Defenseless

"Other refuge I have none,
hangs my helpless soul on thee;
leave, ah! Leave me not alone,
still support and comfort me.
All my trust on thee is stayed,
all my help from thee I bring,
cover my defenseless head
with the shadow of thy wing."
Jesus, Lover of My Soul

Defenseless, that is the new feeling we four girls are experiencing. We didn't realize how safe and protected we felt when Ron was alive. How we took for granted the peace we felt when we laid our heads down every night. We never even locked our doors, just knowing that he slept beside me was comfort enough. All we took for granted, how strange that now we are so vulnerable. I lock and check the doors every night and the girls follow me around to make sure I didn't miss anything. The dog is brought in and we lay down to pray, but that feeling of abandon peace is gone. We trust Him now, but as Abigail comments we can't see Him, and sometimes He doesn't seem to be there. How do you teach young children to trust His presence when you feel defenseless in the midst of the storm? I have had to go back to basics and read the Word. The things I know to be true, what I have heard in church and Sunday school, I need to hear again and again. We are reading together the Psalms before we pray. We are learning to exercise faith, to trust and believe even when we fail to see and feel protected. How can a God who loves us so much take away so much from us, and there is where we go back to basics. We deserve nothing and that we had so much is a blessing. We unworthy, unclean ones, whom He gave so much to save that we might become His, so that we can lay our heads and know that He does truly cover our heads with the shadow of His wing.

Ramblings

Today I found a quote by Eleanor Roosevelt that caught my attention, "Women are like tea bags, they don't know how strong they are until they get in hot water." I had to laugh because it's so true of us. We think we are capable of a lot less and when hardship hits we are surprised by how much we can endure. I once thought that loosing a child was the greatest hardship, oh how little did I know then about pain and the human spirit. I keep surprising myself every morning when I rise that I have made it thru another day and night, and time rolls forward like an endless carpet before me. Today has been long and the night is just beginning. Why are some days longer than others when all have equal amount of hours? It must be my moods, they are affected by the weather or the moon I don't know which. Some days I miss my old life more and other days I dive into the new life with anticipation. The old and the new, they don't mix, like oil and water. I am often torn between time and space, perhaps that is why Lots wife turned into a pillar of salt, she looked with longing at what was and was unsure at what was soon to come. I wonder if I am not too careful I too will turn into a pillar of salt. What use will I be then to my young ones.

I realize that deciding to move forward is not enough. I know it's a choice but even when I have chosen right the way seems so wrong and my heart fights my mind and it always ends up hurting. I choose God's path, my feet move forward in the direction He has for me but there is pain in every step and like a child I need someone to hold my hand so I can move with a bit more courage. Sometimes even He doesn't seem to be enough.

A Visit

It seems like my body is stuck like a broken record that won't move past a certain line of music, to wake at the same time of the early morning every day. My eyes open and I look at the clock across the couch, I have taken to sleeping in the family room, less heavy breathing there, and I can already guess the time, 2:30 am. I want to be unstuck! Go back to sleep and wake up at a normal hour like maybe five...but here I am tired of fighting my body because it doesn't listen so I give in to it like a mother given into the tantrums of a two year old.

Yesterday Carmel and I visited Amaris and sat at a coffee house for hours on a big L shape couch talking. We picked her up at the school gym after crew practice and surprised her with spring rolls and chocolate. So we had tea and ate dark chocolate covered pretzels and graham crackers and laughed and cried together as if we were alone instead of in a crowded coffee house. Our voices rose and fell like the tide on a full moon. We talked about everything, about school, boys and men and even sex, marriage, theirs and mine, past and present and even contemplated the future. It is easy to think of the future when you are at the verge of yours, but I feel like mine is at impasse, awaiting an unpredictable turn. Then we talked about love and the words of Longfellow came to mind..."First love or last love, which of these two passions is more omnipotent? Which is more fair? The star of morning, or the evening star? The sunrise or the sunset of the heart? The hour when we look forth to the unknown and the advancing day consumes the shadows--or that when all the landscape of our lives lies stretched behind us, and familiar places gleam in the distance, and sweet memories..." Their words about love were fresh and inexperienced, full of life and expectations, and mine were filled with memories, rich and heavy, scented with His grace, molded by gentle touch. I caught their attention and they listened well, and we cried not just for me and dad but for love.

I must try again and quiet this tantrum of my mind and seek some rest.

Empty Spaces

Books inspire me. They fill me with anticipation and excitement, they comfort me and make me less lonely, less lost, less sad. Not just their content by their smell and feel. There is a world of possibilities in a very small book store that reaches beyond simple geography. I sit in the children's section at Borders surrounded by books and toys. The voices of mothers reading to their little ones in the background and children asking questions fill this space and I quietly sit unnoticed like the invisible woman in a congested subway station and I like it.

I have left home and the girls behind. They are spending the weekend with friends, escaping life and sadness to feed a miniature horse and play with kittens and dogs. I know they will love this even my older one who wasn't so sure when I left them. We are slowly moving away from our old life to the new. When we come home on Sunday he will not be there. All his things have been put away and the house is ours now to fill with our lives. It will take some adjusting but these pains will move us forward. We have chosen life and this is the first step towards that glorious life He has planned for us. This is the road less traveled. Not many have walked this way, it feels like the night before going on a trip to unfamiliar places, a mixed of excitement and fear.

I spent the night in Atlanta at a friend's loft. She was a bit under the weather and I got to hang out with her husband. I thought it would be awkward, after all I haven't been around another man since Ron died. But it was fun and relaxing. We walked to a Persian restaurant had wine with a good meal and talked. I felt like an adult for the first time...drinking without my husband. In the morning we ran eight miles at a comfortable pace talking the whole time. I didn't know how much I had to say about other things beside death. It made me realize that I don't want to be defined by what I've lost but by what I've gained in the process.

This was also the first time I slept alone since Ron died. The girls have been sleeping with me and will probably continue to do so until they feel life is a bit safer, a bit more secure. I bet the last two nights they clung to each other for comfort. They hold on to what they love lest they lose it forever like their sister and their dad. Last night the bed was mine and I didn't feel alone for the first time. Even at home with a little one on each side I feel lonely and cold in bed. Last night I was warm and slept deeply (it could have been the wine!) I awaken rested and ready to run.

Later I had breakfast with my son and as I listened I realize how much I need to get to know him better. Jonathan is a young man filled with passion for God. I got a glimpse of this this morning, saw it in his eyes, heard it in his voice. Ron knew this and encourage and nurtured this passion in our son. It is God's gift to want to glorify Him so completely. So I sat and listened and shared what was going on in my heart during this season. When we parted we understood each other better and loved each other more. As he left he looked into my eyes and told me something I had not heard another man say to me in the last three months, "Mom, you're beautiful." This brought tears to my eyes and satisfied my heart in an unexpected way. God is slowly filling the empty spaces of my heart just as we will fill the empty spaces in our home.

Saying Goodbye

"The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the afflicted; He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to captives.....To comfort all who mourn, to grant those who mourn in Zion, giving them a garland instead of ashes. The oil of gladness instead of mourning. The mantle of praise instead of a spirit of fainting. So they will be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that He may be glorified." Isaiah 61:1-3

Yesterday I said goodbye to yet another integral part of my life. I have said goodbye to my three and a half year old daughter, to her little clothes and toys and security toy, a little terry cloth monkey...those things will not be folded in the wash or picked up from the floor or frantically looked for before bed....they were given away or tucked away in the attic where one day when my hands are wrinkle and my hair white and my heart ready they will be brought out and I will lovingly hold ready to say goodbye one last time before I see her...Yesterday we put away and gave away Ron's things. He has moved and I said goodbye to all the little things that made him Ron. Something were easy to pull out and fold and give away, suits and ties, work shoes and briefcase...though he worked for IBM and had to wear a suit and tie he never felt comfortable in one. I know he would have been relieved to have gotten rid of that. In fact he was so laid back that I remember one work review where the only negative comment about his performance was that he was too casual. We even buried him in his favorite pair of jeans, Life if Good teeshirt and his worn pair of birkenstocks. Now I don't know if you're suppose to bury people with shoes, but I did Ron, simply because he was always walking around in those and though he had several newer pairs in the closet, those were molded to his feet so good that it was the only thing he wore after a long run when his feet were sore. He crossed the finish line at the Jacksonville Half Marathon so naturally his feet would be in those. The rest of his things, the ones I saw him most in, hiking shirts, cycling clothes, all the race shirts we had accumulated running together, were like tucking in memories for later, a fast forward movie going in my head of all the finish lines crossed, the mountains climbed and the roads traveled. My hands caressed his favorite shirt the one that said "Not all those who wander are lost" and was put away for that one day when my hands are wrinkle, my hair is white and my heart is ready to see him again. I am not lost, just wandering thru this grief and moving forward to life.....

I thought it would be harder. In fact many thought it was too soon. Too soon for what? We all grieve differently and there is no wrong way to handle the pain. I am doing what must be done so that the girls and I can more forward to life. Walking around this house as if he still lives here doesn't help. He has moved away to better home, a mansion in the presence of Christ. He lacks nothing of this earth, and all these things do is prolong the process that will move us forward.

I have to cling to His promises. He will comfort us in this season, even in my darkest hour when the house is quiet and my heart feels empty like the shelfs in the closet. We will soon exchange our ashed for His garland, for His oil of gladness and His mantle of praise so we can grow into oaks of righteousness for His glory.