2010 - A Year Never Forgotten

Dear Abba Father,

2010 was a very difficult year. I was having many physical ailments, the sudden loss of Aaron, kidney stones, back surgery, increase in depression, tremors and so on.

2010 brought in some good stuff. Reconnecting with my cousin, Melissa. Regular time with Marie. Paula showing up for Aaron's funeral. No more kidney stones (yet). Back surgery was successful. Medication was adjusted. Migraines successfully treated with new drug. The start of weight loss with a goal of 140. More time with Joe and Jon. Our family supporting each other. Compassion for Dale and Tina. Same for Shawnda. Talking to Aaron about Heaven 12 days before his death. Assurance from God Aaron is with Him. Sad news Uncle Eddie died. So did cousin Billy, Aunt Pat and Smudge. Surrounded by death. No wonder I feel disconnected.

2010 was financially blessed. Thank you for Matt, Jo, Soni and Tom, Pam and my family. Thank you for Mark and his small group of merry men.

2010 defined real friendships. Thank you for Jo, Laurie, Marie and Pam. Thank you for my small group, my church and Bonnie and Annie/Donald.

2010 was the first season of football (Ryan), helping Hope through grief, learning Alicia's clinging meant she needed to feel safe after Aaron died, Samantha coming into her own uniqueness and talents, listening to Joe as he expresses himself on Facebook, seeing Joe and Jon change by becoming more responsible, less stressed and working on becoming men of integrity. I pray I have an opportunity to share with them the talk I had with Aaron.

2010 is a year I'd like to forget. Honestly. Between integrating my split self with the help of Jeff and growing in intimacy with Carol, I know You are my all in all. You, Father, held my hand, expanded my heart, moved my feet and guided my words.

To You be all glory and praise, forever and ever. Amen.

Love Amy Kathleen

Aaron's first Christmas

Dear Aaron, we had our traditional Christmas at Meagan and Daryl's this year. We seemed to be doing okay until Santa and Mrs. Claus arrived. Just having them there felt wonderful and warm. But for most of the adults it was a reminder that you wouldn't be sitting on Santa's lap (or he on yours!). For me, I started crying after we took our family picture. I knew in my head we'd be less one person this year but it wasn't until the camera's clicked, that reality clicked that you wouldn't be in it. I wish I could have a new picture of you but there aren't any. There won't be any. My prayer for our family is that we know you are with God, who loves you more than anyone on this earth ever could. This first Christmas without you is very sad.

I know you made a decision to believe Jesus would forgive your sins, that you asked him into your heart, and because of those actions, you are now in Heaven celebrating with the angels and singing praises to God. Aaron, it was only 7 days before your hospitalization that we had that conversation. Then five days later God whispered your name and into Heaven you reside. No more pain, no more sorrow, no more tears and for us, no more tomorrows. I'd rather have you in Heaven for a lifetime then on this earth for a short time.

I love you and yes, I missed you running out of Tina's and wrapping your arms around me with your, "Hi, Aunt Amy! Can I carry anything?" What joy I will feel when I see you running toward me and hear your voice once again. You'll always be my A-rown. ♥

Downcast

It's not a game concerning weather.
It's a feeling of deep remorse.
Even for something we didn't do.
But for someone who did.

From the TouchPoint Bible NLT:
Loss: We suffer a great loss, a separation from someone important to us. Separation or loss means we no longer have a vital, ongoing, living relationship with this person - only memories. We no longer can talk with this person, hug or kiss this person, hold hands or walk down the street with this person, or do any one of a thousand wonderful activities with this person. Don't deny your loss. Great grief is the result of great love. The tears of Jesus at Lazarus's death forever validate our tears of grief. John 11:30-36 says, "Then Jesus wept."

I weep for you, Cathy. I weep for you, Dad. I weep for you, Maryla. I weep for my health. I weep from loss of a great job. I weep for you, Aaron. I weep for the back surgery and recovery from it.

I wait for grief to stop being so hard.
Someday that will happen.
Not today.

Fractured

With Aaron not here anymore I don't feel broken. 
I feel fractured.
Broken is when there are pieces to put back together.
Fractured is concealed until an x-ray is taken.


The x-ray shows truth.
Truth about the injury.
How long it will take to heal.  If it can heal.
A fracture can require a cast.
It can require a tight tape wrap, a sling or a boot.

Being fractured?  No, that's not possible.
Not in the death of a loved one.
Even though I feel fractured, the x-ray
Would show a gap in one area; not my entire body.

The gap would be in my heart. 
The place where all love is coveted.
A safe place for certain people to enter and exit.
A place where I choose who to let in or keep out.

Fractured. 
I can't explain what it is.
I've never been here before.
I'm sure God will reveal what it means to be
Fractured.

Gone Too Soon

Dear Aaron,
     I'm so sad you are not here.  I hoped we could start a tradition where you and Ryan put up my Christmas lights.  You guys did such an unbelievable job last year.  I doubt I'm going to duplicate it.  This picture reminds me of who you truly were.  A young man with his whole future ahead of him.  Little did we know it was going to be the last Christmas we'd spend with you.
     I'm depressed, missing you, powerless to bring you back.  I know you're with your Savior, Jesus Christ, who loves you more than we ever could.  But still, I'm sad.
     I'm receiving one of the ornaments your Dad and Tina had made in your memory.  It's very beautiful.  It captures your suave look perfectly.
     This is turning out to be a long season.
      I pray all of us will be able to get through it.
Love Aunt Amy

The Day After Thanksgiving

While the last seven months have been filled with pain and heartache, our Good God has proven Himself faithful and true.  You know when you're trying to not think about someone then that someone becomes all you can think about?  As is expected my thoughts were about Aaron.

I was doing okay until Tina showed me the ornament of Aaron that's being made for the family.  I saw the young man I new as my nephew.  The fact that he's gone is sobering.  I wanted him off the ornament, entertaining us with his captivating personality.  But that wasn't how it is.

I have a lot of gratitude for these people:  Mom, Tina, Tracy, Dale, Bill, Joe, Aaron's memory, Jon, Ryan, Hope, Samantha, Alicia, Bonnie (and family), Jo (and family), Laurie, Marie, Pam (and cats), all of my cats, Carol, Jeff, my medical team and Alcoholics Anonymous.

Now I write Christmas cards.  What a joy that will be.

Four Days Before Thanksgiving

Woman at Jesus' feet

My heart and mind are held captive by the wonderous works you do, Lord.  Your hand on my head, your hand on my cheek, your hands holding me up and your voice softly speaks.  You are my Savior, you are my Lord.  There's nothing I can do to separate us.  You love me with an everlasting love.  You help me through trials I never thought possible to survive.  You heal the broken pieces by making a new image.  Your grace is sufficient when I'm weary to the bone.  Your Word speaks truth, trust and love.  It's been called the greatest Love story ever told.  And you are!!

Love Amy Kathleen

Five Days Before Thanksgiving

Is it hard to give thanks during a time of mourning?  Is it hard to give thanks during a time of grieving?  Is it hard to give thanks during a time of healing?  I believe it's hard but not impossible.  There are so many days throughout the year when difficulties arise.  There are less days when our boat gets rocked.  Still fewer days when we are drowning in sorrow.  Each day seems to get better then a wave hits our emotions and we are tossed in the air without warning.  My pastor calls this a rogue wave.  It's subtle fury is virtually undetected until you're in the throws of it. 

Then what?  Do we toss in the towel and call it quits?  Do we self-medicate so the pain isn't so raw?  Do we contemplate hurting ourselves to have tangible marks on our body to say to ourselves, "See?  I'm feeling pain."

There are several other ways to cope.  I've learned writing is the best way for me to express how I'm feeling no matter the circumstance.  It's harder to talk about, even with a trusted friend or therapist.  Sometimes I become so choked up I can't speak.  The lump in my throat is too big.  Then there are times I can't help but talk.  I often cry which still seems like a weakness.  It isn't so I have to bridge that chasm one tear at a time.

I pray for myself, that God will teach me how to grieve.  How to grieve the way he wired me up to grieve.  If it be with people let my discernment do the choosing.  If it be private let my solitude hear God's whispers.  Self-destruction is never a good choice (even if it's the most convenient) so I pray to be shown and given new tools in learning how to cope with loss.

I love the Lord with all my heart, soul, mind and strength.  I hope you do.  If not, I hope you do soon.

Amy

Picture God singing this to you:

 

Seeing with Your Own Eyes

So many questions, so little time.
My story is real, it's only mine.
Questions need answers, God only knows,
What to say to us when we are low.

Questions without answers seem more common these days.  Writing is helping the pain go away.  But when will it visit me next?  This answer I do not have.  But when the next wind hits, I'm hoping I won't be mad.


Questions without answers, a frustration hard to tell.  Sometimes it feels like heaven, other days not so well.  Why did they all die?  A silly question, I know.  But days are hard and nights are long for those who do not know.  God holds the answers, I know He holds the key.  He's not singling me out, no, it has nothing to do with me.  


Man was given free will to choose on his own.  Who he'll be faithful to, dedicated to God's throne?  Only time will tell through testing and trials, who'll be the one to discover God's amazing love, His story unfolds.


Seeing with my own eyes is very limiting indeed.
For I have scales over my eyes making it difficult to read.
The Bible is God's word written for man,
Made in His image doing the best he can.


So why do troubles always come my way?
Because I serve Jesus and love Him in every way!
Question answered.
Eyes opened.
Heart transformed.
Soul saved.


Thank you, Abba Father.
Love always and forever, 
Amy Kathleen

Gray Days

Dear God,

Today is a gray day yet my mood remains positive. I'm mailing my Thanksgiving cards tomorrow. I'll start Christmas cards soon after. I just might stay home this Thanksgiving. Sit in being thankful, not distracted by food. Keeping the weight loss going is hard enough without all the temptation of that day.

I'm distracted even now. My brain chemicals must be off. Time to switch over to the new doses.

I hope they work!

Love Amy

7 Months

Dear God,

What seemed like the end of the world last week has been surprisingly manageable today. When my thoughts and emotions lingered on Aaron's death I was saddened and angered at the same time. Grief is confusing, but then again, what troubles in this life aren't?

When I saw my therapist (Jeff) today we talked about the chasm between what we grew up knowing and what survival techniques we picked up learning how to manage our emotional roller coasters. The chasm starts out pretty wide. As we grow in maturity and through life's tough challenges, with a little help, we're able to reduce that chasm to a morsel instead of a mountain.

You've been teaching me that sorrow does not have to be taken out by cutting my body to shreds. I don't need the physical pain or the sight of my own blood to feel. I need to be on top of the depression, the fleeting thoughts of harm to my body and talk to those who are professionals or mature believers in Christ.

Taking it to You in prayer is another reminder of bringing You closer to me. Thank you for all the ways you love me. I am deserving of your love because Christ died on the cross for my sin and I've accepted His payment in full. Without you, there is no hope.

Thank you that Aaron made that decision. On this day, the seven month anniversary of his death, I'm reminded once again that he's with You. He has a new life free from pain, suffering and tears. No more huffing, no more of anything that was hurting him.

I miss him dearly, Lord. We all miss him. Please comfort us in our grief as we seek answers to questions that have no answer. I trust in You, Lord. Only You.

Love Amy Kathleen

When I Look

When I look into my eyes, I no longer despise,
The person looking back at me, whom I can clearly see.
She's got a lot on her plate, brought down from Heaven's gate,
Though it's very hard to wait, I try not to hesitate.
For I know everything works together for those who love Christ,
As far as I know the ending is always nice.

When I look into my Bible, all the stories I read,
Are for God's lost people, to see Him, indeed.
The truths that are told, at times are hard to believe,
Until bible scholars and scientists, both fully agree.
God's word is written, by the people of His land,
As far as I know, it was written by His hand.

When I look at the world around me, the suffering, the pain,
It resonates in my heart, that people live in shame.
Jesus asked us to take care of the poor,
To feed them and clothe them, that's for sure.
God's love is real, let's never forget,
That Jesus paid for our sin, we're no longer in debt!

A Quiet Life

There are times I miss a quiet life.
But is there such a thing? Really?
A quiet life could be one without strife.
A life without quarrels, without bitterness,
Without betrayals, without death.

No, there is no such thing as a quiet life.
Yes, there is such a thing as a peace filled life.

A life with strife where loved ones hold onto us.
A life with quarrels which expose a relationship's foundation.
A life of bitterness which challenges us to look in the mirror at our own imperfections.
A life of betrayals which teach us lessons we don't have to repeat.
A life with death - where we are blown out of our minds in grief.

A quiet life can be one where the Almighty God is present.
A life of fulfillment. A life of peace during difficult times.
A life of learning self-control and self-discipline.
A life patterned after Jesus, the Greatest Gift of all.

A quiet life? Yes, there is such a thing.
I enjoy it every time it comes in for a visit!

Be Still My Lips

Don't argue with the pain. Don't deny it isn't real.
Listen to it's voice.  Be quiet, be still.

The voices you hear screaming are somewhere deep inside.
The messages they're sending are problematic besides.

When those evil voices haunt your daily routine,
Reach out to God, not your broken self-esteem.

The voices aren't real, they are your fears giving a shout.
They continue to beg you, for you to find their way out.

My soul, wait in silence for God only, you say.
Then the whispers become angry and I can't make them go away.

I try to talk, I try to write but nothing seems to work.
It's as though I'm stuck inside, the crying, the hurt.

When it boils down to who I trust, Jesus Christ is His name.
I hold him in my blankey, to some, that might be lame.

But there is only One who knows it all, the big and the small.
For now I am a tiny girl, snuggled tightly into a ball.

So how does this tradgedy end, how does it all fit?
I suppose I'll know in the future, when God reveals it.

"Hang onto your sanity, Amy, don't let it go.
I have so many plans for you, you'll never outgrow.
As you seek to know Me better, may I give you this?
Never doubt my love for you, you're My little miss."

End

Glazed Eyes

Absent of emotion. Bereaved with pain.
Cautious of feeling. Dead again.

End of a life. Fretting my own.
Giving up hope. Hopeless and alone.

Introvert caves. Justify waves.
Keeping track. Lamenting their flack.

Misery seeps in. Nothing seeps out.
Open a wound. Prickly people pop out.

Quiet at home. Rest and I roam.
Stop the whispers. True love withers.

Undeniable death. Vulnerable to the test.
Where do I belong? X-it, stage left.

Yearning for heaven...Zero pain forever!

Slow and Steady

My former boss tells this story:

There once was a strong young man who challenged an old man to a contest of chopping wood.  The young man was confident he would win because of his muscles and youth.  The old man accepted the challenge so the contest began. The young man chopped the wood as fast as he could but he noticed the old man taking frequent breaks between his chopping.  When the contest was over the old man won! 

"How did you win?" asked the young man for he was very tired and confused.
The old man replied, "With each break, I sharpened my axe."

In my experience with grief I find myself taking breaks to sharpen my axe.  I sleep more.  Some days I eat more - or less - depending on how I'm feeling.  I try to extend grace to myself when I have to cancel an engagement.  I have to redefine what "normal" is now that these people are no longer in my here and now.

I've been reading that grief is one of the ways God helps us heal slowly and may I add, intentionally.  He wants us to slow down and grieve.  Don't rush through it.  Don't try to tell yourself it's not real.  Don't hide your feelings from those who want to help.  Be real with yourself and others.  Do it slow and steady, as God wants you to.

Some people, myself included, want to run through the grief like there's no weight on their shoulders.  On the contrary, I feel so weighed down that it's often hard to accomplish any task or relationship during the day, sometimes during the week.  I've been slowed down by something that isn't logical.  I don't understand all the intricacies of grief.  It baffles me that grief has such an effect on my physical energy and emotional steadiness.  I think it's supposed to.

Jesus wept. 
Nowadays, so do I.

It's the Little Things

Ryan, Joe, Aaron, Amy, Jon, Hope, Samantha & Alicia

 

'08

For Christmas 2009, the day was a little hectic so a photo of me with the kids wasn't doable.  This is the last photo I have of all of us.  It's one of those pictures that will be less one child in 2010.

It's the little things...
Aaron's hand on my arm.
Him saying, "Hi Aunt Amy!!"
Shopping for his gifts.
Wrapping his gifts.
Putting his name on gifts.
Watching his eyes as he opens his presents.
Exchanging looks.
Giving hugs.
Hearing his voice.

The little things. 
They are much larger, now that he is gone. 
I wish he was here so I could give him...
More little things.

A kiss on the cheek.
A smile from across the room.
A conversation just between us.
Sharing laughs in the car.
Playing games with he and his brothers.
Watching them play hard nose football.
Movies, stories and Jesus.

I miss you, Aaron.  I always will.
Love Aunt Amy

The Days After

  
"Whether we meet our grief with a determined avoidance of tears or a seeming overabundance of them, one thing is sure, our lives have been changed irrevocably."    (Page 48 of Grieving the Loss of Someone You Love)

What do you do when the funeral is over, the attention is gone and you're left with no one but yourself to cope with the grief and loss that is effecting everything in your life?  I talked to family members when I could, went to therapy when I could, went to AA meetings when I could but didn't cry until later.

Surprising, isn't it?  Not really.  I've been told shock is one of the first things the body goes into when it's overwhelmed by emotional circumstances or events.  I can attest to that logic.  My entity went into shock for many months up until now.  Now I can reach out.  Now I can write.  Now I can talk.  Now I can cry.

Facing the loss of someone you loved and will never have a chance to see again is sad.  It's unchangeable, it shakes you up, it destroys what little serenity you were clinging to.  It interrupts normalcy and demands you be taken hostage in its grips.  But then what?


I don't know.  Today I am numb to the pain of it all.  I see Aaron's photo frame, Cathy's memorial card, Maryla's picture, Bill and Sharon, and a series of pictures of my Dad and I.  It's called the memory wall.  It holds pictures of people who have died who have touched my life in someway.  Karen is up there, too, but her loss was many years ago.

It's healing to see pictures after the death of a loved one.  It brings them back into real time even though my heart and mind know differently.  I suppose that's one way to unpack the pain.  Bring it out of the shadows and watch it as it gives light to a whole new understanding of death.

Dear God, please make me an instrument of your peace so that all who see You will come to You, be saved by Your Grace and worship Your Name for you are a Holy God.

Give Sorrow Words???

I've never written about the week Aaron died.  From Monday through Friday all sorts of things were happening.  I think if I were to try and recount it, I would fall to the floor and weep.

What did I do in those five days?

Did I tell Aaron how much I loved him, how much I wanted him to fight for his life knowing he was dying anyway?  Did I stand by my sister and brother in law as they watched his son hooked up to machines that made all sorts of noises?  Did I bring comfort to their pain as they watched Aaron struggle for life?  What about Aaron's mom?  Did I show her the love of Christ in those moments, setting aside all dissension?  I believe I did all these things and much more.

Yes, if I were to piece together all the words of sorrow I felt I would fall on my face and weep.

And maybe it's as simple as that - weep.

A Time To Mourn

On September 6th when our family tried to figure out how and what to do for Aaron's birthday one little girl noticed something was wrong.


My niece Alicia, all of six, said, "This is the saddest birthday party I've ever been to."
"Yeah," was all I could say as we sat together in front of his urn and flowers.
Then she asked, "Where's Aaron?  Isn't he coming?"
 "No honey, he's not here."
"Where is he?"
"He's in Heaven."
"When do I get to go to Heaven?"
"When God comes to get you."
"Oh, I wish He'd make it soon.  I miss Aaron and Cathy and Maryla.  I told Aaron to watch for Smudge so she won't be alone and he can take care of her."
"Thanks, honey.  I miss him, too."

The powerful innocence of one so young.  Our talk grabbed my gut in a whole new way.  I, too, was wishing Aaron was here or I was with him in Heaven.  It is not well with my soul that he's away from us.  Don't get me wrong, I'm glad he's in Heaven and not in Hell.  The separation from him is at times unbearable.

I pray for the day when we will meet again.  When his blue eyes will greet me with sparkling joy.  And he'll run to me and I to him with God saying, "Welcome home."  I miss him so much...

More Process

Upon reflection of the past few days, I have concluded I cannot make and should not make any major decisions due to the unpredictability of grief.  Unfortunately I almost made the choice to fire my therapist, cut myself and runaway from the pain.  I thought about hospitalization.  Then I was reminded to try and get through this tough time with the help of my therapist and friends.  So, here I am.

Samuel Clemons wrote, "It is one of the mysteries of our nature that a man, all unprepared, can receive a thunder-stroke like that and live.  There is but one reasonable explanation of it.  The intellect is stunned by the shock and by groping gathers the meaning of the words.  The power to realize their full import is mercifully wanting.  The mind has a dumb sense of vast loss - that is all.  It will take mind and memory months and possibly years to gather the details and thus learn and know the whole extent of the loss."

I think my bereavement has waited for my mind to be clearly conscious before it entered into all the loss I have suffered since October 2006.  That's when my physical/emotional self started having memories of childhood sexual abuse.  I believe God knew I was ready for a wake up call - one that is not dialed easily nor is it a short conversation.  Two years later I had the first of many months of seizures.  My physical body was now in torment and my mental status went right along with it.  I grabbed at booze and cutting to ease my pain but neither worked.  I pleaded and attempted suicide but that didn't work either.  The Holy Spirit kept whispering hopeful and challenging words to me so I would increase good behavior or immediately stop self-destructive behavior. 

I isolated, I ran emotionally, I hid my pain, I denounced close friendships.  I felt unworthy of any kindness, understanding, love or compassion.  I was a mess and didn't want to spill it on anyone else.  What I didn't know then that I know now is they had a towel and were prepared to help me. 

Now the feelings flood out of me.  I have days I'm in bed depressed but not suicidal.  I have days where I don't shower or wash my hair.  I have days when I talk to no one.  I have days my eyes are so swollen I fall asleep and awake with the same condition.

I am processing grieving.  This is what it's like...for me.

Questions

T  

"The thing that destroys a good many of us as Christians is our inability to relate to each other in a warm, honest, compassionate sort of way.  Even with those to whom I was so close, I failed in this endeavor.  I was so busy being a "doing" Christian that I'd forgotten what God called me to be."

I can relate to a lot of that statement.  Since 2006 I've been feeling a lot of emotional pain coupled by seizures then major back surgery which added physical pain.  Today I am grieving emotionally and hurting physically.  How does one do the balancing act when both parts of your psyche are entrenched in bullets shooting at you with no relief in sight?  When sneezing or coughing send shock waves throughout your body as does bumping any part of your body against a solid object?  This I am trying to find out.

What do you do when you schedule a two hour session per your therapist's request then upon arriving find out she's cut the last hour so she can get paperwork done?  What do you do when you've been crying for a couple of days and counting on that time to undo the mess you're feeling inside?  How do you react to such news that kicks you in the stomach and knocks the wind out of you?  This I am trying to figure out.

Do I just move on and forget about the hurt, loss and anger I'm feeling?  As a Christian do I approach the therapist with truth?  As a pain sufferer do I let others know how I'm really doing or do I keep it to myself because it's getting old to talk about?  How do I blend all of this together but not let it overcome my thoughts and become obsessed with the answer?  This I am trying to let go of.  

I've had many offers of help from those I would call close friends.  I try to let them in but sometimes I don't because I'm afraid of what I'm letting them into.  Into areas I don't even understand or haven't processed yet.  I don't want to do this all alone.  I've done that too often.  I've hurt those I love by making that decision.  I don't want to do that again.  

Integrating.  Vulnerability.  Intimacy.  Feeling like a bother.  Weighed down.  Crying.  Sobbing.  Weeping.  Legitimate pain.  Legitimate concerns.  Legitimate needs.

I am needy and it's very uncomfortable.  I'd rather cut.

I Will Follow Him

When a grieving heart is contrite and broken how does it know what to follow? How does it know who to trust? How can anything bring about healing and joy? These are the things I ponder.

Jeremiah 29:11 says, "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart."

When I become overwhelmed by the depth of sadness I'm feeling suicide pops into my vulnerable head as an alternative to the pain I'm in. The darkness of no more light is tempting - that's the way Satan wants it. I'm reminded to turn those dark moments toward the face of God who is Light. The pain I feel is real and should never be shoved aside.  The suicidal thoughts I have are real, too, and must not be shoved aside.

When professional help backfires it's important to remember the friends I have who are praying for me. I'm not responsible for another person's broken decision that directly effects me. Instead I have to stay on the path God has purposed for me at this time in my life. How I feel is not a surprise to Him like it is to me. He's been there and understands.

I reached out to my best friend over the weekend. We will share some time tomorrow where I can talk openly and candidly with her about how I'm feeling. I trust her implicitly knowing she'll take my broken heart and hold it gently in her hands. I'm safe in her presence.

I will follow God all the days of my life, praying for submission to His will and plans for my life.

Processing Loss

Smudge's grave and Aaron's Urn

I had vivid weird dreams last night. I think I was processing the day. Not being able to stay for the hour with my therapist, crying hard most of the day then sleeping deeply during the day and at night. The dream was intense as are my feelings.

My stomach is sour, my head aches, I'm tired and I'm still teary. In a little bit the dam will burst again and the hurt will pour out. It's messy, it's wet and it's understandable. Or so I've been told.

From the book "Necessary Losses", is this quote:
"Teach me how to know death and go on with life."

"To know death is to know these things are normal: feelings of immense sadness, helplessness, hopelessness, fear, emptiness, irritability, anger, guilt, restlessness and isolation. We may experience a change in appetite, sleep patterns or sex drive. We can expect to spend some time feeling enormous fatigue. You will heal more quickly and fully if you accept all of these facets of grief as part of your healing process. God created humans with a natural ability to heal, so rest assured, healing will happen. In fact, it's happening right now" (taken from Grieving the Loss of Someone You Love).

A feeling of warmth just swept over me. I'm committed to taking the time I need to heal. It will probably be a long time but that's okay. I don't seem to be worse off for all the crying. In fact I think it's helping me cleanse a lot of loss.

Aaron's death pushed me over the edge. Now it's time to be alone and also bring people along side me. I'm doing the best I can (which is progress) in bringing my top three people along with me on this journey. I still get scared at the depth of the sadness. Sharing that with someone is awfully intimate.

Am I ready?
I'm getting there.

No More Celebrations

On the day of his birthday, Aaron wasn't there. He didn't drive up, honking his horn, announcing his arrival for his 19th birthday. Instead there was an eerie silence on a beautiful late summer day. He's gone.

Celebrations stop abruptly when someone you love dies. There are no more recent snapshots of the one you love. The pictures you have are the ones you'll have forever - nothing new. No new memories, no new joys, no new anything. Death steals any hope of your loved one returning.

It's not like Aaron called and said he'd be late. Heaven called and said he came home. It's been five months since Aaron died. The pain feels worse than it did on that day. Deeper somehow. How does that happen?

He's no longer lost. I can't seem to find my way out of waves of tears and sadness. I keep crying until I've exhausted myself only to wake up with swollen eyes and another tidal wave of tears and crying. Crying from the depths of grief where I've never cried before.

Cathy, Dad, Maryla, Aaron, Smudge, Disability, Loss of job, Physical Limitations. When does it stop? When will I no longer feel the punch in the gut or having the wind knocked out of me? When does grief finish or is it a lifetime curse until I'm in the Presence of the One I love?

A lonely day.
A sad day.

A Grieving Heart, A Healing Heart

My heart aches in disbelief, shock and numbness.
Where did the young boy who was so full of life disappear to?
Who is this young man in the hospital room?
He's brain dead, blind, deaf, paralyzed, unable to breathe on his own.

His name is Aaron and he's my nephew.

He was a lost child trying to live through enormous amounts of pain.
His coping mechanism was huffing propane to stuff the deep hurt.
His affect was cheerful and happy; inside he was dying.
Dying a slow death of unhappiness and emotional wounds.
He never asked for help no matter how many times it was offered.

Today would be Aaron's 19th birthday.
For me, it's the five month anniversary of his death and his birthday.
A sad day, for all of us.
Our family is coming together at Dale and Tina's this afternoon.
I need to be with them to share my grief, support my family and honor Dale and Tina.

Aaron's death will never be easy to handle.
It will become easier to cope and maybe, easier to talk about.
His death leaves a hole in my heart.

I wish he would join us today - in person - so we could help him.
I want to talk to him and get those secrets out that hurt him so badly.
My nephew must have been in so much turmoil that he had to find a way to stop it.
He did - permanently.

God welcomed Aaron home with outstretched arms and an embrace that healed Aaron right at that moment.

When Words Are Empty and Friends Are Few

It's mid-morning on February 12, 2008. I'm at work. The phone rings. It's Tracy. She asks me if I'm sitting down. There's a tone in her voice that indicates something serious has happened. She tells me Cathy died in a car accident that morning. Death number one.

It's mid-morning on February 21, 2008. I'm at work. The phone rings. It's Tracy. She asks me if I'm sitting down. Her tone is different this time - something happened again but this time it's in our family. "Please God, not one of the kids." She tells me my Dad died that morning. Death number two.

It's midday on November 6, 2008. I'm at home. The phone rings. It's Tina. There's something wrong. Maryla has been hospitalized and is in a coma. She's not expected to live much longer. Basia is flying in tomorrow. We're getting together to say our good-byes. On November 11, 2008 Maryla passes away. Death number three.

It's the beginning of August 2009.  The phone rings.  It's Tracy.  There's something wrong.  It's her sponsor, Sharon.  The cancer is aggressive and it's only a matter of time.  She's not suffering much.  Hospice is called in.  Only Tracy and Sharon's family are allowed to be there during the final hours.  She dies August 20th.  Death number four.

It's later in the afternoon on April 12th, 2010. I'm at home. The phone rings. It's my Mom. She asks me if I'm sitting down. There's a tone in her voice that says something serious has happened. "Please God, not one of my sisters." She tells me Aaron is in the hospital unconscious - they don't know if he's going to make it. Four days later, Aaron dies. Death number five.

Five people in twenty-six months. That averages one death every 5.2 months. Significant loss. Deep hurt. Unconsolable grief. The more times death happens the closer I pull into myself and the more I distance myself from friends. Nothing can prepare you for this kind of loss.

Nothing should have to.

My Blanket

I have an all cotton blanket that's close to me in bed.
I hold onto it tightly as I rest my weary head.
It catches all the tears that fall and never gets too wet.
My blanket is my security and that I don't regret.

When feelings overcome my intellect and strange things start to happen,
I try to curl up in my bed and wrap myself in cotton.
Two months ago a fetal position was a safe place to be,
But that was way before I had back surgery.

Now I curl up by folding my arms across my chest,
Bending my knees and hiding my eyes seem to work out best.
When emotions are raw and I struggle to stay alert,
I reach out to my closest friends cuz I know that they won't hurt.

My blanket is my closest friend, it's true for me to say,
That every time I need my blanket it never goes away.

Depression is like an old shoe-

Sometimes, it feels just right.

To my pastor: I'm pretty teary these days. My heart feels broken.
From my pastor: I'll be praying for you, dear Heart.

To my best friend: I hurt, I'm crying and I feel broken.
From my best friend: you’ve been pushing pretty hard lately, but doing G-R-E-A-T!! Maybe a little warmth and sun will do you some good. It is a beautiful day. God is gluing together the broken pieces – of all of us – day by day! Forgetting what lies behind, looking forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the UPWARD call of God in Christ Jesus.

To my dear friend: I just feel like crying with all this stuff.
From my dear friend: I'll call you when I get back. I'll be praying for you. Rest in Him, dear one.

To a friend: Today I am grieving the loss of my cat (Smudge) and the death of Aaron (my nephew). I have been crying most of the morning. The grief book I'm reading said to take a risk and let someone into my space, telling them how I'm doing. I've done this with my daily life friends and now I bring it to you.

My heart is broken today. Pieces of me are wandering around in depression, sadness and a deep sense of loss. The shock is wearing off and the reality of such pain is finally beginning to surface. I'm not denouncing or trying to stuff these feelings in any way. I am learning to welcome them as a temperature gauge for healing.

From that friend: I'm so sorry to hear about Smudge. Pets are such wonderful gifts . . . their presence, their antics, their unconditional love (at least for dogs!) . . . and it is such a loss when they're gone. I trust you're sensing God's presence and love during these days. He knows . . .

My cry to God:

Sadness, again

Elizabeth Kubler-Ross, "On Death and Dying". Below are the five major landmarks most of us will pass on our path to healing.

Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Sorrow and Acceptance.

I'm learning I (and many others) do not feel those in that order. Sorrow seems to be the steady feeling thus far. Some anger but mostly sorrow. How can you lose so much in such a short amount of time and not feel sorrow? I get angry at what's happened - the deaths, the losses, the limitations - but it seems to hide the deep well of hurt and sorrow.

My posture is bent over, I hold the stress in my back which is trying to heal from major surgery six weeks ago today, my blood pressure is up, my appetite is down and all the while I ask God, WHY? I hear the echos in my head that tell me all the proper Christian answers but none of them bring me closer to my Heavenly Father. I am tired and I am weak.

I want to go home to be with Aaron, Maryla, Cathy, Smudge; to be completely healthy without pain or suffering; to be with my Abba Father; to be set completely free from this body and from this life. It's too difficult.

I am sad. I am burdened.
I have hope. I have help.
I grieve loss.
I suffer.

I am loved by God, my Everlasting Father.
Only He can help me through this until the bitter end.

For He is the one who created me and knows me by name.

More of the same but different

Not only have I lost people, health, job and pets but I lost my purity at the hand of an alcoholic. I was very young. I hid my sorrow deep within and vowed never to let it out. In 2006, I began the "mid-life" crisis. All of those sorrows began piling up all around me. There was no escape from the hurt all those pains caused.

Some of the signposts have been illegible; others have been as clear as a cloudless blue sky. Some have gray swirling clouds ready for tornado touchdown; others are as unreachable as clouds in the upper troposphere. Some signposts have words; others have pictures; and still others are yet to be written upon.

I've read that burn victims have a greater chance of dying from infection that gets below the burn rather than from the burn itself. In order to prevent this from happening the burn must be scrubbed regularly which causes the patient a great deal of pain. It's said to be one of the worst aspects of the healing process.

Scrubbing was not my thing. It never had been...until now. I have too much pain beneath the surface to continue ignoring its effects in all aspects of the life God has given me. It effects sleep, hunger, energy, mood and friendships. I've read the grieving process is not neat and clean. It takes time; often, lots of time. It is intensely painful and at times, gut-wrenching. We often feel numb, outraged and confused. But most of all, we feel hurt.

Jesus had his three, his twelve and the multitude. I've identified my three, almost have my twelve and the multitude is an ever changing group of people. Each relationship is different. I hope my three continue to grow with me and I with them. Each of us is evolving into who God created us to be. With all sincerity, I hope my three never leave. I love them very much and will forevermore.

Amy

I hate my life

What do you do when you tell one of your three closest friends the above statement? Do you fear their response? I did. Here's a message one of them sent me:

"You are a marvel Amy; I admire your steadfastness and longsuffering. I will be praying for relief for you from your distress. I LOVE YOU!!"

Puts it in perspective, doesn't it?

In therapy I offered to write about the little book I'm reading entitled, "Grieving the Loss of Someone You Love". I'll start at the beginning with the Introduction.


I feel too injured to be helped. Like there's nothing left to do but put me out of my misery. I'm frightened and want to be held. I want to be given a sleep-inducing drug that will swiftly move me from life to death in an instant. Never to return, never to hurt again.

I postponed feeling the death of four people, my health challenges, loss of job, one pet death and one pet missing since August 2008. I am tired, worn out and now my therapist (and I) think it's time to talk about the grief, my self esteem and my identity. What an enormous task.

I would describe myself as terrified, afraid we're going to fight, afraid I'm going to walk out and afraid I won't be put back together at the end of each session.

For each of these life events I've felt vulnerable to feelings of loss and isolation, loss of self control, powerlessness and the need to self injure by cutting or suicide.

When does it all end? When I begin to let the chaos in my head reach down to my heart. As is said, that's the longest distance in the world to travel.

What Do You Do When

What do you do when you feel like cutting?
What do you do when you feel like crying?
What do you do when you feel so much loss?
What do you do when you can't pay the cost?

I think all the sadness is hitting me today. It's not like any other day except my feelings are strong and my ability to navigate out or through them is not as clear. It's as though I have a train in front of me and I'm trying to push it back so I don't get run over. Trampled and crushed. Flattened and dead.

There is no light at the end of the tunnel today.
Only rocks and stones and darkness and cold.
Raging thoughts, hurricane feelings and tornado sirens in my head.
Sirens or signs? Winds or insights? Water or hope?

I don't know yet.

Aaron on my mind...

I know your gone,
But I don't understand,
How you went from here
Into God's PromiseLand.

Aaron, I miss you and
I know I always will.
You loved me with your heart
That was filled with life's thrills.

Be at peace, my dear nephew - Love Aunt Amy

Here's My Hand, My Heart Is In It

Dear Abba Father,

This morning my head is filled with all sorts of thoughts. Mostly the struggle I'm having to stay sober after 10 months of not having a drink. I didn't realize how much of an alcoholic I am, how using alcohol to cope lead to my demise for many years, emotionally. I'm so filled with grief and anger about Aaron I don't know what to do or where to turn. So I went to another meeting last night because staying at home in my own head was leading to trouble. Listening to other alcoholics talk about their "glory days" and their walk through Step Two was helpful.

"Came to believe that a Power greater than myself could restore me to sanity." If I were to pick out a bible reference for this it would be the reference Paul makes about wanting to do what's right yet his actions were all wrong. That's the insanity of living down here. I came to believe in you at a very young age despite the abuse. I also believe you are restoring me from brokenness to wholeness even through the emotions of Aaron's death. What I struggle with is how to express what I'm feeling inside.

Writing has always been a good outlet. So has praying. A friend in AA told me that what I'm feeling is very normal and taking a drink will only complicate it. I won't be able to support my niece Hope as she goes through her grief and my life will not be changed for the better. In fact, it will get worse. It was a good reminder as I remembered last summer. Sitting in my car with a rag, a knife, Benedryl and the thing you mix with it to commit suicide. I was at the location, I had the tools, I had the plan and then you spoke...."What are you doing?"

It was like you snapped your fingers and I woke up from hypnosis. I looked down at what I was doing and said, "I don't know." Your Holy Spirit told me to throw away the knife, pack up the other stuff then go camp for a couple of days to clear my head and be with you. I did so. Little did I know that back home people were praying for me because they knew I left to commit suicide. I didn't know they knew for I was so wrapped up in myself that I didn't reach out for help until I got back. Hospitalized again, I got what I needed and walked out.

I haven't had a drink since that day nor have I cut. I've been able, with your help and the support of family and friends to continue on this path of recovery. Death is eminent. Your time to take Aaron was pre-scheduled. I hope he died with You in his heart.

Love Amy

Why Am I Here?

Dear Heavenly Father,

That question is floating around in my head at this early hour of the day. Why am I here? On this earth, at this time in history, with a body that is broken down, a mind that is not as sharp as it was two years ago, a spirit that wanders in the darkness looking for a beacon of light, a young child wanting to be comforted from all the hurt and sadness she feels inside.

Why am I here? I study my face and see the deep brown eyes, the clear complexion, the shape of my eyebrows and nose, my lips full of color and my hair with strands of gray but still mostly brown. My facial features can show the weathering of a long cold winter where sorrow sleeps or it can show a smile where hurt is underneath. It can avoid people's eyes or it can meet them with great confidence. But still I ask...

Why am I here? To need you, to please you, to serve you, to honor your name.

Why do I feel so empty inside? Numb, wanting to drink away the feelings when they start to surface, sleepless, medicated, bad body.

Turned off the switch.

Chronic Depression

Dear God,

There are days I find it so hard to get out of bed so I can take the medications to help the depression level off. Eventually I get up and eventually I get going.

My heart is heavy inside, filled with burdens that are not mine to carry. Your word says in Matthew to give them to you for your yoke is easy and your burden is light. How I long for the day when all burdens will be lifted by your capable hands.

Intellectually, I know it's the imbalance of neurotransmitters that cause the depression in addition to mood swings and emotional instability. But none of it really matters when you're in the midst of it and you're fighting the paralysis of your body and your mind.

Emotionally, I'm either frozen or drowning in tears. Today I am frozen. Yesterday I was drowning in tears. Today I have a migraine, one that tingles all over my head. My hands are numb but still I can type pretty good. I am grateful.

God, help me to see the provision you've had for my illnesses. Remind me of your goodness and your faithfulness when my gas tank is on empty. Don't ever let me stop having hope. I put my trust in you.

Love your daughter,
Amy Kathleen

Waking

Everyday seems to weigh heavy on my shoulders. Waking is happening all hours during the night as I hear myself shout out or wake to my shouting. I have no recollection of what is occurring in my sub-conscious. I know it's processing and releasing deep roots of pain.

Today I had a difficult time not crying. The same shouts continued but this time I used my back rest as a pillow and a side of it as someone holding me for comfort. I think it was Carol. I was scared most of the night. Hiding, protecting, changing sleeping positions, hearing footsteps and other noises. As I write, I zone out.

I'm sober. I went to a meeting. Tomorrow I ask someone to be my sponsor. Tomorrow night I go to my next AA meeting. Saturday night I go to church. I think I have another infection. I'm so tired.

God, please help me physically. Grant wisdom to Dr. Laura. Please provide for my financial need. Please guide Matt's family, release Nancy's illness in your time, help Elizabeth find her Coda meetings, help Tom, Soni and I to work on my financial task without difficulty, provide the right job for Annie and Nancy N., and bring funding to Bright Hope so the gospel message can be carried and Mike/John will be protected from disease and illness in Haiti.

I am weak and worn out.
Your faithful daughter,
Amy

This Christmas

This is the second Christmas since my Dad's passing. All I want to be able to do is have a conversation with my Dad. Just me and him in a room with two lazy boy rockers watching a football game. Him drinking his Diet Rite and I drinking my Mug Root Beer. Just the two of us.

The Christmas decorations would be simple like that little Charlie Brown Christmas tree he had on top of his big TV. It was a plastic tree with red berries on it. Ugliest thing in the world. But he liked it. For many years it was his only decoration. Or at least the only one I remember.

He'd be wearing his jeans, t-shirt, flannel shirt, slippers, eating cashews and offering some to me. We wouldn't talk much. Just sit and watch the game. I'd look around the room and see him everywhere. Paperwork, knick-knacks, cigarettes, the smell of his cologne or after shave, for years that after shave never changed. That's one thing he wasn't wearing the day I said good-bye when he was in the crematory box. No smell.

My dad was different when he stopped drinking. He wasn't sober and his choice in women didn't change but at least his eyes had life in them for a short time. For a short time, I had a dad. And for the second time before his death, I lost that dad.

All I want for Christmas is a child's wish...to be able to give her daddy one last kiss, one last hug, receive one last tassel of my hair then let him go and both of us be at peace with each other. The little girl inside wants to be held tightly by her daddy just one more time, just like he sometimes used to do. Where I felt the safest and the strength of my daddy. Even if there was beer present. It didn't matter. My daddy was holding me and I could close my eyes and be safe in his big strong arms even if just for a few minutes.

How I treasure those memories.

I'm Amazed

A dream...

I'm living in our old house, sitting on my bed. The lights are out except for the hallway light. I'm looking at my notebook when all of a sudden a shadow appears. "Tina?", I ask. No response. My adrenalin starts to kick into gear. I move my notebook and he's standing there looking down at me. Then he's gone.

Part 2. I'm telling Tina about this dream I had where I was flying in a forward loop taring paper as I flew. All of a sudden the power went out. I told her to stay there. I got up out of bed with my fists up ready to defend us. I was thirteen years old. I checked Tracy's room. She was in there. I moved quietly ready to swing my fists when I called out my mom's name. She answered and said she'd forgotten to pay the electric bill. My heart was pumping wildly. I was ready to attack any threat to my family. When I heard her voice, I woke up. I was sweating, my heart pounding and I can't fall back to sleep.

All I wonder is: Where was he in the darkness this time? Did he see me coming? Did my defense stop another sexual abuse occurrence from happening? My fists were tight and I woke up ready to fight. Did this ever really happen or is God helping me process more feelings since this is the 2nd year of his death?

In any case, I'm amazed I survived.

15 days and wha'd'ya get

Another day older and deeper in debt.

I don't know why that song popped in my head but it did. Since the appendectomy all I've been doing for 12 days is sleeping, resting, taking pain pills, resting and sleeping some more then going out some then coming back home to recover from the outside adventure by sleeping long hours. Not much to talk about the holes are healing. The steri strips came off today by way of Tracy's fingers. I still loose my breath at times (Cats! Anybody seen my airway?) Then my legs get all wiggly like their on a jelly cruise ship. Tracy: What was that? Me: What? Her: The leg thing? Oh, that's my funky chicken dance. She looks at me like we need to do something about it. I look back at her as if to say, "How many neurologists does it take to diagnose epilepsy?" To which her facial expression says, "How many?" "I don't know. I'll let you know when I know." Then we continue shopping and I continue dancing.

I know I'm making light of it. My doctor signed a form for a temporary handicap placard - 6 months. I keep saying something is wrong here with my brain and with my body but the response is always "Nothing showed up on the scan or MRI." My Christian response overrides my fleshly response several times otherwise I'd be in jail for assaulting a doctor. We're on year two, going for year two. I'm fighting an uphill battle that is against me, one that thinks this is all in my mind. Believe me, I'm creative with words, not with physical ailments like I've been experiencing. If I were I'd stop them. I'm tired. Worn out. Fatigued.

I know God believes me and sees all things, hears all things, knows all things. I have to believe He will resolve all things according to His will for my life and for those He wants me to touch. I've been told so many times already how my words really help people to feel better and what a special woman I am with a special gift. If this is who I am meant to stay, I will stay. I guess I want to exhaust my resources and make sure I've done all I can do to give God every chance to show me what life will be for a little while or forever.

More courage? Yeah, I need more courage and acceptance.

Mourning Into Dancing

Went home at 11:15, got ready for the Barrington Children's Choir with friends then had a seizure attack in my legs while we were sitting down. Took an Ativan which helped a little but not a lot.

Saw my loving Diane and cried when I saw her. She's one friend I really miss. We hugged for a long time and I cried as I held onto her. I was with true friends and I bumped into a true friend. What is God trying to remind me? I'm not as alone as I feel.

Soni, Tom, Pam and I went out for a nice dinner. Soni had won the grand prize - a Christmas tree filled with 16 gift cards. She prayed if there was someone else in need who needed it, let them win. I told God there's no one more deserving of His gift of giving than Tom and Soni. :-) Soni surprised all of us that day. She layed out the gift cards all on the table and we picked which ones we wanted. This helped me with two Christmas gifts! And what fun we had getting to know each other better.

A time to celebrate when Tom's dad has reached the fullness of his life and no longer wants to continue living; a time when Soni's Dad is experiencing complications and is all the way in Ohio; a time when I've just been diagnosed with epilepsy; and a time when Pam can be a supportive friend for her best friend Christine.

God wants us to be there for each other in the good times and through the hard times. To mourn with those who mourn and rejoice with those who rejoice.

True Friends

The next day....

I can't get out of bed for two hours. The seizures have me pinned down and locked down. I can't get to the medicine nor can I get to the phone. I have to lay there and shake, drift back to sleep then shake some more. What a horrible life. I hate it.

Finally I can get up. My head is very foggy. The memory is weak, the thinking is running at 40-50%, I take my meds then call Tina. We coordinate kids. I'm supposed to meet her in McHenry - I end up in Woodstock. Since I have no cellphone, I have to use the store's phone. I meet Tina at her friend's house. The journey begins. Once the task is complete, I need the boys to hang my outside Christmas lights. The older boy, Aaron, agrees to do all the driving. They hang all the lights and we head back to Woodstock. I'm not doing any driving. In fact, I'm beginning to fall asleep.

Once we're at Tina's, I go inside to lay down for a few minutes, sleep all night and wake up the next morning at 9:00. Went home at 11:15, got ready for the Barrington Children's Choir with friends then had a seizure attack in my legs while we were sitting down. Took an Ativan which helped a little but not a lot.

Saw my loving Diane and cried when I saw her. She's one friend I really miss. We hugged for a long time and I cried as I held onto her. I was with true friends and I bumped into a true friend. What is God trying to tell me?

Will You Hold Me?

It's the first year I'd saved to take my nephew and nieces shopping for the family. They had so much fun. After ward, I was driving home and had a visual seizure. I slowed way down, trying to keep my wits about me. By the time I got home, I was physically exhausted and in tears.

I called my friend and she let me spend the night. I stayed up all night again, writing and watching movies. I did not feel normal at all.

I saw Carol today, my loving therapist. I was crying so much. I asked her to hold me and she said yes. She held me close and tight. It was a long time with lots of tears flowing, lots of sounds and her rubbing my back as she spoke. She said she admired me for going through this because it's so tough.

I kept crying. I have a feeling there's a battle inside.  Do I risk going deeper where the really painful tears reside or do I let what's already been released be enough? What would you do?

Ache

Dear God,

There's an ache in my body that reminds me of the powerlessness I have over events and challenges I face. The weakness in my legs, the pain in my head, the shaking all over, the cognitive impairment, the jumbling of my words, the sadness of my soul, the brokenness of my spirit, the tearing of my heart's muscles, the imbalance when I move - all of this leads to hopelessness and fear.

Seizures in my eyes that fixate while I'm at home or while I'm driving. Seizures in my mid-section that cramp and bruise the ribs. The convulsing and twisting and stretching and pulling my body trying to get the seizure out when in reality there's nowhere for it to go. No where for it to go.

I ache. I ache for understanding. I ache to keep up the good fight. I ache for friends who will step forward and talk with me even if they don't understand. I ache for someone to listen and to love and to hold me when I cry. I ache to be set free. It's a longing to be ache-free.

Longings...Jesus longings...Heaven's longings...no more ache's...no more tears...no more pain...no more sorrow...no more pain for a useless tomorrow.

A Gentle Reminder From Your Creator.

When Emotions Are Raw

Often times when my emotions are running raw, my heart is divided. It's being pulled and stretched in different directions. There is one of two things happening. Either I'm growing or I'm being disobedient. I like to think I'm growing but there have been times when disobedience has reared its ugly head, causing more pain than was necessary.

But was it more than necessary? Sometimes I wonder if God lets us wander out into the desert so we can get full of sand, parched and thirsty for His water so we become more and more familiar with His kind of learning. So we can recognize it's attributes quicker, sooner and not so painfully.

That's my prayer for today. That the raw emotions I feel lead me to a place of obedience, not to a place in the dry desert where I wander for days uncertain of my destiny, parched and burning for certainty. Where the hope I see is not a mirage but a mirror of my Savior who is waiting for me with a cold bucket of ice water and a cold towel for my head. Shade in the form of a tent and a camel to take us home.