...who loves a safe place?

Safe places...

All of us search for them.
Sometimes we find them.

And we want to stay.
But ofttimes we can't.

Safe places may include people.
They may not.

They may be close by.
They may be far away.

Safe places may be literal places or emotional ones.
Safe places may be easy to run to or difficult to access.

We can be refreshed in our safe places.
We can be strengthened after a visit to our safe places.
We can be real in our safe places.
We can find God in our safe places.

My safe places vary but one of mine is my walk-in closet.
Strange, I know. But it's my "at-home" safe place.
There I can hide away...away from the outside world...
          and I can surround myself with things of comfort without fear of judgment.
There I can cry, pound Michael's clothes in frustration, or pray with my face to the floor...
And no one can hear me.

Another safe place for me is where I am now.
I brought my children with me and we are staying with family who have become best friends.
We have been here for a little over a week, the goal being refreshment, relaxation, and rejuvenation before we head into the memory-fraught holidays which will be closely followed by the one-year anniversary of Michael's homegoing.

These friends have known all the good, the bad, and the ugly of the past four years and I've never once felt an ounce of critical judgment from them.
Instead, they have made million-mile trips to be with us in time of crisis, they have carried us in prayer and listened to me sobbing over the phone.  They have opened their home to us many times and begged us to come here so they can take care of us for a little while.
This family is one of my safe places...

These coming weeks terrify me. The memories of Michael's rapidly failing health have already been haunting me.

So the idea of some time in my safe place seemed logical...appealing...and, well, safe.
So...here I am. This week has been wonderful!
But as with all good things, this, too, must come to an end.

Why can't we sequester ourselves eternally in our safe places?
Why doesn't God let us?

Maybe it's because if we did, we would remain focused on ourselves...
...our own needs and desires...

We would never be urged to reach outside ourselves.
We would never be able to touch the lives of those around us.
We would also never be blessed by the lives of those around us.

We must become vulnerable in order to give and receive

what each of us desires most...love.

So tomorrow, I must leave this safe place, this retreat, and head back home to my responsibilities,
my memories, my struggles, my ministries...
...my blessings! my beautiful home! my loving family members! my support group!
...my memories...of the good times...of the ways in which God has shown His care and mercy...of the love and laughs shared!

I will cry as I leave, but as much as I want to stay, I know I can't.
Because if I did, I'd never witness just how dependable my God is.
If I did, I'd never know just what I'm capable of through God's grace and strength.
If I did, I'd never experience the helpfulness of the support group God has provided for us.
If I did, I'd never be able to testify to the faithfulness of God to keep and protect, to be a Father to the fatherless and a Husband to the widow.

So I'll go. And I'll know that another time, when I need it, this safe place will be available to me again...but for a short time only.

Because that's the way it has to be until I reach that ultimate Safe Haven where Jesus Himself is the Light....where there is no pain...where there are no tears...where there is no darkness...

...and I'll NEVER EVER EVER have to leave...

Longing for that day with every fiber of my being,

...wondering just who I am?

It's happened to me again.
I was thinking I had a unique idea to explore on this blog and another blog I'm following covers that very topic the day I plan to write my post.

So here I am. Wondering again what I was thinking when I started this blog.
I have nothing new to contribute, no unique insights to share.
Solomon declares in Ecclesiastes that there is nothing new under the sun.

So. Who am I and why am I here?

It's an age-old question.
And it's been squirming, shoving, poking...making its way, unwanted, to the forefront of my mind.
We all grapple with the intricacies of this ponderous question as teens, seeking to "find ourselves" and locate the appropriate niche into which we fit.

Then there is the legendary "mid-life" crisis - when new risks are taken, new hobbies are acquired, new cars are purchased, and new careers explored.

But I believe my reasons for skirting the edges of this issue fall a bit more along these lines...

I am no longer the same person.
For 20 years, my entire being-my existence-revolved around the man I adored and wanted to please.

Now, he is experiencing his well-deserved reward, bestowed him by his beloved Jesus.
He is no longer in a position to express approval or disapproval of any action I take.
I no longer need to make my decisions based on his schedule or preferences.

In one sense, it's freeing.
In another, it's terrifying.

It's freeing because I'm learning more about my own personal preferences as they are no longer colored by his. I no longer shy away from something because he might think it immature or unnecessary. I no longer force myself to eat certain things he liked but were only tolerable to me. I am finding it's okay to now do some things he didn't find as enjoyable as I always have. I have found myself more capable than I previously thought because I have to deal with all those responsibilities he had always fulfilled. In short, for half of my life, I have run everything through the filter of pleasing Michael J. Wright...which is as it should be for a marriage to succeed.

But this is all deeply terrifying because he is no longer here to share responsibility for the outcome of decisions made. He is no longer here to offer input and wisdom and perspective to help in the making of those decisions. He is no longer here to pray with me and for me. He is no longer here to comfort me when life hits us hard. He no longer serves as the family's rudder, keeping our focus toward heaven.

And he is no longer here to speak truth to me.

He was always the one that kept me balanced. He helped me say "no" when I really needed to do so, and he helped encourage me when I thought I just couldn't get that project or task completed. He remained objective in the face of my female emotionalism...he inspired me, he challenged me...

...he pulled me with him to higher heights and believed in me.
He played a vital role in me being...me. 

So...who am I now?

Wife? No, that job was removed from my life plan on January 16, 2014.
Musician? No, I'm just your average church pianist with a voice better for blending than solos.
Artist? No, my art is truly amateurish and just dabblings from my "art therapy" sessions.
Friend? My closest friend is gone; sadly, the remaining close friends haven't gotten fair treatment.
Hostess? No, the finer points of that role escape me! Michael was always the one to suggest the parties, invite people, and carry the conversation. Plus, inviting has become challenging now that there is no "man of the house" with whom Mr. So-and-So can interact.
Chef? No, I cook for survival only - the same six & seven over and over, nothing imaginative.
Scrapbooker? (Is that a word???) No, time is now at a premium; creativity often plays "hard to get."
Children's worker? No, that role has had to be temporarily set aside for the past several years so I could focus on the needs of my family.

Mother? Yes, of four...but I'm light years away from a perfect one.  These kids know it well!
They are resilient and patient souls, though, and I love them oodles and bunches. 
Teacher? Yes, I do try. We get the core work covered, but these days extras come in rare spurts.
Writer? Yes, somewhat, but mostly for purposes of therapy. I'm definitely no Ann Voskamp!!
(Plus, many wonderful blogs are being written and thousands upon thousands of books published that far exceed anything I might concoct.)

Laundress, chauffeur, grocery shopper, manager of wardrobes and cluttered bedrooms, chauffeur, lawn maintenance crew, overseer of vehicle maintenance, chauffeur, family accountant, maid, driver's ed instructor...chauffeur, and entertainment supervisor??  Yep!!  THAT'S me.....

But is that all?
Do I do anything else of importance to the Kingdom?
Am I changing anything in this world for good?
What is my value to society?
Why am I here when my husband is in Heaven? He was making a difference daily...at work, through his email updates, at church...he touched lives everywhere he went...even the library!
What is MY purpose? Am I fulfilling it or missing it completely?

Somehow I feel there is a calling for me here...within these four walls...to my children. I seem to know that from the core of my being. It is a knowledge that has developed over time...a slow, percolating realization of the importance of the role of mother in my children's lives; and the vital way my attitude, advice, and ambition plays into the development of theirs. So, I take this job very seriously. And on some days, it demands all I have to give.

But is that enough?
Is this to be my only identity? Do I have any value, mission, or calling beyond motherhood?
Maybe not now...but maybe in the future God will lead me to some new adventure.

Maybe for now, this IS enough.

Beyond the reaches of this discussion, I possess a soul-deep assurance that
I am a Child of the King...a recipient of His amazing and unending grace!

And because of that assurance, I can trust Him.
Because of His love for me, I can trust His guidance.
Because of His love for my children, I can trust His timing.
Because of His promises, I can trust His provision.

So whether God chooses to use me today, tomorrow, or far in the future,
I must choose to rest in the knowledge that His plan is best.

Oh, the thought that Jesus loves me,
Oh that I can understand
Fills my heart with calm assurance;
I am safe inside His plan.

So I will let it change and heal me,
Let it ease my troubled mind;
Oh, the thought that Jesus loves me,
That He loves me for all time.

Oh, the thought that Jesus loves me,
And He loves what I will be
Some sweet day when He has finished
His creative work in me.

~ Wayne Haun, Lyn Rowell

Praying that God makes His will crystal clear, 

...who has felt that this life is not quite real?

It’s after 1 A.M., Tuesday, September 16, 2014. It’s been exactly eight months since I stood for an entire night beside the raised bed of my heroic husband as he struggled for each and every breath.  I never once left him for those hours but held his hand, stroked his brow, and did anything else that it seemed might bring him comfort or relief. 

It was excruciating…watching him thrash from side to side, wild-eyed and panicked because his lungs were incapable of expanding enough to take in the air he needed. One lung was completely full of tumors, the other affected by both tumors and fluid that had built up quickly over the previous days and hours. The hospice nurse assigned to us had only one patient at that point, so she too stood with us. She tried everything. Literally, everything she knew to do, she did.  She repositioned him, she cranked the oxygen as high as it would go, she tried different medication options, and she remained just as puzzled about the change in Michael as I felt. 

Earlier in the evening, I had expressed to my parents that I knew there was absolutely NO WAY I could handle what by then I understood I was facing. They held me and prayed with me before they left to try to get some sleep. 

It was then that I felt the supernatural calm that the peace of Jesus brings in time of trial. It was then that I felt the strong arms of Jesus under my own…enabling me to literally stand the rest of the night saying goodbye to my true love, holding him, comforting him the best I knew how…playing the music he loved softly in his ear…reading him notes others had sent to encourage him or honor his life in some way….Jesus kept me from shattering into tiny little pieces in those moments. He was right there with me in every moment, in every breath I took. He held me close as He carried Michael…

Michael was irrational for those darkest of hours…his words making little sense…his thoughts disjointed and jumbled…his panic real and tangible…his answers to our questions often leaving us with the distinct awareness that something was very different. He had changed over the later hours of that Wednesday…slowly losing the ability to connect with the reality of his surroundings with the sharpness that had characterized his mind just that afternoon. 

It was difficult…because I have no story of him being aware of a Presence in the room as he died, nor can I speak of last words that indicate he saw a glimpse of Heaven in those moments. But he did get a chance to formulate some “I love you’s” to his children just before dropping off into the slumber from which he would never wake, and for that I am extremely grateful. 

Why these thoughts, you ask? Why bring it all back up? No, I don’t live here in this place…this portion of my memory bank. But it’s haunting me tonight.

Maybe because it’s another monthly anniversary of those events. 
Maybe because another soul slipped into eternity a few hours ago…a friend.

Her death was a complete shock. A head-on collision on her way to work. She wasn’t even very far from home. Her husband was as work, her daughter at school, her son in a far away state going about his daily routine. Then in one instant their lives completely changed. 

It’s funny, but grief doesn’t seem to be able to be compartmentalized. It’s actually a tangled mess. And when you touch one loss and its associated grief, it’s very likely that in working through it, you will also face aspects of other losses faced.  There are no pretty little boxes for grief…loss of pet here, loss of job and identity there; loss of uncle or grandparent here, loss of spouse over there; loss of best friend here, loss of child there…no, I’ve heard grief described as a ball of tangled yarn. And when one string is pulled, the whole mess is affected. 

So, yes, today I lost a friend, and my heart aches with the pain I am sure her husband feels at this moment. And yes, I’ve agonized over how one would manage explaining such a dark tragedy to her eleven year old daughter. But I’ve also had to deal with fresh nuances of my story…my loss, and my own pain. It all feels so tangled up and confused…as though I can’t find where one ends and another begins. 

How can we go on being “normal” after experiencing such events? How can laundry, cooking, cleaning, shopping, celebrating holidays, and going to church ever be the same? 

I don’t think they should. 

I know I see things differently. This that is around me, the floor, the furniture, the plants, the noise feels so…so unreal, so temporary…like a waiting room for the real thing. Like a game I’m playing while waiting for LIFE to begin! I feel I’m in a holding pattern…just biding my time, trying to make do here until it’s my turn to join the ranks of the heavenly choir that surrounds the Throne of God, praising Him and worshipping Him for all eternity!

But why am I still here? 

I’d rather not be. This world is becoming uglier by the day. I pray often the Lord will return quickly so my children will not have to face what seems to lie ahead for them. It is so easy to fear the future…there seems to be much to fear. 

So where does that leave me? Here. With a reason. God has a plan - and He alone knows what He still needs me to do. I won’t be going home until He says it is time. So, what is my mission? I guess I’m still working on that, trying to keep my heart and mind open to His will for my every day existence on this planet. I know my first responsibility is my children. Beyond that, I’ve yet to discover why God has chosen to keep me here. 

Days and nights like these keep me reminded that whatever that purpose may be, it is of ultimate importance.

I feel that maybe this post would be a good one in which to share something I’ve written bit by bit as a result of this entire ordeal. I’m not sure exactly what it is, as it’s not particularly poetry, yet neither is it technically prose. I feel it embodies much of what was experienced other dark nights...maybe someone else has been there, too. 

One night...

...in a hospital room - 

An IV pump hums, then groans rhythmically…
Nurses whisper into the room then back out again…
Fever rises, then breaks…
The Bed is wet with sweat…
A Loved one rubs the patient's hand with gentle caresses and anxiously watches over the  patient's restless slumber while fighting off the demons of fear and worry…
The night seems to hold each in a fierce grip of loneliness… 
Peace and healing seem so far away...
Then...someone prays...someone sends a text...
Someone enters the room with a reassuring comfort that He has all under control...that He knows the situation and understands the loneliness and fear...that His resources have not run dry, that His grace is still sufficient...
That He is there...
In that hospital room...
That night. 

One night…

...at home -

An oxygen machine hums and pumps its life-giving output into a worn-out body that is struggling for every breath…
A family member drops by to check on the situation and endeavors to bring some cheer then makes their way back home…
A child timidly hugs her parent good night all the while fearing she might cause more pain...and wishing life were normal again…
Darkness surrounds, but the sights and sounds of home bring at least some measure of comfort…
Medications line the bedside table…
Pillows are fluffed to provide a bit of comfort…
A groggy spouse rubs an aching arm or back...serving the one they love the best they know how…
Sleep is pursued and sometimes not found…
The night again seems so lonely...have they been forgotten? Is anyone else awake and praying?
Once again The Lord proves faithful! 
He ministers to the weary hearts through the words of a song in the night! 
The music winds its way through the darkness to lighten loads borne and to encourage aching hearts…
He is there...
Quietly renewing strength...
In that room…
That night. 

One night…

...after the funeral. 

It's quiet now...except for the painful sobs of the one left behind…
The overpowering scent of peace lilies and carnations lingers…
All is dark except for the single strand of white lights on the ficus tree in the corner…
Every object that sits on silent watch around the room holds a story...a memory of a moment that can never be repeated…
Grief is almost palpable, flowing in torrential waves over and around its victim…
Time passes, yet still groans and sobs occasionally break forth from the exhausted soul curled up pitifully in the corner of the sofa…
Then a quiet whisper is heard..."Jesus? Have mercy...have mercy on me, Jesus...please, Jesus, hold me!"
More tears, just as intense as before...just as heart-rending…
Then a quiet calm slips into the spirit of the tortured one, and slowly...slowly the flow of liquid grief eases and breathing returns to normal… 
A sweet and precious Presence in the room seems to speak peace to an exhausted heart and mind…
A favorite Bible, peppered with highlights and handwritten notes is cradled close to the heart…
A special blanket cocoon provides warmth and comfort as eyelids grow droopy…
Finally, sleep claims the weary one...
But He stays near… 
In that room…
That night.

Then, after those darkest of moments just before dawn, morning finally comes.

...who is grateful for brighter days?

Yes. Nights can be dark. Very, very dark.

But there is another side...

After the darkest of nights the sun ALWAYS shines again. 

The light always breaks through the stormiest of clouds.

Breathing becomes easier, living becomes possible, peace becomes real, and joy attainable.

Grace is offered, strength is granted, and patience is renewed.

And this is where I live much of the time. On this other side.

Our days are filled with the silliness that exists in a household of five where four are minors...

We work together, feeling the satisfaction of performing normal duties and creating a peaceful haven of safety in our home.

We support each other through our most difficult tasks, helping where we can.

We shop together, often finding things Daddy would have liked. 

We eat out together, sometimes talking about what Daddy would have ordered.

We go places together, often remembering the last time we were there with Daddy.

We learn together, wishing Daddy were here to help us with new challenges.

We pray together, remembering Daddy's faithfulness to pray for our family and others.

We play together, enjoying some of the same activities Daddy did.

We attend church together, missing hearing Daddy sing the hymns beside us. 

We never forget. But we do not dwell on the sad moments. We cannot.

We live because Michael wanted us to. 

We live because we must. 

We live because we want to.

We remember the best of times and keep them close to our hearts.

We cherish Michael and all he was to us. 

We will never forget. 

Michael would be amazed at the strength his children have shown.

He would be proud of the maturity they have exhibited.

He would be impressed by the things we have learned, the new experiences we have enjoyed.

He would be awed by what we have accomplished individually and as a family.

And he would be aware, as we are, that all of this has come about because of the 

    wonderful, 

         amazing, 

             faithful, 

                        and 

                    unending 

                                      grace of our Father!  

I know I continue to come back to that truth, but once again, I sincerely state that it's true. 

Jesus is the reason we are who we are and where we are in this journey. I'll repeat it with conviction until the day I, too, exchange this world for the eternal one. 

And it will work for you, too! 

That same grace will be there for you when God calls you to face a difficult task!

That same strength will enable you to accomplish much more than you ever dreamed possible! 

That same faithfulness will uphold you when you face your darkest nights!

That same love will surround you when your heart is shattered and crushed!

Stay grounded in God's Word, stand firm on those promises, pray about everything, and rest....

God IS and that's all we need to know.

Reveling in the brightness of God's mercy,

P.S. Those dark nights? Well, they come around kind of often. But this song also comes to mind often and I hold on tightly to the thought that someone out there is praying me through (click link to hear song).  I know there have been many who have carried our family in prayer, and some that have even been awakened from sleep with us on their minds for prayer. If you have been a part of that team, I thank you. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you! The above post couldn't have been written without your faithfulness to follow those Spirit promptings...the brighter days would be few and far between without that support. May God bless you richly for your care and kindness! 

...who hates dark nights?

I know. 

I’m sorry.  

Here I go again…

As I begin this post, it’s late…and it’s dark.

I hate this part of the journey. 

I loved serving Michael and caring for his needs AND wants.

I loved being there for him in any way I was able. 

I admire how much my children have grown as a result of this trial and how resilient they are.

I want to be of service to others - it gives purpose to this pain.

I just hate nights like these. Maybe it’s not right that I hate them or at least strongly dislike them. I don’t know for sure. But for now, it’s where I am. 

Why do I dislike them so much? Well, maybe it’s because they seem so incredibly long…

…endless loneliness haunts me.

…tormenting pain breaks me.

…intense fear overwhelms me.

…numerous memories taunt me.

…monumental responsibility daunts me.

…multiple failures mock me.

And I don’t know what to do - so I pray, pray, PRAY!!!

And I cry until the tear reservoir empties.

And I pray some more.

And I hope someone else is praying, too, because my words fail me.

And I cry some more…

And I sit in his chair, right where his hospital bed once rested…and wrap myself in the blanket that displays my three favorite “us” pictures…and soak in the glow of the white lights on the tree in the corner of the living room; I never let them go out - because he loved them.

And I pray some more.

And I hold his Bible close, not even sure what to read, but soaking in its comfort, nonetheless.

I’ve discovered somewhat of a pattern to these darkest of nights…the kind where I fall into Michael’s shirts in the closet and cling to them, sobbing. 

The pattern seems to be that they most often occur just after I have had an opportunity to reach out to someone else in pain, to share my story of how wonderfully God has blessed my life with His perfect strength and grace, or to testify in some way of His amazing goodness…or after a wonderful outpouring of God’s presence that bathes my heart in peace and joy like we experienced this past week at camp.

It seems to be then that I feel the weakest…the most vulnerable…

I guess it’s like I’ve donned an extra large target and am yelling at the devil, “Hey!  I’m over here!  Bring it on!!!” 

It terrifies me at times to think of even trying to minister to others because I know I’m in for it if I do. But I also know that’s Satan slapping me around. I don’t want him to win; and I am very, very well aware that I cannot do this in my own strength. 

I have no idea how to be the mother and father my children need.

I have no idea how to do anything about the fact that both vans now seem to be distinctively showing their age…and some new issue arises every little bit.

I have no idea how to competently maintain a houseful of computers or fix their issues.

I have no idea how to make the best decisions regarding the longterm handling of our finances. 

I have no idea how to keep two youngsters from bickering so much - I’ve run out of emotional energy and my creativity was exhausted months ago.

I have no idea when it’s okay to be open with my emotions and when it’s more appropriate to hide them. (And I’ve bombed this one multiple times now.) 

I have no idea how to know when it’s okay to work on one of my therapeutic projects rather than getting another “to-do list” item checked off. 

I have no idea how to reach out and help others who are also in obvious deep soul pain for one reason or another…I want to, I just find it difficult to figure out how.

I have no idea what to do when my body betrays me and plays out no matter how many tasks loom before me.

But I DO know that the One Who feeds the sparrow stands right beside me!

And I DO know that His presence goes before me into the flame or flood!

And I DO know Who holds tomorrow!

And I DO know I felt His presence near and dear just a few short hours ago.

And I DO know the comfort of His everlasting arms underneath me!

And I DO know that He knows I am dust…a bruised reed…and He cares.

And I DO know that I’ll understand it better - by and by.

And I Do know that God’s mercies are new - every morning!

And I DO know that He has promised - PROMISED - to…well, let’s just read it together…

“Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.” (Isa. 41:10)

“And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.” (2 Cor. 12:9)

“It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness.” (Lam. 3:22-23)

“Be strong and of a good courage, fear not, nor be afraid of them: for the Lord thy God, he it is that doth go with thee; he will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.” (Deut. 31:6)

“Wait on the Lord: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the Lord.” (Ps. 27:14)

This passage reminds me why I need to accept these dark times as also allowed by the hand of the Father:

“It is better to go to a house of mourning

Than to go to a house of feasting,

Because that is the end of every man,

And the living takes it to heart.

“In the day of prosperity be happy,

But in the day of adversity consider—

God has made the one as well as the other

So that man will not discover anything that will be after him.”

(Ecc. 7: 2, 14)

God keeps my priorities in focus through this grief. 

He reminds me daily that my focus goal is not even IN this world, only in the next.  

He reminds me of my God-given mission: taking my children with me to Heaven.

He reminds me that reaching out to others is more important than a clean kitchen floor.

He reminds me that prayer should be a constant in my life.

He reminds me that this life was never meant to be comfortable.

He reminds me that any strength or courage I have comes from Him.

He reminds me that I am completely dependent on Him for wisdom.

He reminds me that this is a marathon, not a sprint.

I understand…that this, too, shall pass.

Life will go on…even if I don’t know how.

And Jesus gives me reason to smile in spite of the darkest of these nights.

1. "He giveth more grace as our burdens grow greater,
   He sendeth more strength as our labors increase;
   To added afflictions He addeth His mercy,
   To multiplied trials He multiplies peace.
2. "When we have exhausted our store of endurance,
   When our strength has failed ere the day is half done,
   When we reach the end of our hoarded resources
   Our Father’s full giving is only begun.
3. "Fear not that thy need shall exceed His provision,
   Our God ever yearns His resources to share;
   Lean hard on the arm everlasting, availing;
   The Father both thee and thy load will upbear.
4. "His love has no limits, His grace has no measure,
   His power no boundary known unto men;
   For out of His infinite riches in Jesus
   He giveth, and giveth, and giveth again."
5. Annie J. Flint

...who sees "it" coming?

It's coming.

I can't avoid facing it much longer.
The sun doesn't realize it shouldn't shine that day.
The clock doesn't seem to realize that it's supposed to slow down and allow me more time.
More time to prepare...to decide just how the day should be spent.
More time to wrap my mind around its significance and the emotion of what it represents.

It's coming...and coming only once. 

Just like my wedding day and many other uniquely personal days in my life, this one can not be repeated. So my actions on this day should reflect it's specialness...shouldn't they?

But there's much pressure in that thought.
Maybe I should just go with the "flow" of wherever my emotions take me that day.
On second thought, my emotions can be pretty unpredictable, so I should probably have some sort of plan formulated.

It's coming...and I don't want it to. 

I don't want to acknowledge that my dearest friend on earth has now been with his Heavenly Father for six months...
           ...enjoying peace, rest, worship, and bliss...
                 
...while I beat my head against the impossible wall of fulfilling my new level of responsibility alone.

I don't want to have to say I'm doing okay without him.
Because of Jesus, and by His grace and strength alone, we are doing okay, really.
But I don't WANT to be doing okay...because it means another level of difficult release...

...an acknowledgement that the world indeed does go on revolving and orbiting without Michael J. Wright occupying a portion of its surface.

Tears are flowing as I type this. It is so painfully real to me at this moment that I don't WANT life to continue without him!  I want to cling to all he was and (in many ways) still IS to me and the children. I don't want to continue this "new" life without him in it!

I don't want to forget...I don't want anyone else to forget!

There are times when I feel that others have forgotten...that they have pushed thoughts of him aside and are functioning as though Michael never existed. Maybe they are endeavoring to avoid pain through this tactic. Or maybe they think they are lessening my pain by not mentioning his name in my presence. But I fight the feeling that somehow the value of his life is lessened because his impact on their lives was so easily tossed aside and shelved.  How can they not talk about him??

But I digress...

It's coming.  And I can't deny its affect on me.

I guess I'm looking forward to the day with as much dread as I did our wedding day with joy.
It has haunted the edges of my consciousness for several weeks now.

It's not "fair" that on July 16, 2014, I should be
             celebrating my twentieth wedding anniversary and...can't...

...while so many in society around us are breezily tossing their marriages to the wind.

It's not "fair" that I am standing alone in this...facing this important marker of time passed, memories made, lives built, and hearts melded.
But this is one of those things I have to do alone.
Since I can't celebrate the day with the one with whom I shared the relationship,
                  then I'll have to do it alone.

The plans for this year's anniversary were special.
Those tentatively laid plans included something we had never done before.
We hoped that, at the very least, the day would prove to be different than last year's anniversary where we got take-out from the Cheesecake Factory and ate it while seated in a hospital room surrounded by visitors. (Not that we minded the visitors, it just wasn't exactly the picture an average couple would pin under the word "romantic.")

But the week of the cruise we dreamed of taking to mark this monumental year, and two days before the special date night (including limo, private table, and flowers) planned by Michael and the hospice nurse, Michael took his amazing trip into the arms of Jesus instead!

Another dream dashed to the ground and splintered into a bazillion pieces.
More tentative hopes sent sailing into the land of "Never Gonna Happen..."

And yes, I know that those statements are strictly and selfishly about me.

"You wouldn't wish him back, now, would you???"
"He's in a much better place...no pain, no sorrow, no tears..."

Yup.  I know. Really, I know.  I think a lot about Heaven these days.
Sometimes it feels more real to me than this crazy old world.
I know I should be grateful that Michael is no longer suffering, and I am! Really, I am...
I know I should not wish him back, and I don't...not with cancer!
But please...don't judge me for wishing him back with me but in good health!

We promised each other, twenty years ago, that we'd share this walk together...that we would be true to each other...that we would cherish each other till death do us part.

It just wasn't supposed to part us now. It was supposed to happen after the kids were all grown.
It was supposed to happen after the arrival of a passel of grandchildren.
It was supposed to happen after we got the chance to spend our golden years together...watching numerous gorgeous sunsets while sipping coffee and reminiscing about the "good ol' days..."

It was supposed to only happen after experiencing more of the bliss we shared his last few months...

But God decided otherwise.

It's coming...and I've got to make the best of it!

Since GOD decided to take Michael home on January 16, 2014, 

and since GOD decided to keep me here a little while longer, 

and since GOD knew about every bit of this from the beginning, 

and since GOD has shown me His fingerprints in all this time and again...

   ...I'll trust Him.

I'll trust Him to lead me into the days ahead. 

I'll trust Him to help me face this next emotional volcano.

I'll trust Him to guide me even in my activities for this special day.

I'll trust Him to know my heart and bring healing to my soul through this time of remembrance.

I'll trust Him to enable me to focus on the best and brightest moments of our lives together.

I'll trust Him to guard my heart against renewed attacks of doubt, fear, and intimidation.

I'll trust Him to fulfill His promises to keep my heart and mind with peace through Christ Jesus.

I'll trust Him to teach me how to live again...with a healing broken heart.

So, I'll pack my trusty camera and my overnight bag, and I'll disappear for twenty-four hours. 

I'll visit some places where precious memories were made and where two people learned the lessons of navigating this journey of life...in the same boat!

I'll take time to focus on remembering...

       ...and feeling...

             ...and honoring what was...

                      ...and thanking God for the beautiful gift of 19.5 years...

I will do what I do on July 16, 2014, out of love for my husband and respect for our past.
I will come back home and live life fully out of love for my children and hope for our future.

I know that God will be there...and real...and faithful...and good.
Because He has been already.

Many were privileged to know Michael J. Wright and call him "family" or "friend."

But only one bore the honor of being his wife.

I have truly been blessed.

And that is the fact on which my focus shall remain.

"But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus."

    ~ Philippians 4:19

"And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus."       ~ Philippians 4:7

"The Lord will give strength unto his people; the Lord will bless his people with peace."

     ~ Psalm 29:11

Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth

Thine own dear presence to cheer and to guide;

Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow,

Blessings all mine, with ten thousand beside!

Great is Thy faithfulness!

Great is Thy faithfulness!

Morning by morning new mercies I see.

All I have needed Thy hand hath provided;

Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me!

     ~Thomas O. Chisholm

"The Lord sustains all who fall and raises up all who are bowed down...the Lord is near to all who call upon Him, to all who call upon Him in truth...He will also hear their cry and will save them...He supports the fatherless and the widow...He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds..."

     ~ selected from Psalms 145-147

"God makes a home for the lonely..."

     ~ Psalm 68:6

Wow. Just....wow...

... longing for "someday?"

Warning:  Raw and emotional material ahead. Read at your own risk.

Okay.  Here I sit at the keyboard. I haven't written anything in a long time. It's not that I haven't had topics come to mind. It's not that I've lacked for material.

I have avoided blogging because of a particular fear.

Most likely a stupid one, but a fear nonetheless.

I do NOT want to whine, gripe, complain, moan, groan, or otherwise have a pity party either on this blog or on Facebook.

I AM endeavoring, however, to be realistic and share things on my heart and mind to give others a window into the life I now live so that they can 1) feel more comfortable around me or others who have faced a similar situation, and 2) know better how to pray and care for widows and their families.

Plus, creating some sort of structure out of the chaos of my brain is extremely therapeutic for me.

The emotions swirling around in my head at this very moment are varied and intense. That is often the case. And just as often, I hide these things in the deepest cracks and crevices of my person so that they don't overflow onto and unduly burden those around me.

Why? Because I know this...
Life isn't all about me. My pain. My problems. My grief. My memories. My desires. My reality.

Living for Jesus demands the surrender of this desire for life to BE all about me.

But sometimes the right choices are the most difficult.
And sometimes I realize the deep need I have for the patient help of my sweet Jesus in this area.

I. can. not. do. this. alone.

i often ache under the weight of the new responsibilities that are mine
i often fight hand-to-hand combat with a feeling of inadequacy for this new role
i often struggle valiantly to keep frustrated tears at bay because something ELSE has fallen apart
i often face a deep dread of familiar places because of the memories that crash over me while there
i often grapple with understanding why so many seem uncomfortable when i speak of my husband
i often deal with intense fear of the uncharted territory facing me in that moment
i often writhe in the anguish of intense loneliness for my soul mate

because...

where can i go now with my deepest, darkest secrets when i need to de-brief and download?
where can i turn for help when the hard drive crashes on my biggest and best computer?
where can i obtain advice for dealing with tricky family relationships?
where can i find direction as i stumble through the grief-induced fog controlling my mind?
where can i gain the wisdom, steady calm, and insight that was my children's father?
where can i feel the wind beneath my wings that was my husband?
where can i crash and truly be me without fear of judgement or rejection?

please. i know full well the answer that springs to everyone's mind as they read this.
believe me, i know.
and i also know the guilt i feel because i long for a human being to be here...with me...bridging the chasm left behind by the one person on the planet who influenced every decision i made for over twenty years.

i know Jesus has promised to be a father to the fatherless and a husband to the widow.
and i believe He will. i do.
because i know Who God is. because i know what He's done for me already.
and i'm not in the least bit ungrateful.

but i'm not exactly sure how that part works...
and i still long for someone "with skin on-"
who knows me inside and out and loves me anyway;
who can hold me close and calm my fears with gentle caresses;
who can sip a cup of coffee and share the beauty of a sunset with me;
who can be the other half of this parenting team and balance out my indecisive nature...

no. that doesn't sound super-spiritual, does it? nor does it make people comfortable.
but there isn't much about widowhood that i would call comfortable.
especially not with four precious children involved. they need me. every day.

and yes. i know there are many who can and would try to help where and when they can.
but they have to tend to their own lives. their own responsibilities. their own children.
their own spouses.........
they can't abandon their duties for mine.

see? this is truly my very own burden to bear.
no person can do this for me.
or with me.
except on a very temporary basis.
and then they are gone again.
doing what they must.

i know they must go.
i can't hold them here forever.


and that's life.
life in a tough, dark, harsh, but temporary world.


things will change someday.
God has promised.
and God keeps His promises.
i know He does.

one golden sun-streaked morning will be our last here on this planet.
we will take our last breath in this atmosphere and our first in heavenly realms.
all will be set right in the land without darkness or pain.

Jesus. Jesus will be there.
and i hope He will hold me close...
i want to thank Him...
          ...for His intense love for me, for mankind.
                   ...for His faithfulness to me, to my family.
                             ...for His patience with me, with my pain.
                                        ...for never giving up on me...

that's someday.


but for now, well, life hurts. just....hurts. more than i can bear...

there. you stuck with it. not pretty, is it? i'm sorry.
was that complaining? probably.
feeling sorry for myself? some would say so.
whining? maybe.
being realistic? definitely.

there's no pretending this doesn't hurt.
i can't pretend my best friend didn't exist and drastically shape my life.
there's no denying the gash in the fabric of our lives now that he's gone.

but do you see??? part of my healing and processing is doing just this...
naming the struggles and the pain in a safe setting and in doing so, facing them head on.
feeling it. all of it.
dealing with it.
now...when my children are asleep and no one needs me to be strong...
letting the emotion of the moment rush over me and surround me...


then the tidal wave recedes and there is a lull in the storm
i catch my breath and pick up the leftover pieces of my battered heart.
i hold them up to Jesus and ask for mercy and healing.
He gently calms my spirit and asks me to trust again.
i remember all that has come before and know He is worthy of that trust.

then...

i rest, knowing that the battle begins again as soon as the sun comes up in the morning...

Please note:
Every day, the amazing blessings of God on our lives are acknowledged in our household.
Every day, the needed grace and strength to fulfill the most important tasks is received as promised.
Every day, the faithfulness of my wonderful heavenly Father ends up in some form of testimony.
Every day, the sure knowledge that God will be with us in any challenges enables us to go on.
Every day, the support team with which we have been blessed continues to pray and care.

And I do my best to use each moment I've been gifted in a productive way.
I strive to keep the perspective that life, indeed, is NOT all about me, but instead, all about HIM.
So never fear, I'm not some helpless bowl of jello that needs immediate psychological intervention.
I'm just a normal mother who happens to also be a widow.
This blog post happens to be one outlet for processing that serves as a steam valve - thus keeping me from overflowing onto and burdening my precious children. Also, in order to reach out to and care for other hurting souls, I must in some way disarm my own pain time-bomb so that there is room to absorb some of their pain which results in the true compassion Christ calls us to.
Thank you for understanding.
May God reward you for your kindness to our family and your patience with me!