanks!

The very moment I opened my eyes, I saw it.  November 1. As I reached to turn off my alarm, my heart sank.  November.  I didn't recognize how much I have been dreading this month until it came.  For the past year the only time I've referred to November was in reference to my husband's death.  "When did he die?" November.  I've been on my own since November.  Last November he fell apart.  You get my point.  The full impact of all the statements I've made for 11 months hit me like a concrete boulder before I even got out of bed.

As I walked into work today, I was extremely aware of Jonathan.  I entered HIS office, which looks 95% the same as the last time he walked out of it.  I sat in HIS chair and I stared into the distance.  I've been operating in this office, as "mine" for 11 months.  But at this moment it didn't feel like mine at all.  Pulling out of the daze I opened the top desk drawer, "I guess its time I make this mine."  And I finally cleaned that one drawer out.  I have been operating as him for so long, that I never stopped and cleaned out his desk, his briefcase, basically anything in the office.  So I made this small step.  Then I walked into another office to file somethings and one of our managers says to me, "How are you?"  I tried to muster up strength, but he read through it.  I fell apart and said "Its November." I didn't even need to explain. He know exactly what I meant. "We all feel it" was his response.  And I know its true.  I know I'm not the only one hurting as the dreaded day approaches.

I wish I had an option.  Cause I really just wanna say "No Thanks!" Life as a widow.... no thanks!  Raising a son on my own... no thanks!  Cleaning out my husband's office... no thanks!  Facing the year anniversary... no thanks!  But I don't have that choice.  Life hasn't given me that option.

So I ask you, my friends who are sharing this journey with me, to pray for me.  Pray that God will renew my strength because some days I just wanna pass on this whole journey.  Pray for God to complete the work He has started in healing me.  Pray for God to use my life as a way to reach others for Him.  Pray for my son.  Pray that God will continue to heal his little heart.  Pray that he would not feel the enormous void in his life.  Pray that his behavior will improve, and that God will give me wisdom and patience to handle him appropriately.  Pray for my 14 year old (step) daughter.  Pray that she would have peace and understanding about why her dad is no longer here, and her heart would heal.  Pray that she would draw closer to God, and not drift away.  Pray for our family bond will stay strong.  Pray for our employees.  They loved Jonathan, as much as we did.  As one of them told me, "He was the best boss we ever had!" Pray that they will remember the good, and forget the bad.  Pray that they will keep his spirit alive in the company.  Most of all pray that this month if full of joy and peace for all of us.

Thank you for walking with me.  Thank you for praying with me.  Thank you for sharing my story.

-Jenn

New Traditions: Halloween

Last year this time, my late husband was so excited about taking our son Trick or Treating for the first time!  We had always been very hesitant to celebrate the holiday, due to the overwhelmingly "evil" tendencies it had.  But Jonathan decided Halloween 2010 was the year, we were going to join our American culture and trick or treat.  It was going to be just the boys.  Unfortunately Jonathan was in the hospital on Halloween and despite his begging, wasn't released until the next day.  Yet another one of our son's milestones that he had missed due to his issues.

I've been so mindful of that entire situation as Halloween has been approaching.  Remembering how Jonathan was going to take him for the first time, and wondering what I should do.  My son has been so excited for months about Halloween.  He learned about it from one of his children's shows, and even role played trick or treating long before I ever introduced it to him.  So I knew this year there was no escaping it. Yes, for certain this year our family was officially celebrating Halloween!

So last night I dressed up my son in his Buzz Light Year costume, and we hit the streets.  Just me and my boy.  As we walked down the lamp lit street, my son in my arms, I could hear our theme song playing in my head.  "Just the two of us, we can make it if we try, Just the two of us... you and I" (Yes we actually have a theme song! Just the Two of Us, by Will Smith)   Here it was another event, another holiday, another milestone Daddy was missing.  But this year there is no saying he'll be there next time.  Daddy is gone, and until God sees fit to bring a new Daddy into my son's life, the father figure is going to be lacking.  Its a feeling you think you'll get used to, but you never do.

 My son and I are blazing a trail, through the desert of life, just the two of us.   Its a beautiful opportunity that most people don't have, and one that I almost feel guilty appreciating; we are creating new family traditions. We get to decide what we want our life, holidays and events to be.  And if we don't like it, we can change it.  Life isn't the same, it never will be.  But a new normal is being molded, each and every day.

Last night we started a new family tradition: Trick or Treating.  I spent a wonderful evening with my son: quality time talking, walking, and laughing.  He said some of the cutest, and odd, things tonight.  He had a wonderful time meeting people, getting candy, and being adorable.  And I drank in every moment.  I'm grateful I was there. I'm grateful I got to experience the fullness of my son's first Halloween.  Most of all I'm grateful that God has given us a new start.  Life really can be full of joy and excitement; beautiful new experiences which overshadow the negative realities of the past.  That's God's miracle power of healing.

The Power of a Room

There is this room in my house...  For the past 11 months it has had tremendous power over me. When I walk past its open door, it always pulls a glance its way.  When I enter it, the reality of past hurts await me.  It is the room in which my husband died.

I wasn't home the night he died, and I didn't want to return home either, because he had died there.  But the fact is, I have my dream home.  Its my home, God gave it to me,  and I love it! Filled with the encouragement and support of my friends, I returned home after burying my husband.  And in a short amount of time I "got over" the fact that he died here... all except for that room.  The first time I entered it after he died, I literally spoke out loud to it.  "Room, you will not have any power over me!"  But despite my words, it did.  And it has for months.  I  got rid of all the furniture that was in there, because I thought it would help.  However, it only served to make it worse.  It became cold and sterile, like a crime scene: white walls, white carpet, no furniture, no drapes.

Last winter my best friend encouraged me, "you should do something wonderful with that room.  Make it your prayer room.  Give the devil a black eye."  I loved the idea, but resisted.  "I don't think I can be in that room, with my eyes closed...."  I told her.  It was due to the trauma I suffered at a young age which caused a fear of death. I dealt with that fear most of my life.  Although in recent years God set me free from it, I knew I couldn't possibly be comfortable in that room, not at night, not with my eyes closed.

But something amazing happened over the next few days.  As I was praying in my bedroom I had this desire to go in the room, and pray there.  So I decided to make it my prayer room.  I began praying in there last winter, and I would consistently spend my quiet time with God in there.  I loved the idea of taking what had been a symbol  of pain and a scar of my loss, and using it for something beautiful and purposeful.  All the while, there was still this uncomfortableness about it.

A few weeks ago I was starting to really struggle with grief, which I am sure is normal as I approach the one year anniversary.  As I would pray in there, my eyes would be drawn to the spot of the room where I envisioned him dying, and I'd be distracted by grief.

 I decided it was time to take this "crime scene" of a room, and physically turn it into my prayer room.  I bought some paint, a rug, and curtains.  I pulled some shelves from the basement, and went to work.  In the process of finishing this project something changed; there was a shift.  The room lost its power!  The very first morning I entered my prayer room, the joy of the Lord was waiting for me.  I had the most joyful, happy, peaceful time in prayer, that I've had in months.  I now glance down the hall, and instead of an eeriness, I'm hungry to pray.  The rooms calls to me, to come and be with my Jesus, to spend time with Him, morning, noon or night.

I absolutely love praying, worshipping, or reading my Bible in there.  It is no longer "the room", it's now truly my prayer room.  What has happened in that room no longer bothers me.  On the contrary, its very healing. There is something so beautiful about having intimate moments with my Maker, in the exact place where my husband experienced his most intimate of moments with Him- going home!  The room is a picture of my life.  God is taking something empty, barren and cold- a reflection of all my hurts and pains, and turning it into something utterly beautiful!