Forever

He's still part of me. He still affects my emotions, my feelings, and my actions. What I'm able to do, able to give, has changed. I think it's for a season, but I'm not positive. I recognize my limitations now more than ever before. Today I had to acknowledge my inabilities. I kind of hate them, but I have to recognize that they are real. 

I can't be at a friends baby shower. 

I can't meet a friends new baby. 

I can't attend a camp and give fully of myself. 

I can trust The Lord for restoration. I can rely on Him for hope when I feel like mine get smashed against the rocks. Like this week when I thought there was a chance, but a test told me there was no such thing. 

I'm learning to be honest with myself, with my emotions, and with others. I'm still learning how to trust others to care enough, how to be vulnerable. I'm learning how to not protect everyone else and to care about myself a little bit more. I'm learning what I need, what my heart truly desires. I'm also learning to do the things my heart beats for. 

Jonathan is in my subconscious all of the time and I'm thankful for the moments when he's allowed in the conscious. I am ony strong because I find my strength in The Lord, because I am allowing Him to touch and mold this horrible loss. 

Safe place

A woman gave her testimony at church this week, one of brokenness. My story is not like hers, but she brought hope. Jesus is hope. 

I'm different. The way I live is different. The way I interact with others is different. The way I interact with Jesus is different. I haven't known exactly what to do with all of that, especially as we figure out church. Being in this place on Sunday though, with this body of believers who were surrounding this woman with love and grace: I was safe. I cried. And cried. And cried. I cried like I haven't in months. I cried like I didn't know I needed to. I cried because I felt safe to cry, safe to let it all out. I didn't talk to anyone. I didn't receive any hugs or prayer. I just met Jesus. 

Jesus is hope. Though my faith has not waivered, though I stand firm in what I believe, how I interact with that truth has changed. And yet Jesus met me there. He is my hope. He heals the brokenhearted. Psalm 56:8 says that he keeps track of every sorrow and collects all my tears. Isaiah 53:4 says that he has borne our grief and carried our sorrow. Matthew 5:4 says blessed are they who mourn, for they shall be comforted. 

Jesus is hope, my hope. He will restore me. He will heal my broken heart. He will walk with me and carry me. He will not fail me. He will not forget me. Though I may have forgotten these words, He never left me. 

Do not give up. There is hope for restoration, for your future. Your mourning will turn into laughter, your sorrow into joy. Mine hasn't yet, not completely, but I know in whom my hope resides. I know I am safe in His arms, and so are you. I praise God today for time to weep and time to worship. 

Be

Do you have ever have that feeling where you need to vent your feelings? And it's not enough to vent them to a journal? I have this nagging feeling that I need to put out there for the world some of what's going on within me.

It seems strange, even to me, that the most recent things I have written still revolve around grief. Then I remember that it's only been 6 months and I don't feel so odd.

My experience. That's the only one I can share fully. I'm sure it's different, but maybe for someone it's similar. Maybe it provides hope to someone. Maybe it helps someone to see that they're not cracked. I know I feel it sometimes.

If you know me, you know that I am a shell of the person I used to be. My life before this time consisted of people. My nights, my weekends, my every waking moment was lived planning and scheduling people into my life. My husband was affected by this, but I didn't realize it. I was living the life I'd always lived, feeding off the relationships I was pouring into. I felt needed and probably didn't know the word "no." I didn't see any problem with this. I enjoyed it.

Today my world is drastically different, and I couldn't be happier. I find myself still speaking truth into people's lives, but only on occasion. It is no longer my desire to be surrounded by others. I enjoy nights like the one I'm currently in, where I sit with my husband and have a chat on the balcony listening to the Blues station my dad shared. I find peace in just being. I need rest after time with people, especially those who do not know the story. I am not myself in groups. I hold back, disengaging when I used to thrive.

I can't tell you the exact reason for the change though I have an idea. I do know the timing of the change. I'm thankful for the time, for the ability to process and feel in ways I never have before. As I see lives move on around me though, sometimes I feel stuck. I desire the things I'm missing. I listen to parents. I see babies. I experience greater joy upon birth than ever before, and yet the deepest sadness.

Some people get mad at God, or frustrated. I have no anger toward the one who created me. I know who He is. I know He's good and faithful. Even though my life looks nothing like what it used to, and there are things I greatly desire, He is not at fault for not having them. We live in a sinful, fallen world and there are crazy effects of that. They suck. They make life difficult at times. That doesn't change my Father though. And even though my relationship with Him looks drastically different than ever before, I'm so thankful that He hasn't changed.

Know that you're not alone. Know that He's got great plans for you. He loves you ever so dearly and wants your absolute best. He wants to hold you, walk with you, and take your worries. There is nothing in this life that will fulfill you like Him, and there is no place that will provide rest like Him. You are not crazy. You are not strange. Know Him, and be.

Teeter-totter

Balance is something we all strive for and, if you're like me, probably don't feel like you have achieved it very often. For me, this week was a reminder of how a little 1.5 pound man came into my life for a brief moment, and changed it forever. I'm thankful for the change, for the transition into a new season, and for the balance coming from it.

To achieve this balance I've taken some things out of my life, and I've found freedom and contentment in their place. Though I don't show my emotions very often outwardly, I am finding that my emotions are actually swayed pretty easily on the inside. More than anything, this causes discontentment in my life. Being a doer, an action person, also affects this. If you give me a list, my biggest goal of the day will include checking off everything on it. Even if the things on that list aren't life-giving, or necessary, they still need to be done.

This balance, and removal, process affects every part of my life. I'm figuring out what is necessary, what is good, what gives life, and what doesn't. I'm taking inventory of what I put into my life, what I allow into my life, and if it's needed or not. Ultimately, I'm working on taking care of my heart and finding contentment. I'm learning to say no and to set up boundaries. This means that I'm learning, slowly, how to not do everything and make everyone else happy.

1 Thessalonians 4:11 (ESV) and to aspire to live quietly, and to mind your own affairs, and to work with your hands, as we instructed you

1 Timothy 2:2-3 (ESV) for kings and all who are in high positions, that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way. This is good, and it is pleasing in the sight of God our Savior

How are you finding balance? 

How are you practicing self-care?

Rose Parade

Since living in California, there are many things we have not done, many things we have not experienced, so we have decided to do as much as possible now. First on that list was the Rose Bowl Parade. You can set up camp at 11am on Dec. 31 on the streets of Pasadena. Since I had to work, we decided to go over around 2am and see what we could find. It's an experience I recommend having at least once, but here's what we learned:

1. figure out where to park before you get there

2. do not sit close to a tow truck entrance to the parade

3. sit on the south side of Colorado (we faced the sun on the north side)

If you decide to go in the middle of the night, using a sleeping bag as a cocoon worked great to keep me warm. Many people brought along propane tanks with heaters attached and heat lamps like you see at restaurants. You don't need any lights because of the streetlights. Even the people who showed up behind us around 4:30am or so were in the third row, which still isn't that bad. More than anything, be respectful to the people who have been there longer than you and don't stand in front of them. 

Merry-go-round

One of the biggest things I'm learning with grief is that it's not a journey that goes in a straight line. Grief weaves in and out of your life, bringing memories when you least expect it. The best way I've heard grief explained is like a merry-go-round. You never know where the ride is going to stop.

If you're walking with someone through grief, give them space to share. Care about the words they say, even if it makes you feel uncomfortable. I won't promise you it's fun, but being there for someone as they grieve makes you a pretty amazing person because it's not something that very many people do.

For me, I know people care when they listen when I'm real, and don't just move on through my answer without acknowledging what I've said. I know people care when they tell me they think of Jonathan, or they remember what would have been his due date. I know people care when they join me in my memories and recognize that this journey isn't over. We received a balloon and a card for Christmas from a woman who has a website because she lost a child. I don't know how she got our name, and it was hard to receive at first because I hadn't been thinking about Jonathan and what his one year birthday would look like, but I'm thankful for it now. I'm thankful that someone was remembering him, us, and our story.

I'm sure grief looks different for everyone, and it's not something I expect everyone I know to walk with me through. I simply encourage you to be gentle with those who have lost someone. Find out from them what they need, and how you can continue to care for them. I appreciate the people who help me laugh every day, and am thankful that it's some of those same people who provide space for me to be real.

One day at a time, one day at a time.

Land mines

I know right?! Who chooses a title like that?

I appreciate that the Lord never fails us and never forgets about (forsakes) us. I have to admit that I don't always appreciate His timing.

I'm finding that it's actually not a lack of trust and faith in Him right now, but a lack of practice and living it. We very consciously took ourselves out of community and focused on our marriage. Our marriage needed that time, was blessed by that time. Without that intentional meeting of people together on a weekly basis though, I don't find myself talking about my faith as much.

Community is about living together with people, learning together with like-minded people, discussing life and the Lord and how it all works together. There's always a time of prayer and always space to encourage one another and be encouraged. Outside of an intentional group, it's funny how those key components don't happen. Encouragement and prayer should flow from us as Christians, but it doesn't. Maybe I'll leave that for another post.

What I'm finding right now is that I actually don't have a lack of faith and trust in the One that I've known my whole life. I have a lack of practice, a lack of living it. I also have frustrations because there are some unanswered prayers, or at least prayers I've wanted answered specifically that didn't happen the way I was hoping for. So I'm not over it, I'm not through it. There's still stuff, but I'm learning what the real stuff is.

Those land mines? I'm gonna call them all the ways in which I'm not content. I'm also gonna call them all the ways in which I feel like I get to fix it, when in reality I need to continue to let Him fix it. There's a lot of things I want right now that I don't have - hello discontentment. Some of those things I feel like I can touch, like I can be part of the solution. It can be good for me to get involved, but I have to continually remind myself, and be reminded, that I'm not superwoman. I'm not God.

So the journey continues. The one where I focus on Him and choose faith daily. The one where I choose to be intentional about talking to Him and giving him my wants because He's ultimately the one I trust to take care of them. The one where I choose to be intentional about sharing this life, giving and receiving encouragement. The one where I choose to let Him do the work because it's part of who He is. The one where I trust the Holy Spirit to lead me in Daddy's timing and stop trying to just do it my way.