Please be slow to judge me

For the sake of this article, “I” am anyone you might encounter.

A few of you (likely a very few) are probably very excited by the Christmas décor up in stores and Christmas music playing on the radio. The rest of you are probably disgusted by the retailers shoving Christmas in your face before Thanksgiving and I have heard chorus upon chorus of “it’s too early” where the Christmas music is concerned.

Christmas – and the holiday season as a whole – will be different for me this year.

Perhaps I’m already joyfully listening to Christmas carols.

Perhaps I won’t listen to them at all.

Perhaps I will have all of my Christmas decorations up by this weekend.

Perhaps I won’t decorate this year.

Perhaps I will take great delight in every ounce of festivity I’m subjected to.

Perhaps I will be a scrooge at every turn.

Perhaps I will say Merry Christmas to everyone I see.

Perhaps I will be the refrain of Bah Humbug.

Perhaps I will attend every party, gathering, and event I can find.

Perhaps I will stay at home, grateful to be by myself.

Perhaps I will have myself a Happy Hallothankmas.

Perhaps I will boycott all three.

Perhaps decorating now gives me the opportunity to prepare myself for the onslaught of emotions.

Perhaps there is no amount of time that could prepare me.

Perhaps I am waiting for Christmas as a reminder that life goes on.

Perhaps I am dreading Christmas because it’s a reminder that life goes on.

Perhaps… I’m somewhere in the middle.

Please, be slow to judge me. Maybe you know what I’ve gone through this year. Maybe you don’t. Maybe you know me intimately and personally. Maybe I’m just that happy / cranky shopper you see in the store. Please, be slow to judge me. Christmas for me will be different this year. Give me a moment to explain.

This year…      I lost my mom / dad

                        I lost my husband / wife
                        I lost my sister / brother
                        I lost my son / daughter
                        I lost my grandmother / grandfather
                        I got divorced
                        I lost my job
                        I moved away from my whole family and won’t be home for Christmas this year
                        I / my loved one was diagnosed with a terminal illness

For a moment, just for a moment, lay down the commercialism that Christmas brings to the stores. Take a moment and stop assuming that people that enjoy Christmas aren’t thankful because they become “festive” before Thanksgiving. As Christians, Christmas is one of the days that we are MOST thankful. Christmas symbolizes the birth of our Savior. For so many, Christmas means so much more than the songs on the radio and the displays in the store. Christmas represents memories – perhaps memories are all that is left. Actually shouldn’t we “feel” Christmas all year long? Instead of focusing on the commercialism of Christmas, focus on the love.

Please… be slow to judge me. Christmas will be different for me this year.

Where is God

Even though we're not apt to admit it, most of us, on some level, are control freaks. We like to disguise that little nugget by exclaiming that we simply have a life plan. At 18, my high school sweetheart and I will graduate high school. At 21, during our junior year of college we will get engaged. At 22, we will both graduate college and have "this" job. We will marry at 23. By 27, we will have 2 kids (a boy and a girl), a dog, and a house with a fence. We will live happily ever after.

In that neatly laid out life plan, we don't stop to consider any diversion. We don't plan on infertility. We don't plan on losing a job and then perhaps our home. We don't plan on a child with special needs or a teenager with a drug problem. We don't plan on a cancer diagnosis. We don't plan on aging parents, unwed teenage pregnancies, raising grandchildren, burying parents, etc. It's simply NOT part of the plan.

Oh how we get angry when we get thrown those curve balls. What? Wait? God, why? Where are you in all of this? Don't You see me suffering? My life is not going according to plan.

Yet it very much is. Perhaps, instead of asking where God is, perhaps we should ponder why we don't see Him in the curve balls. Because we could. If we just look.

But YOU don't understand. This hurts! My life is changed. This wasn't MY plan. I do get it. I do. I've said that statement oh so many times. I've even said it knowing that God's plan for me has to be better than my plan for me. How dare He change my plans.

To be brutally honest, the last two years have felt at times - in my mind - like I was living hell on earth. In retrospect, God actually gave me more gifts and blessings than I could have imagined at the time.

In November of 2012, my daughter came home pregnant and unwed. To use the word furious would be THE biggest understatement imaginable. We accepted the reality and formulated a new plan. Nope! Through various circumstances, Johnny and I found ourselves in the position of raising Bella. Hmm, definitely not sure THAT was part of the plan. By December 2013, Christmas morning to be exact, we began what would be my mom's last leg of her journey on this earth. By February 2014, we had her diagnosis. A reoccurrence of her lung cancer, this time Stage IV. Months of treatments culminating in words she didn't want to hear. Finally the gracious act of our Father healing her perfect and calling her home on August 7th.

Do you really think ANY of that could've been MY plan. Um, no. Just no. Did God cause the pregnancy? The circumstances through us gaining Bella? My mom's cancer? No!!!!! But every bit of it, every single moment WAS filtered through His hands. And now, sitting in a hospital room in Children's Hospital at 3:36 in the morning, I am grateful for it ALL.

When Issabella Grace was born, she wasn't just her mother's gift. She was mine, her Poppa's, her maw maw's (oh how much her maw maw's), the rest of her extended family, and I'm convinced the world at large. Her sheer existence brought a joy to my mother that I have NEVER seen. Hurting - she still wanted Bella. Sick - she still wanted Bella. Bella didn't look at her funny when she was bald. It was a toss up as to whose face held the most joy when they saw one another.

Mother died almost three weeks to the day after Bells' first birthday. She saw almost all of Bells' most important firsts. Each holiday, first tooth, first word, first steps. I will thank God and always cherish that year of immense joy in the midst of heartache that He gave my mother. By giving her that gift, He gave it to us as well.

God gave us time with mother. Sometimes, when you know, and I think we all "knew", it really is a gift. We talked, spent time, laughed, argued - all of it. I wouldn't trade any of it.

Despite losing my dad, both my siblings, all of my grandparents, and an uncle I was extremely close to, nothing and I do mean NOTHING prepared me for the heart break of losing my mother. The woman that I loved so fiercely but with every fiber of my being fought to be the exact opposite. I have stated multiple times since her death that I just didn't think it would hurt this much. What kind of moron thinks THAT???

But even in my grief, God has given me a gift. He's made me softer. He's given me the desire to truly find myself. Despite the discomfort of some of it, He's allowing those that love me to see the tender, vulnerable side of me. I'm not sure they like it, because some days I don't.

As for Bella, well, I've never been more tired in my life. She challenges me. She frustrates me. She makes me feel really, REALLY old. But, and there is a giant BUT, I couldn't imagine a greater gift or blessing in my life if I tried. This is the happiest, sweetest, most affectionate human I think I've ever been privileged to be around. Such a sweet little human. A tiny little being that God has already used to bring so much to so many. It's funny to be 43 and wish that I could be like a 1 year old - but I do. Her enthusiasm, her joy, her capacity to love... I WANT IT!!!

So, yes, God's always there. It's just that most of the time, we don't even try to look for Him. His ways are so much better than our own. We just need to follow His plan for our lives. It would be much easier at that point to follow along joyfully. 😊😊😊

Jeremiah 29:11

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

Despite every painful thing I've been through, I've never had more hope, never been more excited about my future than right now.

Why are we living in fear?

I have thought much about fear lately. I have often wondered if I were the weird one. Am I just too stupid to be fearful? I see it so much, every day. The things people are afraid of, the strange things people live in fear of, and frankly I just have a hard time understanding.

I have a handful of friends on fb that I can depend on to report EVERY terrible news story they come across. Murder, check. Rape, check. Child abuse, check. Animal abuse, check. Some weird new virus, illness, etc., check. I have no need to EVER flip on the news.

So as I scroll through the daily crap on my news feed, I definitely understand how the fires get fanned. Mercy. If you're already a fatalist and you get on fb, by day's end you'll have yourself or your family dead - or well on the way.

We have conspiracy theories about the government. Vaccines of any kind will surely kill us or make us stupid. If you breathe the air you're sure to catch herpegonnastaphaclap. And the list goes on.

The Bible / God's word addresses repeatedly that we are NOT to live in fear. Period. End of story. Fear doesn't come from God. It comes from the author of lies himself, satan.

My house has been robbed and everything taken in the past. I don't live in fear that it will happen again. I've been in car accidents. I don't live in fear that it will happen again. I've lost jobs, been sick, been divorced, been hurt. I don't live in fear that it will happen again. I don't worry about the economy, the president, enterovirus 69, Ebola, or germs in general. Why? Because my God is bigger.

Two scriptures come to mind...

Matthew 6:25-34 

“Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.

2 Timothy 1:7 

For God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control.

I love both of these!

So bear in mind that scare tactics should not work on any of us - ever!

Grieving as a Christian

Being a Christian, I know a couple of things. Number 1, I grieve with hope. Jesus Christ's crucifixion, death, burial, and resurrection singlehandedly conquered the grave. Number 2, although I don't have EVERY scripture in the Bible memorized, I like to think I'm fairly well versed in God's word. So, a few words to those that deal with me (and others) as I grieve...

(If you're easily offended, perhaps you should skip this post.)

Whether I've been grieving two days, two weeks, two months, or two years, please do not say nor imply that my faith is not what it should be because I still miss or cry over my loved one. It not only angers me and hurts my feelings, it's also rude and wrong.

When I choose to express that I still miss them, the appropriate response is NOT "well, you know they're in a better place." I do know that. But they're still not here and I miss them. And frankly, if I'm being honest, I'm a little (okay a lot) jealous that they're in Heaven without me.

Another personal favorite "it was just their time." Clearly, otherwise they'd still be here. It is appointed once to man to die. God knows that date at our moment of birth.

Then there's always "you wouldn't want him/her back like that." Thank you for making me feel like a heel. No I wouldn't want them to suffer anymore. Truly. But as a human being, feeling human feelings, why wouldn't I want my father, mother, sister, brother back? Thanks for making me feel selfish.

"It'll get better with time. / Time heals all wounds." Wrong. Wrong, wrong, and just WRONG! The gaping hole of losing my loved one will only be closed on the other side of eternity. Yes, I will eventually have more days that I don't spend crying. The grief won't be quite so intense. However, I am convinced grief never ends, it only changes. In January, my dad will have been dead 18 years. I STILL cry over him.

I know that we want to make people feel better. We want to fix it. We are uncomfortable with other people's pain. So we pull out scripture or some other words of wisdom passed down through the ages in an effort to try to say something, anything to stop the pain or the tears.

I applaud the compassion - just not the method. Sometimes, the most helpful thing you can say is nothing at all. Sometimes I need to hear that "yes, losing your "whoever" truly sucks." Maybe you could overlook your own discomfort and just let me cry while you hold my hand. I know it's hard.

Please know a few things about me while I make my way through this.
1-although it may not SEEM like it, I truly do grieve with hope. I'm blessed enough that my loved ones were saved. I know who has them and I know the One who holds my future.
2- I know my grieving makes you uncomfortable. Thank you for standing with me anyways.
3-I promise I won't always be THIS emotional.
4-please realize that I'm not broken. There's nothing wrong with me. You can't fix the problem. However, God will see me through this. This is my footprints in the sand moment where He is carrying me.
5-sometimes, I need your words. Most of the time, I don't. Your ear, your shoulder, they're enough.
6-I love you more than you will ever know for standing with me as I go through this. 7-when the time comes (and it will), I promise to do my best to stand with you during your grief. I will be an ear. I will be a shoulder. I promise not to doubt your faith because you're sad. I won't try to fix it with scripture or wise words. I will acknowledge your pain. I will acknowledge that it sucks. I will cry with you. I will listen when you tell me what you need and I won't get offended.
8-one day, none of this will matter because I will be before my Savior and reunited with all those gone before me.

You don't have to understand. You don't even have to try. Just be there. I promise, I promise, I promise, it's enough.

One of my favorite songs right now. It's called save a place for me.

Don't be mad if I cry
It just hurts so bad sometimes
'Cause everyday it's sinking in
And I have to say goodbye all over again

You know I bet it feels good
To have the weight of this world
Off Your shoulders now
I'm dreaming of the day
When I'm finally there with You

Save a place for me, save a place for me
I'll be there soon, I'll be there soon
Save a place for me, save some grace for me
I'll be there soon, I'll be there soon

I have asked the questions why
But I guess the answer's for another time
So instead I'll pray with every tear
And be thankful for the time I had You here

So You just save a place for me, save a place for me
I'll be there soon, I'll be there soon
Save a place for me, save some grace for me
I'll be there soon, I'll be there

I wanna live my life just like You did
And make the most of my time just like You did
And I wanna make my home up in the sky
Just like You did, oh, but until I get there
Until I get there

Just save a place for me, save a place for me
'Cause I will be there soon

Save a place for me, save a place for me
I'll be there soon, I'll be there soon

Don't be mad if I cry
It just hurts so bad

Changes

I realized today that my mom's death has changed me. I know that sounds like a "duh" statement, but I don't just mean in the sense that she's gone. I didn't have to let her death change me. I could've just done the "regular hurting" part, stuffed the rest down, and went on about my merry way. Don't tell me you can't do that. Believe me, I've lost a lot, you can stuff anything you don't want to deal with. But that changes you too - and not for the better. But I digress...

I cried at lunch today. At work. With people around. I didn't even try not to. Most people would say "so, people do that all the time." Sure they do. But I don't. I struggle with that. It's part of my "stuff." It's weird and people don't understand it, but it's MY stuff.

You know what I realized today (although it's been true all along), no one ran from the room because of my weakness. No one thought I was a pansy. If they did, they were gracious enough not to say it out loud. Not one person in the room thought any different of me. Except for me. I thought differently of me.

Right now, at this particular point in my life, crying is not unusual. However, not feeling like I needed to stop was unusual.  I've made a conscious decision to grieve. Again, I know that might sound crazy that I've made the decision to grieve. Most people would be thinking "you have no choice in the matter." Wrong!!! I am an active, avid emotion stuffer. I will gladly eat any feeling I have.

Hmm, I'm sad today. Cake sounds great right about now. Hmm, I'm mad at so and so today. Why yes, I will have that extra large combo. I feel fabulous today. Oh, pizza sounds fantastic. So, yes, you can stuff those feelings. As I said, I have made a conscious decision to grieve my mother.

I think my emotions bother some close to me. I think others welcome it. I think some are so stunned by any display of emotion from me that they don't know what to think.

Actively feeling these emotions are HARD. I don't like it. There are days that the pain seems unbearable. Some days, I miss her so much I can't stand it. Some days, there's guilt for what our relationship wasn't. Some days, there's anger over a relationship that will never be. Some days, there's anger at them all because I'm "alone." Some days, are riddled with laughter thinking of the silly, goofy way she was. Some days, I long to be Bella's age snuggled in her lap. Most days, there's a quiet longing for a phone call, a conversation, simply the desire for it to be the way it was... crazy, dysfunctional, imperfect.

The thing is, feeling all those nasty, hard, yucky feelings, lets me feel the other feelings more intensely. By not ignoring one (the sucky, hard ones) I get the joy of really feeling the other. I find that the little things bother me less. I'm actively learning to acknowledge them and then let them go. Simple pleasures, well they're more pleasurable. I'm trying very hard to live in and enjoy the "right now."

So, yes, mother's death has changed me. Hopefully for the better. Grief is a beast. It's hard. And it hurts like hell. Grief kind of feels like you're taking a cheese grater to your very soul.  I won't even try to lie about that. But I pray that it molds me and changes me into a better person. A person that is more open. A person of true compassion. I pray that I learn to love myself the way others love me.

Every Breath Counts

Can I just be really blunt? Good. Cancer sucks. True story. Cancer has touched every aspect of my life. Don't ask me to financially support one cancer over another, because I won't. They are all worthy of eradication.

I have a fabulous cousin that fought a NASTY melanoma. I thank God that her husband and children still have her. Another cousin and several friends have fought breast cancer. I thank God they're here too. My husband has had Melanoma twice. I thank God for doctors that check him like a momma monkey checking her young because both were caught very early.

My mom...she had cancer twice. We were given four fabulous years between the first diagnosis and the second. We prayed, others prayed, she prayed, for her healing. You know what? God did heal her. He just chose to heal her perfect. Does it hurt that He chose to heal her that way? Any answer other than yes would be an outright lie. Am I thankful on some level that He took her home? Again yes.

I, more than anyone, know "our" story. The heartaches throughout life. The hurts. The losses. The battles. She was ready. Do I have any regrets? Just one - and it's not even mine to carry. Had the choice been mine, I would've chosen no treatment. Why? Because deep down I think we all knew it wasn't going to work. I would've liked for her last months to have been without sickness and without pain of any kind. However, the choice wasn't mine. I fully and wholeheartedly supported her decision - one I didn't agree with. And I knew the decision had been made for her child and grandchildren. Watching her hurt, watching her suffer, watching her deteriorate before my very eyes SUCKED!!! Do you hear me? It sucked. I cried. It broke my heart. I wouldn't have missed it for the world. Why? Every breath counts.

I was blessed enough in my life to get to be with the two people who gave me life as their earthly lives ended. Was it hard? Gosh, yes. I'm so thankful I was there. Every breath they took in their lives counted - including the last one.

Should the good Lord choose to take my dear, sweet husband first, I want the privilege of being there when that last sweet breath is taken and God calls him home. I pray that he would want to be with me. It's important.

You see, all of it counts. It's all important. Every single piece of our lives is important. Do I EVER want him to suffer in any capacity? NO. If that's the plan - suffering - I want to be with him. See, I love him. Love isn't just the good stuff. Sometimes it's really ugly and really painful and that stinks. But loving him means I want every aspect of his life intertwined with mine. Yes, that includes the pain.

Because every single breath he takes counts. Every single breath I take counts. Every single breath you take counts. Somebody wants to be there for each of them.

Sometimes, love hurts. It hurts a lot. Especially when we're near the end of life. I knew my mother was dying Tuesday, August 5th. The last words my mother ever spoke to me were "thank you." She never really regained consciousness much after that. But EVERY breath between that moment and 12:49 am, Thursday, August 7th counted! I thank God for each of them. I wouldn't have rushed through or missed any of them even though they were soul-crushingly painful.

Our last breath should never be at a time of our choosing. To do so, cheats us and our loved ones of vital breaths that count. No matter how much we might want to, we cannot protect our loved ones from the pain of losing us if we die before they do. Making it happen quickly so they don't "have to see us suffer" won't stop the pain of loss. I think, sometimes, the best we can hope for is for our loved ones to love us through our pain.