Staggering Forward

My friend Rod Dreher posted this on my Facebook page.

Yes, Rod, yes...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mmbQEQltOwM

I keep going back to a phrase from the poet W.H. Auden: "Stagger onward rejoicing." Seems right in this situation. I'm also thinking of a line from that Leonard Cohen song "Hallelujah": "Love is not a victory march/It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah." Yep.

When Words Fail

Believe it or not, I have no doubt God has a purpose. I have no doubt of His love, mercy, or grace. I don't understand this week, but I have not understood most of the last 8 months...except that He continues to take care of the children and me.

But I will also tell you this, I am shell shocked. I do not even know what to pray, little less how to pray it. I keep remembering verses about "those who call on the name of the Lord". Thankfully, it is not "those with eloquent prayers made up of perfect words," because I have no words beyond, "Oh, holy God..." And my voice trails off because I am at a loss, but then maybe, as long as I know to start with Him I am not as lost as I thought.

With Loving Memories

 Rob Phillips

August 6, 1968-February 15, 2011

Rob Phillips suffered a massive heart attack just after midnight on February 15, 2011.

Despite medical efforts, he did not survive.

His family deeply appreciates your prayers as we deal with the shocking loss of such a wonderful man.

For each of you who have known and loved Rob...thank you.

If you would like to bless the family in some way, a trust fund has been set up for the children, donations can be made to the V-Foundation for Cancer Research, or you may contact the family for further ideas.

Thank you for your prayers.

Faith Defined

The best definition of faith I've ever heard:

"Faith is not about everything turning out OK;

Faith is about being OK no matter how things turn out." 

Thank you, Stacey, for sending this to me.

Umbrella Drinks in the Fire

Annoyingly, the rollercoaster is still in full swing. I feel like a pendulum Tarzan slamming from one extreme mood to another. Okay, well, that euphoric part of the manic is a bit elusive lately, but nonetheless. DESPITE THE MOOD PENDULUM TELEPORTATION, I know things are getting better...I am getting better.

First of all, I have really missed my mom this week. Like I told a friend of mine, I don't think I have really been congnizant of grieving Mom in the last 3 1/2 months. I've missed her, but I haven't grieved. This week I grieved. This week, my heart felt broken, and the tears fell with just the mention of her. That Is huge because it means the pain from the divorce is not so great that I find the grief of Mom's death too much. I am now stable enough with the divorce to address the emotions of losing Mom.

Of course, that also means I just swapped rollercoaster rides. Yeehaw.  

I'm also thinking through things faster and not getting lost in the pain, I think. In the last week a few things have slammed me really hard, and I've cried a lot, hurt a lot, but I've also prayed a lot, been still a lot, listened a lot, and thought a lot more clearly. And each time I've walked away from the "trigger" calmer, more focused, more...sure. I won't say I have a swagger in my step, but I do have a smile on my face.

And once again, I am able to see myself as a shaper of our future, not just someone trying to survive a helluva rough seven months, but someone who will flourish and have an amazing life. I can choose that. I'm not a victim. I am a visionary with determination and peace.

Oh, believe me, I am fully aware that tomorrow you could walk in and find me sobbing on my bedroom floor again. If so, just set the Kleenex box beside me. Feel free to sit down with me and wait it out or close the door behind you when you leave. Either is fine because today is good. Right NOW is good...in that "been through the fire and am still there but I'm learning how to enjoy an umbrella drink while I'm here" sort of way. :-)

Close to Home

Drove seventy-five miles to pick up our poodle Fluff at the vet today. I've known Dr. Larry Tisdale my whole life, seriously. He was my folks' vet when they showed and raised Walker Coon Hounds.

While we were talking, we talked about Rob and me. When I left, Larry hugged me, which he's never done, and just held me there a moment and said, "Honey, it's hard and it's painful, and I'm sorry you are going through this, but I'll be praying for you."

It was one of those "breathing" moments when you can't quite go home again...but you get close enough to feel the comfort...

Knowing

I grew up in church, there every time the doors were open, even when we were sick and there was no heater. I memorized verses. Sang hymns. Prayed at the old wooden altar, knees on the hard wood floors. I don't remember ever doubting there is a God, and I thought I knew God.

But the God I've seen in the last year is unlike anything I've ever known or experienced before.

I have been in awe of His power. I have been overwhelmed by His greatness.

Now I am undone by His gentleness.

I have never experienced such compassion or kindness in my whole life. It is as though He has stepped from His high throne as King and wrapped Himself in a towel...and I never understood. I am sure I don't understand now...but for the first time, I am beginning to know that He really does...

And while I am left thinking I do not know this God who is so patient in simply being with me...for me...I am mystified by the completeness of His knowing me.