consider it joy

Two years ago I watched as my husband’s heart pounded out its last beats.

Two years ago I was being thrust onto a path that I did not ask for nor did I choose for myself.  

Two years ago God was working behind the scenes in my life in a way that I could have never imagined; writing a story that I never thought possible.

There will never be a day when those scenes from Kyle’s last days here on earth don’t replay in my head, especially around the time that it happened. It was traumatic and life-altering. His heart stopped beating - yet mine kept going.

However I’ve noticed that as I look back on my life two years ago, not only do I remember the crushing pain that came with being forced to say goodbye, but I can also see the hand of God surrounding me, holding me, and creating a way for me.

I was recently talking to a friend of mine about the goodness of God.  It gets so easy to get caught up in the day-to-day of life’s disappointments that we fail to look at the overall picture to see where God has been and is at work.

It would be so easy for me to sit here and choose to be miserable at the fact that my husband isn't here.  It would be easy for me to choose to be angry that my children are without their dad.  It would be easy for me to choose to be bitter at those around me who have a partner to do life with, whose lives continued on even though my life felt at a standstill. And trust me, I have days where I struggle to fight off the temptation to get caught up in listing every thing that I wish I had.

But. When I find myself knee-deep in self-loathing I can always look to one fact to bring me back to a place of joy.

God has always been faithful to me! Always! 

I look back over the entirety of my thirty-seven years and I can see the different times where God absolutely carried me. I can see the times where God was working like a master stage-hand; gathering and planning things behind the curtain that I would need for the next scene without me even knowing.

But the past two years have been especially meaningful. 

If you'll recall, in the week after Kyle passed, I wrote about a letter I had received back in 1999 from my Grandma Esther. In this letter she had written to me about the loss of her own husband at a young age.  In her letter she wrote:

"I dearly loved him and thought I could never live without him. But God showed me otherwise. Because when he died, God was so close and protective and helped me in every way. It was a terrific experience to have God to depend on solely"

I remember reading these words after Kyle passed and being in awe of my grandma's faith. She was one of the most faithful, graceful women that I've known and I always aspired to be able to be just a fraction of the Christ-follower that she was. 


One of my friends actually made a wooden placard with my grandma's handwriting of that entire paragraph on it. It's hanging in my living room and I stop to read it often. 


As I stopped to read it this past week something occurred to me and it brought a smile to my face. 

Two years later and I realize that I could sit here today and write those exact words myself.

I stopped in my living room and marveled at the way God has encompassed me these past two years. Not only that, but I was filled with gratitude at how far He has brought me.

I dearly love(d) Kyle.  

And I really, honestly, and truly thought I could never live without him...

Satan would love for me to stop there. End of story. 


But, here's where the grace of God comes in.


I never thought I could live without him...but God has shown me otherwise. 


God has been so close and so protective.  Not only of me but of my children.  


God has been so helpful. So present. So near! 


And it has been an incredible experience to have God to depend on solely. 


The first year after Kyle passed my life felt like it was being flipped all kinds of ways. There were some high's and there were a lot of low's.


Within a nine month period: my husband died, I finished my undergraduate career, had a baby, three weeks after my baby was born, my toddler broke his femur and had to be in a half-body cast, I bought a home, moved myself & 4 children to a different state, and then my toddler fractured his ankle. This doesn't include all of the little pop-up things such as illness, kid's adjusting to their new normal, bills, and other mundane grown-up stuff.

It seemed like every time there was a little bit of peace in my life, I still couldn't quite relax because I was just waiting for the next ball to drop.


But then something amazing happened.


God caused me to slow down. 


Don't get me wrong, life was still life complete with mountaintops and valleys.  But God caused ME to realize that I had to slow down.

I started feeling like God was gently pulling on me.  He was trying to pull me back in to His arms.  I know I have written before about how I invited God into my grief journey, but I had stopped inviting Him into the rest of my journey. 


God helped me to take a step back and realize that I needed to re-center myself with Him. 


So, I vowed to spend 2017 working on myself, by myself, for myself. 

And what an amazing experience that has been!


I wanted to become the healthiest I've ever been emotionally, spiritually, physically, and mentally.  I put off my desire to apply to graduate school and decided to use 2017 as a year to take a proverbial deep breath and re-focus.


It's been during this time of introspection that I've been able to look back over my journey through widowhood thus far and see how God is woven throughout it.  And I also feel like God has given me tidbits into the future that awaits.


And it has brought me so much joy. 

I feel like in this past year God has not only restored all of my broken pieces but He has brought me to a better place than I have ever known before.  

I don't feel like I'm the same person that I was even two years ago.

I could have very well chosen to stay in a constant "woe is me" state of mind.  I could have chosen to walk around expecting everyone to feel sorry for me and take pity on me.  And I'm sure that people would have.  

But, at the end of the day, I have chosen to find the joy in my circumstances. 

I feel as if choosing to be angry, be upset, be miserable are all ways of not giving my  circumstances over to God.  And if I  don't give my  circumstances to God, then how can He work on them? I like having control over situations as much as the next person. I'm a mom; we're used to having control and being able to schedule and plan our our days.  That part just comes naturally.  But, there came a point where I realized that I couldn't have control AND have faith. God knows the end from the beginning.  He has insight that I certainly will never have.  He has known about my life and where it's going to go long before he ever formed me in my mother's womb.  So, I have to relinquish that control over to Him and trust fully that He will fulfill His promises to me. 

That's not to say that it's easy to just give it to God.  And there are some things in my life that I am having to daily pass back over to Him. But, I realized that whether I'm choosing joy or choosing misery - the time will still continue to pass.  Do I want to pass my time looking at everything that has gone wrong in my life?  Or do I want to pass my time being able to look at all the places in my life where God has made himself so abundantly clear?

I want for my life to bring God glory.  I want for this incredible story that He has written and is writing (valleys, mountain tops, and everything in between) to be used for His purpose.  I want to be able to look back on this part of my life in a few years with awe at how God was behind the scenes working even when I wasn't aware.  

It's so easy to praise God on the mountain tops.  But we are also supposed to praise in in the valley. 

In ALL things give thanks!

I have come to the end of 2017 feeling stronger in many ways.  I know God on a much deeper level.  I know myself more completely than I ever have before.  I feel more like a whole person on my own than what I ever imagined possible. 

And trust me, it hasn't necessarily been easy.  I have had many valley's along the way.

But, I know that God will bless my efforts and He will certainly continue to bless my journey.

the best of me

I apologize in advance if this blog branches off into all different directions.  I don't really have a set topic in mind that I wanted to talk about - but my heart has felt the need to release for a while now and so I knew I wanted to come here to let it do just that.

My laptop bit the big one and so writing hasn't been as easy to do as I have to pen it by hand and then transfer it to the big computer downstairs as I get a free minute.

It's been four months since I last wrote. That seems like an indicator that there is a healing of sorts that's been taking place.  

One thing I do know as a fact is that there will never be a day that I can or will declare that I am officially healed of all the heartache of my husband dying. There will never be a complete healing of my heartache until the day that I see Kyle again.  And honestly I don't wish for there to be a complete healing either.  Feeling this heartache in the background of my otherwise chaotic life is a reminder of the love that is still and will always be there for him.  The grief journey is just that - it's a journey.  There isn't an end destination (other than heaven itself) so no matter how my life moves forward, grief will always remain.

You may recall that last October I had quite the experience on a trip to Florida.  If you have a chance to click this link to give it a read (or a re-read) - please do.  It may be one of my favorite blogs to go back and read because I can feel the restoration that took place during that trip every time I read it. 

It was during that trip to Florida (more specifically to Ben Hill Griffin Stadium in Gainesville) that I felt Kyle forever sealed in my heart.  I have tried and tried to figure out how to put into words what I mean when I say that.  So I'm going to attempt to do just that.

When it comes to the average age that women become widows - I am an outlier; I am in the minority.  I consider myself fairly young.  And even according to the social security administration I am too young to be a widow - I concur. I was 35 when I assumed my title as "widow". 

I can not see myself being alone for the rest of my life. 

There I said it.

I miss the companionship.  I miss having that person that I could tell anything and every thing to.  My life is hectic.  But at the end of the day once homework is finished, kids are in bed, dishes are done, and laundry is folded - it's just me and this staggering peace in my home that I didn't ask for. I'm having to learn what to do in that peace.  But, I surely miss having my person.

I'm not dating anyone.  I'm not in a relationship.  I haven't gone on any dates since Kyle passed. 

But, when I had that experience at Florida Field last October - I felt like Kyle was with me.  I felt like he was giving me permission to live, to find happiness, to feel joy...to move forward; and not just where relationships are involved - but in life in general.  

And it was during that time that I felt like Kyle and all of the love that I have for him was sealed into my heart in a place where it would always be protected and would never be able to be touched.

Back when my oldest son played baseball he was given the game ball for one of his games.  His team had won that game and part of the reason was because my son had a double RBI.  His coach wrote the date on the ball as well as my son's stats for the game and all of the coaches signed it.  

That ball is SO special to all of us, especially to my son.  So, I bought a glass case for it to be displayed.  Because it's in a glass case we can look at it, read the words on it, reminisce about that day - but at the same time it is protected from any outside dangers - dust, water, my four-year-old's creative mind...haha! It sits on a shelf so that should he get any other awards, we can add those to the shelf as well. But, there will never be another Roughnecks game ball.

That is like this seal that I'm speaking of around my heart.  It is there to protect this love that I have for Kyle.  It keeps it safe.  It's still very much accessible, but I don't have to worry about anything happening to it. 

At the same time my heart has still has love in it to give.  I think I've mentioned it here before but I can't imagine not being able to love again in this lifetime.  Whether God has that already in place as a part of His plan for my life or not - I can't say.  But, it's also something that I have discovered that I could be open to.

I'm going to be open for a second; that seems to be the general theme of my entire blogging history.  But, a few months ago I made an account on a dating site.  I know, I know. It really wasn't with the intent to find someone - but more or less to see what kind of proverbial fish there are out there.  I closed it down almost as quickly as I signed up.  It became quite obvious to me that venturing into any dating world on this side of grief is going to be completely different from venturing into the dating world as a divorcee.  

And that is what makes me completely hesitant.

One big reason?  I honestly think it is going to be difficult for any man (who isn't a widower himself) to fully grasp the concept that I will always love Kyle, that Kyle will be talked about on a regular basis; not only for my sake but for the sake of my kids.  I can't really say that I would fault someone for not being able to understand that idea,  I'm sure I wouldn't have be able to fully grasp it either before I was in these shoes.

So this has led to God really working in me to work ON me.  

My focus at this time in my life is on me. 

When Kyle first died I was focused so much on our kids.  I wanted to make sure that their needs were being met.  There was nothing wrong and everything right with that mindset.  I needed to make sure that my children were able to transition into this new normal without Kyle and I knew that I could put myself on the back burner. And that I did. I let things on my end go downhill.

Early 2017 I really started doing some introspection.  I started trying to examine who I am, what my goals are.  When Kyle was alive we had goals as a married couple that intertwined with our individual goals.  But, as it happens when life changes - goals change. And I realized that my goals needed an update to fit my present and future circumstances.  

One thing that I decided to do was to start a bucket list of sorts.  Not a list of things that I want to do before I die - but a list of adventures to adventure while I am single.  It's a list of things to stretch my comfort levels, to push my boundaries, and to really be able to explore what it is that makes me, me.  

Some of the things on my list are easily doable such as go to a movie alone.  That may sound like a walk in the park but do you know that I had never been to a movie by myself in my entire 37 years? I already crossed that one off my list back in May and it was actually rather enjoyable.  

Other things that may be a little harder are things such as going out to eat at a nice restaurant alone.  I'm trying to figure out exactly how awkward that might be. 

Others include taking a conceal/carry class, do a 5K, sit in a coffee shop for an afternoon, take a weekend trip alone, etc.  I'm still adding here and there to my list.

I may very well never date again.  So I figure that this is training me to be able to do typical "date" things by myself. I want to get to the point that I'm completely comfortable with that.  

Another huge part of my focus has been on finding a church.  I hadn't been to church since before Kyle passed away.  I tried a couple of churches here and there over the past year, but about four months ago landed in a church at not only I felt at home in - but 75% of my kids love! :) My youngest is in an "attached to mom no matter what" phase so he's having to learn to be comfortable in the church nursery. But, this church was a big answer to prayer for us.  

Kyle and I had previously had discussions about the type of church we wanted our children to grow up in.  We had such fond memories of our youth group days and a church with a strong youth group similar to our own experiences was high on the list.  This church that we've been going to has a large youth group and as I read through their activities and missions - it reminded me so much of my own youth group and also of how Kyle would recall his youth group.  It has been a weight lifted off of my heart to find a place like this to grow with my family.  

And bonus - going to "big people church" alone is stretching out those "single wings" of mine.

One part of my grief class talked about taking care of your health. It was highly recommended that we see our doctors, get regular check up's and stay on top of our health.  Grief can do all sorts of things to your health that you may not even be aware of and I have four children to raise by myself.  

So, my health has been shifted to one of my top priorities.  

I found a doctor last October to go see for a physical.  Luckily my genetics have helped out with me being a pretty healthy human and all of my blood work and vitals came back normal - except for my weight which I already knew wasn't "normal".

So at the end of June of this year I started really zoning in on developing healthier eating habits as well as getting myself moving. I'm not sure what shifted with me - but I've hit a stride with my health that makes me so excited and often makes me say I don't even know who I am anymore. haha!

I'm down about 25 pounds since then (but not stopping there...), I am at my lowest weight as an adult,  and have remained faithful to going on a walk/jog four times per week at least. 

I saw my doctor again this month for my annual physical.  All of my "normal rage"  numbers from last year have all come down even more.  He said "whatever you're doing, keep doing it!". 

I have so much more energy and I can tell that overall my mood has seen a big shift. I feel so much joy in knowing that I'm taking care of myself. 

I feel myself getting stronger physically and mentally. Becoming healthier - exercising regularly - has been one of the best medicines I have found for my grief.

This has lead to me wanting to sign up to do a 5K next year as well as participate in what they call the Warrior Dash in May. 

I have clung to the mantra of "becoming the best version of myself" and I have determined to do just that.  

The song that Kyle and I danced to at our wedding was called Best of Me by Michael Buble.  It's a beautiful song about a person who had a failed relationship the first go 'round and how they found their "one more chance" and hope that they saved the best of themselves for their new love.  

Sometimes I feel guilty that Kyle didn't get this version of me; I truly feel like I'm morphing into this version of myself that I've never even known.  At the same time - I know that I gave him the best version of myself as I knew how.  And even still he is inspiring me, pushing me, to keep going on this journey that I'm on.  I hear him in the back of my head telling me he's proud of me for working so hard, and with that smirk on his face saying "I told you so".  

Do I still grieve?  Yes!  And I will until the day I die.  Grief doesn't ever just "go away".  The only difference is that I'm learning more how to cope when it does come; to embrace it.  The best thing I've learned is not to fight it; give in to the grief when it comes knocking.  

I no longer wish for the grief to just leave.  It is a reminder of the presence that Kyle still has in my heart.  Instead I have learned to appreciate the grief and the reason it is there.  

It's there because of the amount of love that I had and will always have for Kyle. 

one last step

I'm sitting outside, pen and paper in hand.  I've lost the cord to my laptop so I'm doing this old school style and will transfer it to the computer later.

I wish all of you could sit here and take this in with me; sunset, the sounds of summer (crickets and frogs), watching lightning bugs pop on and off all over the backyard.  It really is almost magical.

I wanted to share a few things that have been on my heart as of late. 

A couple of months ago I was in a dark place.  I'm not kidding. It was such a horrible place that I knew I was going to need to seek professional help by way of counseling.  A few weeks into this place that I had found myself, I had actually begun contacting a few counselors to discuss appointment times and fee information.  And I had left a message with my regular doctor to schedule an appointment to come in and speak to him about the possibility medication. I've been in the dumps before.  This was something different.

(I want to pause here to say something.  Guys, there is not a thing in the world that is wrong, or humiliating, or embarrassing, or weak about seeking mental professional help.  If you feel as if you have a broken leg - you don't sit at home waiting for it to heal up, you go to a doctor.  The same is true about mental health.  If you feel like you are on that ledge and that you need help, please ask for help!  If you feel ashamed or embarrassed - I will go with you and hold your hand!  I am not even kidding! I think there is a disconnect in our society today and most definitely a stigma that goes with mental illnesses; people are seen as broken or damaged and when someone is depressed their friends and family think that it's easy to just "snap out of it" or "think positive thoughts and it'll go away" or "just count your blessings".  In some cases, sure.  But, in cases of genuine depression, those statements do nothing and may even make things worse. I have no shame in saying that after my daughter was born I suffered from un-diagnosed post-partum depression and post-partum anxiety. From there I dealt with anxiety and panic attacks almost daily for nearly six months and then off and on for over 9 years.  I was on medication [which helped me tremendously!] for six months.  I will tell my story any time and anywhere with zero shame if it can help even ONE single person to not feel the stigma that can be attached to mental health issues! It was because of my own battles with post-partum depression that I knew pretty quickly that what I was currently experiencing wasn't just from grief or being "down in the dumps")

I was mad at everything. I was mad at friends who still have husbands for still having husbands. I was mad at people who were going on vacation for getting to go on vacation.  I was mad at people who were losing weight for losing weight.  I was mad at people with jobs for having careers.  I was mad at women who could do a perfect contour on their face.  I was mad at moms who were making healthy meals for their families. I was mad at people who seemed to have it all together and still had a couple of hours left in the day for themselves.  I mean if anything was going the least bit right in someone else's life - I was mad because of it.

The anger quickly gave way to bitterness which gave way to absolute despair.  I was at the point that I didn't even like myself anymore. 

I don't know when it started or why it started. My guess is that it was a grave that I was slowly digging - shovel by shovel - each day for who knows how long.  I just know that one day I felt like I was in the middle of a sinkhole filled with quicksand and no clue how I got there.  I was suffocating on the inside.  I felt so claustrophobic in my own thoughts. I spent most days in whatever clothes I had slept in the night before, not sure how many days passed between showers, and I cried - a lot - many times a day.  I didn't want to leave the house and some days even walking to the mailbox felt like a chore.   

I was pretty good at hiding it from most people. 

On the one hand I didn't want to let anyone down.  See - when people comment or act amazed at how I handle my chaotic life - internally it sets a standard that I feel the need to live up to.  I felt like if people knew that I was falling into this pit - then somehow I would appear as a failure in their eyes, and the last thing I want to do is to look like a failure to anyone. See, I have huge hopes of being able to play a part in transforming the lives of others.  If I myself am failing at transforming my own life then how could I possibly help anyone else?

Also, I didn't want to bother people with my issues. 

And, honestly, I didn't want to hear people advising me to "cheer up" or "it'll get better soon" or "I'll pray for you". 

I was engulfed in such hopelessness and I knew it was far greater than a simple "think about the good things you have in life" would help. 

It wasn't until I had been completely consumed by this depression for a few weeks that I reached out to my cousin, my sister, and my mom. Each have their own life experiences and I knew that I wouldn't get the old, run of the mill "chin up" talk from them.  I told them I knew I needed help.  I told them that I can only blame so much on hormones. And each one of them immediately encouraged me to seek help; go to my doctor and set up an appointment with a counselor. 

I didn't pray.  I didn't "cry out to God" to help me.  I just lived in the misery. 

I started keeping a hand-written journal about three weeks into it.  I wish I could offer some deep reason for keeping it, but I wanted to look for patterns and I also knew that should I see a counselor it would be beneficial to know what I was feeling day-to-day.  When I read those journal entries today, I can literally feel the hopelessness in my words.

4/30/17 "some days I feel like I really have a handle on things - those days are few and far between though.  For the most part I just really can't stand myself"

I remember one day being consumed with sadness that this was the life I was given.  See the thing is that to any other person, I have a great life!  Yes, my husband died and that sucks.  But, I'm healthy, I have four healthy children. I own my own home, live on a beautiful plot of land that is filled to the brim with gorgeous flowers and a breathtaking view.  I am able to provide for my little family.  I'm able to pay our bills every month and not wonder if this will be the month that I have to choose between electricity or water.  So there weren't really any big issues with my life that warranted me falling into this sadness.  Nothing!

Comparison is the thief of all joy and I can say with zero doubts that it literally robbed any and all joy that I had.  It was a double-edged sword because I would have these deep regrets of knowing that this was my life and the life that my children had to live.  I played the "what-if" game a lot! When I would allow myself to feel that regret then I would feel so guilty because I knew so many people have so much less than I do or have been forced to overcome so much more than I have.  So I'd feel mad at myself for allowing myself to feel so sullen about the life I have.  Wash, rinse, repeat. 

This was so much more than grief.  In fact I was pretty sure that this was actually not part of my grief journey at all.  This was a new beast in and of itself.

I feel like I met my grief head-on.  I knew enough to know that I needed to make sure I was addressing my grief and not pushing it down only for it to resurface later.  And I feel like I have and am succeeding in that. I have learned so many great coping skills for handling my grief.  But, I have failed in taking care of my relationship with God outside of my grief. And so when I started falling into depression it was confusing to me.  I wanted so badly to blame this depression on my grief from my husband's death because that would make sense; it would have been so much easier to rationalize - plus it wouldn't put the blame on me. 

But, it wasn't the grief - it was me!

I invited God into every part of my grief but I had stopped inviting Him into every other place in my life.  I was picking and choosing where God was allowed.  He was definitely okayed to come into the grieving part of my heart.  But, every other door was a no-go. 

God, no doubt, has held me so close in the past year and a half.  I have made no secret out of the fact that I know that it is God who has carried me through my grief. 

He isn't the one who moved away from me. He has always been so faithful to me and my little family. (when you get a second watch this short little video from Craig Groeshel of Life.Church - he pretty much hits the nail on the head!)

Let me be transparent for a second. 

I have not had a one-on-one, intimate relationship with the One who created me in years.  I have not regularly attended church in over four years (with the exception of Kyle's memorial service, and a visit or two to a church here in town while looking for a new church to attend). 

I've prayed from time to time - mainly in times of distress.  I don't remember the last time I had just sat and simply talked to God.  I had allowed myself to step away from God while at the same time being upset at all of the blessings in other people's lives.  I have missed it - I have missed Him. 

I knew I had to get back to God. I wasn't wanting to throw myself at God in hopes that He would heal me from this sinkhole I was in (yes, I know He's able - I also know that God puts doctors and counselors into the positions they're in for a reason as well!) - but I knew that God would be the best "right-hand Man" I could have while I journeyed through it.

So, one day I just decided to do it.

I started using what once was a journal about all of these dark emotions as a journal about my daily time with God.  Some are just short entries about what I'm doing that day along with anything meaningful that I get out of my time. They aren't pages and pages long.  I just wanted something so I could look back and be able to see how God's working. The transformation in the entries the past four weeks has been amazing to me and I can see with my own eyes how God is peeling back all of these dead layers of my heart and causing life to once again spring up! 

I almost feel like a "new Christian" and I guess in some ways I am. I'm having to re-learn how to have a relationship with God - not just praying when I'm desperate.  I had gotten so far away from Him that I had forgotten how to just talk to Him. 

I had no clue where to start with reading my Bible or even hearing God's voice. I remember when I was a kid I was determined I was going to read the Bible from cover to cover.  I started in Genesis.  And stopped reading somewhere in Numbers. Ha! That was not necessarily a plan I was going to try out this go 'round.

I pulled out all of my daily devotional books.

I have four total. 

One actually belonged to Kyle, so it feels right to have it in the mix.

They each have blurbs every day along with Bible verses.  Some days the blurbs speak straight to something that I've just prayed about (God speaking!), other days the Bible verses themselves speak, and some days the Bible verses lead me to cross-reference another verse that speaks to me.  But, every single day since I have started God has used one or the other to talk right to me. 

I've also committed to reading a chapter of Proverbs each day.  There was no huge earth-shattering philosophical revelation about doing this.  I had read on someone's twitter account one day that there are 31 chapters in Proverbs and that coincides with how many days are in some of the months and so I thought that seemed like a great place to start!

Some day I hope that this will lead into a deeper study - but for now it is helping me to get back into my walk with Him.

I have attempted (in the way-long-ago past) to dive into trying to set a "perfect" quiet time with God where there are no kids around and everything is still and quite literally...quiet.  I attempted to fit God in where I could and this strategy was never successful.  It would usually end with me getting frustrated because our schedule was off and I couldn't get the kids to turn their attention elsewhere so I'd just not do a "quiet time". 

But a few days into my trying to get back with God I had an epiphany!  My "quiet" time with God doesn't have to be quiet per say.  God isn't sitting around up in Heaven refusing to meet me on my deck until my kids are inside and not able to be heard. 

No.

Quiet time is me choosing to meet God as I am, where I am.

If my kids are at my feet and making random noises and playing with the birdseed on the deck - God is still there. Oftentimes my "quiet time" involves little feet walking or running back and forth on my deck.  They turn chairs upside down to make "playgrounds", and my toddler will call out the names of different birds that come to dine at the feeders. Some times the big kids will come sit with me for a few minutes.  A few times as I've been talking to God, my toddler will say "who you talkin' to mama?".  At first I felt a little embarrassed that he'd think his mother was talking to herself.  But then it hit me that this is an opportunity to teach my littles about God, about talking to God. 

I remember as a child seeing my mom pray or reading her Bible in the mornings before the day started.  Looking back now I realize what a precedent she set for me - seeing that she started her day inviting God in makes me want to be that same example for my kids!

"quiet" time

If there are 100 steps between me and God - He will always take the first 99 steps towards me.  It is up to me to take that last step to Him.  And for the past 4 weeks that's what I've been doing - and you know what?  I can already tell a difference in the way I view my daily life.  I can tell a BIG difference in my emotions.  I feel actual gratitude for this life that God has entrusted to me.  I feel actual happiness to see the blessings in the lives of those around me. I feel excitement about what lies ahead for me. I don't feel like an elephant is sitting on my chest 24 hours a day. I feel like that cloud of bitterness and depression has been lifted. As of right now I am in such a great place emotionally that I have felt peace about cancelling my appointments with the counselor and the doctor.  I know that should I ever need them - they'll be there.

Someone asked me last week how I was doing.  If you read this post you'll know that that hasn't been my favorite question over the past year and a half.  But, I've noticed in the past couple of weeks when someone asks, I haven't been saying my usual "I'm good" or "Oh, you know, as good as can be expected" in an effort to squash the conversation and not have to drudge up on I feel life is really going - but the words "I'm actually doing really great!" come out of my mouth.  And what's even better is that I mean it! (gasp!) I do not remember the last time that I was able to tell someone that I was great with all honesty. And I can not describe how that feels.

If you or someone you know is struggling with depression and/or suicidal thoughts - please do not hesitate to seek help. We can all help prevent suicide. If you’re thinking about suicide, are worried about a friend or loved one, or would like emotional support, the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline network is available 24/7 across the United States. 1-800-273-TALK (1-800-273-8255)

peace in the chaos

"I don't know how you do it!"

I've become accustomed to hearing this statement when someone first hears my story.  Typically I'll make some joke about how I didn't know I had a choice and then on a more serious level I'll tell people the truth which is it's not me - it's all God.  All God!

But in all honesty - it's not easy.  In the least.

  

The last thing I would want for anyone to assume about me is that I have it all together.  The truth is that I am far from having it together. 

As I'm sitting here at my kitchen table typing this I have dishes piled up in my sink, I'm two loads of laundry behind, my bed isn't made up, and I've spent the better part of this week checking in on a giraffe who I'm convinced will never have her calf. My tupperware is all over the floor mixed in with every pot and pan that I own (thanks to a very curious ten month old).  My hairstyle of choice these days is a ponytail; and on the rare occasion that I actually wear it down, my baby looks at me as if I'm a stranger! Same rule applies for make-up. Most days I have daydreams of staying up after the kids have gone to bed so I can take a nice hot bubble bath and catch up on the handful of TV shows I've DVR'd - but end up falling asleep sitting on the end of the toddler's bed and can barely drag myself to my own bed with my eyes half-closed only to wake seven broken-up hours later to start it all over again.  I don't go to church on a regular occasion.  I want to.  I have felt really convicted over this one lately.  But, I wasn't even able to finish a ladies Bible study recently because when I would take the two little's to the nursery, my three year old would cry until he puked.  So even being able to visit churches so I can find one to raise my children in feels like a burden.  

And, if I may be so transparent - just this past week while I was on the kitchen floor with towels cleaning the (what felt like) gallon of freshly spilled water off the floor (ironically before the spill I had opened our water bill to find that our useage had DOUBLED from the past 5 months we've been here), the baby was crying in his highchair, the toddler was whining because the Leap Pad batteries had died, and my eleven year old was rattling on about every last known fact about German Shepherds - I looked over and saw ants marching in a line under one of my kitchen cabinets.  

I let out a loud and defeated "goooooooood grief!" as the tears started. 

My eleven year old inquired about what was up and as I was stuttering (my newest trick when I get frustrated) trying to get through the irritating story I blurted out in the snarkiest tone I think I have ever produced "times like this it sure would be amazing to have my husband but apparently God felt like I was good to go with handling this all on my own and I sure as heck don't know what He was thinking!".

Have you ever watched A Christmas Story? When Ralphie uttered the mother of all curse words and then IMMEDIATELY had regret written all over his face?

That's how I felt. Immediately. Doh.

I quickly tried to do some kind of damage control.

But dang it.

I think that was probably months of little stresses here and there that built up and needed to get out.  

I have this image in my head of the mom I want to be.  But I just always imagined having a partner to do this with.  I never imagined being a single (especially widowed) mom with four kids.  It definitely was not in my plan.  

Being a parent is HARD you guys - even when I had a partner who was very hands-on, it was still hard.  And now I'm in it alone. And we haven't even entered the dreaded puberty-laced dating years yet...

I feel like I am so spread thin.  

Most days I don't sit and concentrate on that fact.  In fact, I feel like I've done a decent job of, as I say, "embracing the chaos". Because, honestly...this is my chaos.  Trying to fight against it will do me no good. Kind of like quicksand; if you fight it you sink faster. I can try to cut down on it by keeping up with the basic day-to-day stuff such as making sure my bed is made, the sink is empty before bed at night, doing at least one load of laundry a day, trying to meal plan, etc.  But for the most part, my life is going to be chaotic for some time to come.  And if I let the fact that I'm in this chaos without a partner fester in me I find that I can start to feel depressed and really let down by God.  I know He has a plan.  I know He knows what's ahead.  But mercy can the here and now start to feel overwhelming.

So instead I try to make the most out of it.  

Yes, our life is hectic!! And we don't even have extra-curricular activities added in.  We have as of yet un-diagnosed medical conditions, potty training, preteen hormones (which leads to pre-teen attitudes), teething, not sleeping through the night, along with dentist, eye, ENT, and regular doctor appointments.  And I haven't even begun the job search yet.

Jesus take the wheel indeed!

Please know that if you feel overwhelmed, if you feel like life is throwing one thing after another at you and you don't know why, if you feel like you've been running a marathon and haven't gotten a chance to take a breath yet - you are not alone!  

You. Are. NOT. Alone!!! And if you feel alone - contact me.  You can vent and get it all out.  But you are not alone.

One thing that I have learned in this journey is that God has a plan in EVERYthing!  I've already been contacted by a few old friends asking if they can share my blog with widows who are new to the journey.  I've been asked for advice about what a ministry can do for a new widow. God has also been putting a couple ministry ideas on my heart to explore as well.

These are huge to me.  HUGE.  This is God using my journey.


And this is why I feel that there is a peace in my chaos.  

God HAS given me this journey for a reason.  I am really not a fan of the saying "God gave you this life because you're strong enough to live it".  No.  I'm not. But God can use the life He's given me and make me stronger through it. 

I am unsure if God will ever bless me with another partner in life. I always felt like I was created to be a wife and a mother.  But one thing I do know is that God has called me to find contentment where He has me right now.  

So when someone says to me "I don't know how you do it", well, I do it because God has trusted all of this to me. I want to make Him proud and be able to give Him glory in how I choose to navigate it. 

Without God - I really don't think that I COULD do it.  

surprise!

Often when I come here to write, I'll glance back over the last post I had written just to see what's happened since then; have I grown any? Any new lessons learned?  Any major life events?

It feels like it's been forever since I last wrote - and then I see it's only been a little over a month and a half and I try to think about everything that has gone on since then.  

I feel like I say "life is hectic" a lot.  I guess I do say it a lot.  Maybe it feels like I say it with the unspoken desire that it's going to calm down soon.  You know, like when you leave a sentence hanging with a "but....".  Life is hectic, but.....

Yeah.  There is no "but".  Life is hectic. Period. Or exclamation point! And really, I need to just settle to the fact that it's going to be hectic like this for a very long time. Embrace the hectic - or something like that. 

But sometimes things happen and I make mental notes to jot it down or to write about it so that it's a memory that we can hold on to - something that when the kids are older they can read about as they grow to learn about their dad.  

Over the past month two such things happened. I took photos with my phone to document and to remind me to blog about them.  Then my three year old decided to send my phone swimming in the toilet and I lost the photos.  Insert forehead slap here.  So, I'm taking time to sit and write this out before hectic happens some more and I forget it. 

Back in May 2011, Kyle, myself, and two of our closest friends had taken an adults-only trip to Kansas City.  I am a big royal family nut and they had a traveling Princess Diana exhibit that I just had to go see.  We had such a fun time.  We spent a couple of days there.  We went to Union Station, ate at a fancy-pants restaurant, saw the exhibit (where Kyle snuck a cell phone photo of Princess Diana's wedding dress for me), and just had a nice little vacation.

On our way home we had noticed that there were storms in the distance.  Then we started seeing bits and pieces of stuff falling from the sky.  At first we thought maybe they were leaves - but then quickly realized they were pieces of insulation from houses or buildings.  I didn't grow up on Oklahoma so I was oblivious.  But, when I saw that Kyle was concerned about it - I grew concerned.  Kyle loved tornadic weather.  He didn't like the idea of death and destruction - but he got a kick out of following the storms on radar and guessing their paths. I always chuckled when bad weather would start developing anywhere in Oklahoma.  I knew I could go to our office and find him with two computer screens and his phone all set on various radars and live weather feeds.  I knew I never had to worry about being surprised by a storm - he had all the angles covered!

Anyway, when we started seeing debris falling from the sky, Kyle pulled over on the side of the road to check weather apps and he also got a call from his mom about a tornado warning near us.  We were, maybe, 10-15 miles north of Joplin, Missouri at the time.  We made a group decision to head back up north to steer clear of the storm. Unbeknownst to us, the storm that we had avoided was the big 2011 Joplin tornado.  That was a memory that I will have with me forever - realizing what we were driving straight towards and the way that God saved us from what could have been otherwise catastrophic.

Kyle and I were married nearly one year to the day later.  Not long after we were married he decided we needed to work on assembling a tornado kit of sorts; just something that we could easily load in the van should a tornadic storm be headed for us that could sustain us for 24-48 hours.  And, let's also be real here - we had been watching the Walking Dead and you can't say that if you've ever watched that show that the thought of a zombie apocalypse hasn't crossed your mind at least a time or two.  We filled this giant tub with dried foods, baby needs, electronic devices, panchos, medicines, etc.

About five weeks ago I was going through tubs in the garage in an effort to free up some space and I ran across this tub of supplies.  I opened it up and I couldn't help but smile.  It's as if Kyle had prepared a housewarming AND baby-welcoming gift for me - full of things that I needed, but didn't actually have in the house. There were two HUGE economy packs of batteries (name brand - because who has time for off brand?) that still work.  There were also flashlights, a weather radio, writing tablets (he knew my love of office supplies!), water filters, a giant tarp, bungee cords, rope, and tape.  He also sent a huge pack of baby wipes, baby spoons, and bibs. These were originally for our now-toddler - but I'm guessing Kyle had no clue he was actually buying them for a son he would never meet.  And just for giggles - about 5 packs of dried fruits.  Our home sits on a half-acre lot that backs up to woods.  We have deer out this way that I love.  I put the dried fruits out as a treat for our deer.  

Here we are - over a year out from last seeing him - and God has still found ways to gift us with little touches here and there from him.

A few weeks ago I had signed up to join a women's Bible study.  I had come home after our first session and knew I needed to hunt down my Bible.  I have about five of them. It seems like each new season in my life I decide to buy a new Bible - but I always keep the old ones. I wanted to find the last Bible I had purchased.  It was a Bible that I bought before Kyle and I were married.  He and I had found a church in Oklahoma that we loved and wanted to be involved in so we decided to go buy new Bible's together to mark the occasion.  I found it downstairs in a box in the office.  When I was thumbing through it a note card fell out, a note card I had completely forgotten about.  Based on dates on the cards I'm assuming I wrote it in late 2012, early 2013.  It was a "vision list" of sorts on one side and the other side contained my prayer list.  

It wasn't long.  

On the vision list side I had written about wanting a reliable vehicle with low miles that would fit our family needs.  Next to it the words "done 2013".  I had been involved in a no-fault car accident when our now-toddler was just three weeks old.  This resulted in our van being totaled - and us being blessed with the ability to purchase a newer model.  God had used a tragedy to bring us blessings.

Then my eyes glanced at the other side of the vision list.  It was about specifics for a home for us.  

I actually gasped out loud when I saw the list.  

You see, back then we were living in an 1100 square foot home with a small fenced in back yard.  It was a rental home.  With a family our size - with plans to have more children we had hopes of one day owning our own home - so I decided to dream big about it. I remember thinking that this home I had envisioned would be way off in the future. But when I read each of the specifications that I wrote on this list some five years ago, I realized that I was describing perfectly the home that God allowed me to purchase here in September of last year: 

-greater than 2500 square feet (this one is 2600), 
-at least 3 bedroom/2 bathroom (this one is 4 bedroom/3 bath), 
-huge fenced in backyard (we have a 1/2 acre lot - half of which is fenced), 
-and a big kitchen (my kitchen now is ideal for me).  

A huge smile washed over my face. I marveled at how God had taken this "wish list" of mine and brought me to it.  

Again - he has used a tragedy of epic proportions and has brought blessings out of it.

Then I flipped the card over to the "prayer list" side.

The first item on the list "complete family restoration" - with the words "done 2014" written next to it.  You see, in 2012 (when I wrote this list) my family wasn't whole, and hadn't been for a few years.  All I had known growing up was this impenetrable, tight-knit family.  Stuff happened.  And there was a falling out of sorts.  We went for years without some of us even talking to each other.  I didn't think we'd ever be whole again.  But God caused such restoration to happen in our family in 2014. And our family has never been the same - we are, I feel, stronger than we have ever been.

The last item on the card literally took my breath away and gave me goosebumps.  

There it was - in my own handwriting:  

"Kyle's complete healing"

I stopped in my tracks and sobbed. Sobbed! I sat on the ground where I was and just held this card in my hands and let the tears flow. There were tears for all different reasons; joy, sadness, anger, thankfulness...

In 2012 Kyle had been plagued with headaches.  They eventually went 6 months before a diagnosis (and fix) was made.  So, I'm sure that's why I wrote this on there.  But at the same time - my brain and heart were so split on emotions.  

I immediately felt gratitude.  Kyle WAS completely healed.  COMPLETELY!  What an amazing thing to witness. And to see the words, in my own handwriting, knowing that when I wrote them - this outcome was NOT what I was expecting or praying for.  Yet at the same time - his healing was all I ever wanted.

Then I felt the "why's" coming.  Why God could you not have healed him HERE?  Why did his complete healing have to mean him being gone from this earth?

Then I circled back around to joy.  

Kyle is healed!  He has complete healing from any and every ailment he had ever had or would have had. He has been made completely brand new.  Wow!

God doesn't always answer prayers the way that we think that He should - but when I looked at this note card I realized that God answered every single prayer and completed every single vision I had on there. 

How incredible it is to be so loved by the creator of this universe that He has seen fit to bless me the way that He has.