heavy-hearted and hopeful

Sometimes life comes at you in ways you don't expect and leaves you with multiple layers of emotion to process. This week has been one of those as the title of this post indicates. The last two days have been heavy-hearted in many senses as we lost a member of our extended family unexpectedly at the young age of 43. I don't think loss is EVER easy but it grief always feels deeper to me when it is mixed with elements of shock and tragedy.

Combine that with our plan to show the house today, about which I am hopeful, and you have a concoction of mixed emotion. All I can say is that I am thankful for Ryan's steadiness, a family that is coming together, God's word and deep breaths. And for timing, I can't forget to mention that thought because if all of this would have happened a year ago with the house, the joyful arrival of this little baby and life mixed in, I think it would have been a whole lot harder.

I have also been thinking a bit and have been asked by a few close friends about how I am feeling about potentially leaving this house that I love very soon. Maybe it will hit me harder than it has when the time actually comes and there are more sleepless nights mixed in but for now, I truly just know I have to take this one day at a time. I think the words that come to mind are "exchanges" and "better things". Let me explain. I am learning that it means more than a house could to have unity in our marriage with what we know God is doing. That the exchange of living here in order to live closer to the place that Ryan will spend 8-10 hours a day so we can have him around more is a worthy one.

I do LOVE this house, what it means to us, how it expresses us but somehow even having Christy take pictures here last week made me feel like it will be preserved in my mind and heart, that the season spent here will always be special to me. I can also say that continuing to read through the Old Testament (slowly but surely) has been a really big reminder to me of God's faithfulness towards His people then and now. Holding on to that today as this is the view outside my window:

return to writing

I missed typing out my words this week. They found themselves weaved this week into conversations with so many good friends and journals and the pages of my Bible and some only ran through my mind. Choosing to not detail out online the things that are taking place in the life of my family, I will simply give the context that things are not right and there is much grieving, processing, and loving taking place.

Grief continues to be a funny thing in life that feels somewhat thematic of the past year and not something that I ever anticipated writing about or thinking about this often. A friend posted an article recently by Dan Allender (author and professor @ Mars Hill Graduate School) , entitled the Hidden Hope in Lament. It talks about how lament, both private and public are an appropriate expression in our relationship with God and how many times the Psalmist uses their own words to give us a model on how to do so. I also loved this acknowledgement in the article (read the rest of it here):

Christians seldom sing in the minor key. We fear the somber; we seem to hold sorrow in low-esteem. We seem predisposed to fear lament as a quick slide into doubt and despair; failing to see that doubt and despair are the dark soil that is necessary to grow confidence and joy.

I think that is so true, that we fear sackcloth and ashes and tell one another to pray about it. And I firmly believe in and have felt the prayers of the saints both in the past 7 days Yet, I also feel there is outward and physical response to grief that is part of the road to healing. As I continue to learn what that looks like, I am taking notes, literally. I want to see God's hand in the process and affirm that faithfulness. I also want to remember what things made sense to me so when others are in this place, I have a resource. Here are some of the things that have ministered to me this week (insert overwhelming thankfulness for all of my dear friends here):

If you have the inclination to pick up the phone or send an email, do it. This is something I always hesitate on doing but so appreciate them on the recieving end.

Send scripture in ways that can be carried (on cards, notecards, crafts).

Do normal things. Coffee. Magazines. It may seem trivial but normalcy is a gift.

Make meals.

Cry.

Understand the desire to engage but the inability at moments to engage as well.

Send packages.

Show up.

Gas gift cards.

PRAYER. on the phone. in coffee shops. in cars.

All of that said, I am fighting to see God's faithfulness because I believe it is that important and really looking forward to the wedding of a friend tonight who is getting remarried after 4 hard years. I will be DANCING it up downtown @ the reception and enjoying the celebration. Also will be rockin this dress (CLEARANCE!) & my new little headband with the silver flower...

grief is like a tsunami

tsunami (noun):
a series of water waves that is caused by the displacement of a large volume of a body of water, such as an ocean.

I have heard the phrase "grief is like an ocean" before and I think it is true but even more, I believe that grief is like a tsunami. Let me explain. I was at church recently, simply making a trip to the drinking fountain and passed through the courtyard where the remnants of the luncheon following a funeral were still set up. There they were, bouquets upon bouquets of flowers sent for the family, pictures of a loving mom and friend, notes and tissues and programs and punch. It was all there.

And I was still sad. Not just sad again, but another wave of sadness rushed over me about this and this and this wave of grief in the past year.

I think the initial pain of grief is like a tsunami, a wave of catastrophic proportions that rushes in without warning, ripping roots and creating confusion. And after the water receeds you are left with clean up and learning a new normal and from time to time, there is a ripple effect, little waves lapping in pools around your feet or sweeping you up. But it is not without hope.

1 Thessalonians 4:13-14 (ESV)
Brothers, we do not want you to be ignorant about those who fall asleep, or to grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope. We believe that Jesus died and rose again and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him.

community

I'm thankful tonight (thanks Amber for the reminder). I am not feeling well again and I was not able to be at the visitation for Ryan's grandpa but so many others were. Friends who came out of the wood work, family members who dropped what they had going, people who surprised us and people who we just knew would be there. So that feels like an extension of the body and is keeping me from feeling bad for myself tonight.

Philippians 1:3
I thank my God every time I remember you.

blessed assurance

We recieved the news this morning that Ryan's grandpa is no longer suffering but is face to face with his Jesus. I am so thankful I went to see him Friday night and tell him how thankful I am for the role that he played in my husband's life. How Ryan couldn't have made it through those dark times without him, how his Godly example of love and care for Grandma inspires our marriage, how I love that I got to know him while Ryan and I were dating. He always called me the "girl who loved trees" because he claimed that I could go into a forest and make friends with even the trees. Half of him expected him to call me that Friday night, even though he was no longer able to speak much.

The lyrics to "Blessed Assurance" are running through my mind as I think about the amazing transformation Grandpa's earthly body recieved as he entered the presence of his Lord. No more pain, no more suffering, just lost in His love. I will never understand the ugliness of Alzheimer's and why it is part of so many families' journey here on earth. So this morning I stand in the blessed assurance that life here is just so short and temporary and there is something so much better waiting for us.

it's friday!

and I'm up early! so here are a few things to celebrate and one to pray for:
-we got our family pictures taken on Sunday and I have my proofs already! (note above). Why didn't we do this sooner? I can now replace the pictures that have been in frames for 2 years.
-my dog seems to know it is cold sometimes in this old house and has decided that cuddling at my feet is the perfect place to be, I agree.
-headed tomorrow with Ry and some other youth group leaders to the Lead Now conference for the day on the East side to see Donald Miller, Francis Chan, Matt Chandler on the big screen as a church there is doing a simulcast of this conference:

Did I ever menion how much I love conferences? Truly love them. The organization of them, the coffee breaks, the sessions, taking notes. I'm there.

I also have a prayer request to share as we navigate the next few weeks. Ryan's grandpa who was the best man in our wedding has since been struggling with Alzheimers and things are moving quicker than we thought they would in the last few weeks. If i can boldly ask you to pray for peace in this situation for our family, that would be much appreciated. I am honored that I got a chance to know Grandpa so well while we were dating and know that he has served such a full life ministering to his family and others around him.

beauty through tragedy

I heard part of this family's story yesterday on the radio and was so touched by their testimony of faith through tragedy that I had to share it with you. Jake and Rebecca Mutz were a young married couple whose daughter was born with unexpected complications and after 7 days in their arms, went to be with Jesus.
I contemplated posting this because I want to protect the minds and the hearts of my dear friends who are young moms and moms-to-be. I don't know how it will hit your heart and my prayer is that if you do feel led to listen to it, that what you sense through their story is not the fear and loss they experienced but their joy in His goodness in their lives.

It is a 5 part interview that you can listen to here as well as get more information about the book that this family has authored. They read the introduction to the book and it was so beautiful that I wanted to share those words.

When I hear Handel, Beethoven, or Bach, I think how profoundly moving music can be. I feel my soul lifted, called to something higher, something nobler, something more perfect than this fallen world has to offer. It invades my mundane, ordinary existence and as I listen I feel transported—as if the music has escaped from another realm.
A grand and glorious symphony has been written, and for seven dark but beautiful days I heard the strains of its melody. The musical score came from Heaven with the debut of a tiny, helpless baby. Her song was complex, yet perfectly written.
Frail as she was, this little one took center stage and, without uttering a sound, stirred the passions of the thousands who listened.
Elegant music has a lingering effect. And so did the hymn of this tiny life. She touched me and I am left with the divinely beautiful memory, changed forever by having heard a few measures of His symphony in her brief but mighty life.
Be still and listen. May you, too, feel the wonder of this great mystery, that one so small could lead so many to hear the Everlasting Song.
As taken from the book "A symphony in the dark".

Since losing Kaden, my heart and mind have found a more comfortable place in grief than I ever knew possible. I know that I like to avoid pain and feeling uncomfortable, useless to fix anything, and broken myself. But I also know, and was reminded after listening to this story that Psalm 30:11 was never more true.

You have turned for me my mourning into dancing; You have loosed my sackcloth and girded me with gladness.

pacing myself

it was the day, the day I have been training for since January. And somehow, even though I was excited this morning, my emotions and heart burned in my chest with the sorrow and the grief of losing Kaden, yet the joy of God's goodness through this week to Rochelle and Steve. Their faith and hope are so strong and I am encouraged by how closely they are walking with God.

I usually spend so much mental energy the week before a big race thinking about my pacing, my hydration, what I will eat to prepare, what I will wear. And rightfully so, those things became minor details pushed to the outer corners of my brain space this week. But I woke up with a determination to go out there today and do this. Something I have literally wanted to do since I saw a fellow classmate do it when we were 15 years old. Some of the miles got really hard, if I am honest, every mile after 9 was tough today. It was actually quite humorous in retrospect because I really had myself convinced at one point that I should just lay down for a few minutes on the side of the road. what?!

Thankfully Ben & Stacie were there with me to shake that fog out of my brain and tell me to eat a GU and keep going. We finished in the time we hoped and there was a lot of space on the course to talk, cheer, pray, and just plain put one foot in front of another. Here is team EGM, looking our best before the race this morning:


I just got an email from our captain, Pastor Tom & it made me laugh because in the speed category we got 2nd place for the team category! Good thing they only take the top 5 scores...none of which my time was close to touching. but just for kicks, you can check it out here.

overwhelmed by the body

I can't put into words right now the overflow of emotions cramming their way into my heart on a daily basis. There is so much beauty and so much pain, all vying for such a small space. My heart is stretching and growing from the love I feel for Kaden, to the unity that is taking place within our family, to the tears that flow and the outpouring of love in response.
The thing that is blowing me out of the water is the response for Rochelle & Steve from our church family and their friends. You know, even the night that they lost Kaden, Rochelle was already praising God for the family that they are surrounded by beyond those related, our church. It has been incredible the amount of phone calls, cards, emails, facebook messages, meals, that have already been brought. The hearts of friends are being turned so openly towards them and for that I am beyond thankful.

prayers for Kaden

heavy hands and a heavy heart. we lost our nephew, Kaden James tonight unexpectedly at 30 weeks; I have no words but there are prayers.

Jeremy Camp, "Walk by Faith"

Will I believe you when you say
Your hand will guide my every way
Will I receive the words You say
Every moment of every day

Well I will walk by faith
Even when I cannot see
because this broken road
Prepares Your will for me

Help me to RID my endless fears
You've been so faithful for all my years
With the one breath You make me new
Your grace covers all I do

Well I'm broken- but I still see Your face
Well You've spoken- pouring Your words of grace

Well I will walk by faith
Even when I cannot see

what stands

life feels really full right now emotionally. If my emotions were a balloon, filling a little each time I felt, this week I would feel like I may burst. air in. air out. so much joy and sorrow crammed into a few short weeks of processing or maybe even just days. Although something wonderful happens with joyful news or events; they allow us to breathe out a little, letting some go of some of the pressure.

Within the past 36 hours, Ryan's grandpa was moved to a long term care facility, the I was astonished at how old and tiny my grandma looked after her knee surgery, and I witnessed the grief that came with the loss of the mom of my dear friend. Air into the balloon. I have also witnessed the joy of this same family as they celebrated the fact that this woman they love is now walking so closely with her Lord. And the exciting news this morning that a close friend who went through a deeply painful divorce 5 years ago is now engaged to wonderful guy who loves her and her girls. it feels redemptive of her journey. air out of the balloon.

Through it all, I have been drawn back to the words in Isaiah 40:
The grass withers and the flowers fall,
but the word of our God stands forever."

when there are no words

there is worship. It has been a pretty impactful weekend from a call Friday night from a dear friend who lost her mom unexpectedly to the reality of Ryan's grandfather moving into a home for long term care. I know I don't have the words and I am learning to stop trying to find them. Amidst it all, worship seems to bring some needed perspective.

processing life

I'm tired. And this is my own doing of course because every night I stay up too late and every morning I get up too early. Even as I write it is after midnight and my running friend is going to be waiting on my steps at 6 sharp. I need to turn my internal dial back a few hours so that it works out just right but I can't stay away from late nights!! And then, there I am in the morning groggily reaching for the coffee grinder and hating how that feels to NEED it rather than choose the coffee.
Lately I have been thinking alot about growing old. And how tiring that must be every day to get up, feel achy getting out of bed, to not be able to just go out for a morning jog and guzzle a cup of coffee while simaltaneously drying your hair & eating breakfast. It has come up alot between Ryan and I in life conversations lately as we see others around us growing old. and growing older by the moment.
To clarify, I am not referring to the moments of adulthood when our dinner conversations turn to property tax and the market and I feel OLD. I am speaking of the grandfather who has been more like a parent with Alzheimers, the ever optomistic grandmother with a broken ankle who is struggling with deep sadness, the great aunt who hasn't been out of her house for 2 weeks straight and is used to gardening everyday. These are all realities for our close relatives right now and Ryan and I are at moments facing our grief head on and in other moments living in denial and fear.
I am not as terrfied of loss as I used to be but still fearful of what this future loss will feel like. We have found ourselves talking about it this week after watching the movie "The Savages" this past Saturday. It is the story of two adult children who grew up taking care of themselves due to an absent mother and an alcoholic father. Their father becomes very sick late in life and they are forced to decide what kind of care is best for him. It made very real the turmoil of making decisions about others lives and well-being, which led us to be real about the potential decisions facing our own parents.
Our conclusion, which presented itself unknowingly 5 days later over the course of a date night tonight was to ENJOY EVERY MINUTE with the people you love. Make the effort to make a phone call, to visit, to write a card, to have a conversation, whatever it is, don't hold anything back.
I think that applies to so many of my relationships and how I approach my life. I don't want to hold anything back, have any regrets, wish I would have called. I want to know I have loved those in my life as fully as I possibly could.