It's March 20....

It’s March 20…

The mention of that date brings with it so many memories and so much emotion. 

Yes, I’m back. 

I know, I know…it’s been a long time. 

There has been much emotional “water under the bridge” since my last post.

But I’ve not forgotten about the blog nor have I completely ignored it. 

In fact, I wrote an entire post in which I endeavored to describe what I experienced over the months of December and January. But I lost it. 

And the energy to recreate it was…well, nonexistent. 

Nor could I remember a thing I had written. 

So, I didn’t write…

I didn’t write about our first Christmas without Michael.

I didn’t write about the New Year.

I didn’t write about the one year anniversary of Michael’s death.

I didn’t write about my birthday or Valentine’s Day that followed shortly thereafter.

I’m not sure what was expected of me, but if I were to write about anything, I supposed my readers might expect me to write about those events. I think I even expected it of myself. 

But I didn’t. I didn’t do what was expected. I couldn’t. The well was dry. 

That particular emotional journey was such a difficult and private one I had no words with which to adequately describe it. 

And again, at this moment, emotion is running high. 

The fear tries to sweep over me again…the fear I felt on this day five long years ago as we began to realize this was no ordinary situation…no quick-fix scenario. 

I will never forget seeing Michael being carried in by two men unknown to us. 

…the way he so bravely tried to mask his intense pain so he wouldn’t frighten the kids.

…the drive to the hospital.

…the cold, dreary weather, the snow on the ground.

…the beginning of the saga that was to become “our story.”

My watch broke that day. 

Now you’d think that a little thing at first mention, wouldn’t you? 

But for me, it was a symbol…

You see, Michael bought me that watch. 

He had purchased it on a random whim as he made one of his regular treks around Oak Park Mall the winter of ’09-‘10. He loved to exercise a bit on his lunch break, and in inclement weather, the mall served as an interesting place to walk. One day he saw the sale, then the watch. And he chose it for me, then presented it to me “just because.” 

Then on the day and in the place his leg broke, so did my watch.

It became very important to me to get that watch repaired. 

So, when my sister-in-law asked how she could help, I mentioned the watch. 

She quickly agreed to get it fixed and back to me, and she did just that.

We could fix the watch.

And we tried to fix Michael. 

He had the amputation surgery to remove the invading cancer, 

and he received chemotherapy to ward off new tumor growth…

And as Michael’s journey continued, I wore the watch…almost every day.

But then it began to lose time. 

At first it was barely noticeable. 

And I thought maybe it was my fault.

You see, it was the kind where physical movement of the watch served to “wind” the watch. 

So, I just assumed I wasn’t moving it enough.

But it didn't get better.

Rather, it slowly got worse…until finally the hands would no longer move at all.

Early on, the tumors in Michael’s lungs were very, very small. 

Barely detectable. 

And we thought maybe it was our fault…because we chose to forgo a portion of the original recommended chemo regimen.

But as the tumors grew, and we were forced to go back to the chemo treatments, we were told it was likely we could do little to stop them. 

We could only slow them down.

The jeweler said the watch wasn’t worth what it would take to fix it. 

I wore no watch at all for a long time. 

My watch was broken. 

My husband was physically broken.

My family was heart-broken.

My marriage was almost broken.

My world had been shattered.

It may be somewhat shocking to some of you to read those words. 

But the devil fought hard, and none of us escaped his wrath.

When it was obvious he couldn’t have Michael, 

he blasted me with depression and near panic attacks.

Then when God began to rescue me, Satan blasted our marriage. 

Days were dark. Nights were even darker.

But God reached down in His infinite mercy, 

and with precious grace and patience, 

helped us put our “us” back together again. 

God granted us a special gift…an amazingly sweet and precious five months of soul intimacy just before Michael died - the best months of our entire marriage! 

The devil was defeated once again! 

I remain immensely grateful for this time and will forever praise the Lord for it!

December, 2013 - the month was extremely difficult…

Michael was slipping away from us rapidly…but God gave us Christmas!

And, though heart-wrenching, what a precious Christmas it was!

Not too many days before the holiday arrived, I came upon Michael on his hospital bed there in the living room…the laptop was open, as was often the case. 

But this time, he was shopping…

Guess what he had found? 

A beautiful watch with interchangeable bands in a variety of colors! 

He was so excited with his discovery! (He’s never been good at keeping surprises a secret!) 

So after getting my stamp of approval on the watch, he ordered it for me for Christmas. 

We kept it under the tree until our official family Christmas, but I was thrilled with the gift. 

Because he had remembered.

Because it was a gift from his heart.

Because to me, it was a sign that for “us,” all was well.

And I knew it would quite possibly be the last such gift…

I have worn this watch every day since then (except for one visit it made to the “shop”). 

I wore only the black band for quite some time as a silent testament to my mourning.

Then I began to enjoy wearing it as it was meant to be worn…as Michael wanted me to.

I enjoy the variety and the colors…and the remembrance of the precious, kind, thoughtful man who gave me not only the gift of time, 

                    but also the gift of his life, his laughter, and his love….

…the man who spent the rest of his life with me, Michael Jay Wright!

On this, the 20th day of March in the year 2015, 

…once again, I remember…

Scriptures and quotes that ministered to me 
during Michael's amputation surgery, March 25, 2010:

He gives strength to those who are tired
    and more power to those who are weak.

But the people who trust the Lord will become strong again.
They will rise up as an eagle in the sky;
    they will run and not need rest;
    they will walk and not become tired.

                                 ~ Isaiah 40:29, 31

God is our protection and our strength.

    He always helps in times of trouble.

The Lord All-Powerful is with us;

    the God of Jacob is our defender. 

~Psalm 46:1, 11

I believe in the sun, even though it doesn't shine,

I believe in love, even when it isn't shown,

I believe in God, even when He doesn't speak.

The Lord hears good people when they cry out to him,

    and he saves them from all their troubles.

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted,

   and he saves those whose spirits have been crushed.

                                                        ~Psalm 34:17-18

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. 

God is the Father who is full of mercy and all comfort. 

He comforts us every time we have trouble, so when others have trouble, 

we can comfort them with the same comfort God gives us.

~ 2 Corinthians 1:3-4

The God who spoke still speaks...

The God who came still comes.

He comes into our world.

He comes into your world.

He comes to do what you can't.

(from God's Promises for You by Max Lucado)

...who enjoys fortune cookies?

We were treated to a special dinner with friends and family Saturday evening. I was humbled and honored to have been invited by the sweet and generous couple who hosted the event. They have been so kind to our family this past couple of years. The dinner was at a local Chinese buffet and the food was absolutely delicious! I even tried a couple of new things!

But the traditional fortune cookies prompted some interesting thoughts...so I thought I'd divert a little from my usual posting style and share these thoughts with you.

I like this little saying. I'm not sure I understand all its implications yet, but I'm beginning to. I think it's saying something like this: Feelings run deep...and often they are inseparable from others that run just as deeply.   And if you stop and think for a moment, isn't each feeling based on some idea we have about our surroundings? It may be our physical surroundings, relationship surroundings, emotional surroundings, or virtual surroundings, and sometimes it involves more than one of these areas simultaneously.  And these ideas don't remain objective because we begin to feel something soon after the idea occurs to us.

But what happens if we get the wrong idea - maybe through a misunderstanding or misinterpretation? What then? Doesn't it follow that our feelings may be wrong as well?  So often, I've seen evidence in my newsfeed on Facebook that someone is facing the fallout of a wrong idea which has led to difficult emotions. Why do we do this to ourselves? I have seen such behavior cause relationships to be severely damaged. I have seen churches put through agonizing splits. I have seen organizations slandered and reputations smirched. I have seen bitterness toward all things holiness or all things God.

What is left if hope in God has been stripped away through misunderstandings? What a horrible way that would be to live!

So what is the solution? Search for the TRUTH in all situations. Most importantly, search for God's truth. When that becomes our focus, we can cut through all the junk that gets thrown at us in life and we can get to the point where no matter what any one person says, we rest solidly on the truth - the knowledge that humans ARE imperfect, we will ALL make mistakes, we are ALL loved insanely by our amazing Heavenly Father, and since He offers US so much grace we owe that same grace to everyone we meet.

What do YOU think?

I like this one...only I will have to admit, I rarely pick up the phone and call anyone else unless it's business related. It must be a personality bug with which I was created because I've never been one to call people very often with the exception of my husband. I love to GET phone calls from people who feel prompted to call and say hello - because I know I'm talking to them when it's a good time for them...and I know they WANT to talk to me. And just as this fortune states, a call from a good friend often eases my mind and lifts my spirits. There's something about connecting with someone who truly cares that seeps deeply into the soul and helps with the healing process. I consider these moments God hugs...because God created us as social beings, even us introverts!  We, too, need real, solid, and true friendships in order to survive all this old world throws at us. 

Would you agree?

 Along a similar line as the last fortune, this one also refers to kindness from a friend. Have you ever experienced one of those moments where someone you highly respect takes a moment to say a kind word to you? Isn't it true that you can emotionally just feast on that for a good long while?  On the flip side of this, harsh and cutting words also affect us deeply and sometimes for a much longer period of time. So maybe this fortune can serve as a reminder - or a thumb in our backs - to take time to share that kind thought you had about someone...they aren't mind readers, after all! We have to actually share in order for them to know how we feel!  This reminds me of a discussion Michael and I had often. We both felt strongly that our children need to hear from us how valuable they are to God and to us. They need to know we love them and treasure them beyond explanation. We also need to go beyond our own families and share with our co-workers, extended family, church members, and friends that they, too, make a positive difference in our lives! Someone has called this "giving roses before they are gone." We agreed that this practice was part of what God intended the church to be! We are commanded to build each other up. How often do we do so?

"Therefore encourage one another and build each other up as you are already doing."

1 Thessalonians 5:11

I can remember distinctly just how blessed we were when so many took time to write notes, stop by, or call Michael during that last month of his life. Most, if not all, stepped out of their comfort zones enough to actually tell Michael how much he meant to them. What a blessing it was for him, but also our children and for me...I got to see anew how loved and valued he was and what a difference he had made in the lives of others! Thank you to all who gave those "roses" to my sweet husband....

Any thoughts?

There is much truth in this little saying. What would we learn if never faced with difficulty? How much would we depend on God? How would our character develop? Why would we ever need each other? God may not send trouble our way, but in His great and perfect wisdom He does allow it in order to bring us closer to His original design for us...Christ-likeness. So does this cause me to be thankful for my trials? Well, it's a bit tough to say I'm thankful FOR my husband's death...I'm not there quite yet. But I CAN say I'm thankful for what God is doing IN my difficulty. I've learned much about seeing His hand at work, about listening closely to His voice, about leaning on His everlasting arms, about trusting in the dark...and I am at the point where I can say I treasure these lessons. And I don't want to go back to the pettiness I see in my former self...to the immaturity I often exhibited...to the extremely unskilled "sailor" I was. I know I'm far, far away from having learned it all, but I can testify to having made great strides in positive directions over the last four years. And I believe my closest of friends would agree...

What about you? Can you see changes you've made as a result of choppy seas in your life?

Aaaaaand this one just struck us funny!!!  Isn't this statement a generality in itself? But oh, how true it is!!! We often make sweeping, all-inclusive statements - "blanket" statements, if you will - that cannot be proven true across the board. Again, I've witnessed damage being done in this manner - the most terrifying being strong and harsh statements against all of God's ministers of the Gospel because of one particular situation. Yet all get painted and thus tainted with the same broad brush. So maybe this little fortune can serve as a somewhat humorous reminder to take care with our words and endeavor to always be truthfully specific in our daily conversations. After all, our children are watching...and listening...VERY closely.

Wouldn't you agree?

One last picture for this post....the flowers on Michael's grave after last night's snow....

...Because I'm doing a lot of remembering...

Grateful for all of you who take time to read my random ramblings,

...who has felt the stone?

We've finally reached the other side of Christmas. It's the 27th, and even though there are still some extended family celebrations planned, the main events are now part of our family's history.

I took few pictures. (I even forgot the video camera for the church Christmas program.) I'm usually quite the shutterbug, so this was unusual for me. I'm not sure what was wrong. It's as though I felt recording the events would in some way be recording the pain as well. Strange, I know. But it's what was.

I felt disconnected from much of what was going on. Survival seemed to be the ultimate goal rather than enjoyment. Christmas Day felt no different from December 29th. It was another day to get up, perform my duties as mother, to survive... Strange, maybe, but it's what was.

I dreaded the special holiday because of the emotion it normally evokes. I dreaded the memories of last year's Christmas which seem to be trumping all other memories. I knew it would all be different, feel differently, affect me differently...I was expecting that. What I guess I didn't expect is the horrible loneliness, the ache, the deep gnawing sense of grief that came back for so much of the month of December. For quite some time, I had been able to say I had more good days than bad. Not in December. It has been dreadful. I suppose more of this is due to the approaching one year anniversary of Michael's death rather than Christmas itself. There have been many moments in which I've honestly thought a mental breakdown will be arriving before January 17th does. Strange? Probably, but it's what was.

I listened to Christmas music, yes.  But not "our" songs. I couldn't bring myself to do so. It was too tender a place in which to venture. Sometimes grief processing requires me to surround myself with all things Michael...other times the pain is so deep that I am completely unable to "touch" them. Strange? Most likely. But it's what was. 

I pray my children survive without any lasting damage...I've done my best to separate my pain from their performance or behavior and continue to let them know how much I adore them. And I worked my hardest to make sure Christmas could be as special as it's ever been for them. But I've checked out more this month as a parent than in a long while. There has definitely been overspending in the "dining out" portion of the budget. That does not make me proud. Michael wouldn't have wanted to eat out that much. So it bothers me. But I've had to do it some days just to survive with our family relationships all still intact. Strange? I don't think so, but for sure, it's what was.

There have been some extremely precious moments this Christmas. And I do my best to not lose sight of them. They are special, sweet reminders that God is still loving on us. He has not forgotten us in the pain. 

I have felt deep connections with my children as tears have coursed down our cheeks. 

I have sensed the Lord's help and sweet presence in the writing and recording of a special song. 

We have been wrapped in love by the generosity of a youth group and the wonderful gifts they carefully chose, packaged, and sent to us; generous gifts from family; and some delightful packages from one of Michael's former bosses. 

We were carried through the busyness of the church Christmas program with strength and health and (somewhat) clear minds. 

We were encouraged by conversations and sweet notes from family and friends who let us know they were carrying us in prayer faithfully. 

We were blessed with quick recovery from the illness that finally caught up with us this week.

Yesterday, I was stunned to receive a cashier's check for a very generous amount...from my "Guardian Angel!" It humbled me. It shook me to my core. No, I've not worried, per se, but I've felt a few fleeting moments of panic at how quickly the money was flying out of our account here at the end of the year.  

But receiving this today revealed to my bruised reed of a heart that my God was not just answering prayers for Michael - He is also answering prayers for me! I am loved! Truly loved and cared for by an amazing and all-sufficient Savior! In fact, I would have to say I'm truly spoiled! He has supplied every need!!! And so many of our desires as well!! Praise be to the One true God Who fulfills as His promises! 

I cling to those promises. I depend on those promises! I live and breathe those promises for provision, care, strength, and grace!

Why?

Because I'm experiencing this new level of grief...it's not the same outburst of strong emotion, pound the pillow, scream till my throat is raw kind of grief. That kind comes, flows over me, then passes leaving me exhausted, but able to face the next day with some measure of sanity. 

This is different. 

It has crept in and around me, swallowing me whole. It is a deep down, soul bruising, bruised reed trampling, dark tunnel, bone-ache, physical weight kind of grief. That's the best I can do at describing it. It has commandeered my life for days now. And it's only grown worse. 

"Grief, according to him, was like a large stone tied to your heart. 

Grief is a feeling you carry inside, a heaviness of spirit. 

Mourning, on the other hand, is best described as putting the grief on the outside. 

Mourning is the public expression of grief."

~ from Life after the Death of My Son, Dennis Apple

That's it. It's a stone...a boulder, if you will, tied tightly around my heart. And it goes with me everywhere...even into my dreams. Mourning - that outward sign of the grief - comes and goes. 

As I heard another, "sometimes you just have to keep living until you can feel alive again."

So, this post wasn't terribly profound, nor was it exquisitely written, but at this point I'm beyond endeavoring to impress. It just is what it is...

In celebration of Michael's love of God's creative design in sunsets as well as his solid and visible testimony to the faithfulness of that same God, I created a calendar for the new year to give as gifts. I wanted to share the photos with you all.

Each month's photo was taken in that same month in 2013; and each Scripture was one Michael highlighted or marked in his favorite Bible. 

Best wishes for blessings on your new year!

I pray you are encouraged as you enjoy these photos
and read the Scriptures...

P. S. I'm not a watermark fan from the standpoint that I'm not trying to promote any business nor draw unnecessary attention to my very amateurish photography, but it has been pointed out that it would be prudent to protect the photos in some manner. Thus, the addition of the watermarks. Thank you for your understanding.

...remembering??

It's late again. It seems that's when I usually get around to writing these things.

This time, I'm in the living room by the lit Christmas tree. I've overridden the timer so it will stay on tonight. I can't stand complete darkness right now.

Christmas music is playing very softly from www.HolinessMusic.com...Michael's favorite music (Christmas) using his favorite technology (internet) through the avenue of his own creation (the internet music station).

I've succeeded in keeping myself distracted most of the day. But now those distractions must cease...I must try to sleep. But in the void of this quiet night, the memories rush in to take control of my emotions and sleep becomes unattainable.

I sit in the location of the hospital bed procured one year ago today -
Monday, December 9, 2013.

It was one of the most dreadful days of this ordeal.

I resisted the invasion of hospice into the sanctuary of my home.
I resisted the admission that Michael had reached the point where hospice was necessary.
I resisted the acknowledgement that he would never sleep in his own bed again.
I resisted the commanding presence of the clinical hospital bed in my living room.

I knew it had to be. Yet with everything in me, I pushed it away.

Family members came to see us. They interacted with the children and we all tried to grapple with the new development.

Friends stopped by. They brought with them a generous offering that had been taken for our family just the night before. By the time they arrived, I was about as close to "basket-case" status as I could be and still be in "public." Instead of condemning, they quietly checked on me, too, giving a hug, sharing tears, understanding my fears...

It felt we were now a spectacle in some ways. I know that wasn't anyone's intent, but in my state of emotional panic, I didn't want our living room, my peaceful sanctuary, to become a display case or a commons where any and all could come and go at will. Maybe those thoughts were due to my introverted nature, maybe not. Maybe it was that I felt our "safe place" was being ripped away from us. I felt desperate to claim something as my own personal space where no one could intrude.

I distinctly remember the panic I felt...the deep-seated fear that gripped my heart.
It was NOT time to give up!!! I couldn't lose him so soon!!!  We had just gotten this whole true love in marriage thing really and truly figured out!! All we thought we knew the day we joined hearts and hands in marriage became tested and tried, purified and real and we finally had a grasp of what true unity of heart means. We had been through so much together...and I didn't want to face the next steps in this journey without my companion.

I'm not sure at what point I finally calmed down.

To make that day a bit easier for the children, we gave them an early Christmas present - their "Daddy" blankets. They immediately fell in love with them, and have used them almost every day since.

So here I am. It's been a year since that day.
I've scurried around Christmas shopping, ornament decorating, gift creating, list making, program preparing, cleaning, schooling, remembering...stressing...remembering more.

I'm no busier than any other mom this season. I am just finding my tolerance for stress greatly decreased. It breaks me much more quickly than before. So as the memories rush all around me every day as I do my best to continue fulfilling my duties, my heart feels battered and bruised. My "nerves" are edgy and strung tightly.

And I just want to hide in a hole. I feel like hibernating until spring. I don't want to face all that the days ahead flaunt in my face. January 16 is looming in the distance, too. I don't WANT to have made it a year without Michael.  In some ways, I don't WANT to be okay.  I need him!!!

But my God is still here - beckoning me to keep trying to "live until I can feel alive again."
He keeps whispering in my heart that these precious children need me to be what Michael can no longer be for them - an active parent, stability, and support.
And the coolest part? He keeps giving me what I need to fulfill that role!!!  I worry at times that I ask too often and beg too much of my dear heavenly Father...but I also know that there is really no way that I can accomplish one task without Him!

The devil wants me to get so focused on my own emotional journey and grief that I cannot accomplish any Kingdom good. And sometimes he comes extremely close to succeeding. Then Jesus reminds me of others who are carrying heavy loads, grieving lost loved ones, finding the world cruel, and needing a word of encouragement, a prayer for peace and strength...and the way becomes clear before me again.

Nothing is accomplished through self-pity.

So once again, I will feel these emotions thoroughly.
I will journal and blog.
I will process them, then lay them down and move on - because God asks it of me, and my children need this of me.
But it won't be in my own strength. God alone gives me breath and life. He alone can help me find the other side of this tunnel. He has been so preciously patient and near to me. I can never adequately express my love for Him...

But He said to me, 

"My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness." 

Therefore, I will most gladly boast all the more about my weaknesses, 

so that Christ's power may reside in me. 

~~ 2 Corinthians 12:9

Many times I'm tried and tested 
As I travel day by day 
Oft I meet with pain and sorrow 
And there's trouble in the way. 
But I have a sweet assurance 
That my soul the Lord will lead 
And in Him there is strength for every need. 

O, His grace is sufficient for me. 
And His love is abundant and free. 
And what joy fills my soul, 
Just to know, just to know 
That His grace is sufficient for me. 

-Mosie Lister (christiansongoftheday.blogspot.com)

I know it will be there when I need it...that grace is boundless. So I'll rest now with the promise of Jesus's tender care forefront in my heart and mind. 

And I'll attend the brass concert Tuesday evening (December 9, 2014) expecting to shed a few tears, yes, but also fully intending to enjoy it as thoroughly as I always did with Michael by my side!!

After all, isn't HE hearing the most amazing music of all???

Remembering, yet resting in the promises,

...who is still awake?

It's the night before Thanksgiving and all through the house,
    (it's late...more like the early morning hours of Thanksgiving Day...)
Not a creature is stirring, not even a mouse.
    (I'm up. Shouldn't be, but I am.)

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, 

   (well, actually, the Christmas trees are up, and a few other things are out, but no stocking as of yet...we got back from a week away last night, worked on decorating today, and it ain't done yet. I HOPE I'll have time to finish it up somewhere along the way...)

In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there; 

    (Oops...not that either. Some in this house are anxious for Christmas to arrive, though.)

The children were nestled all snug in their beds; 

     (FINALLY!  One I can actually work with here...)

While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;

     (??? I don't think so, but poor little Karson may be dreaming about his daddy....)

*My apologies to Clement Clark Moore - I won't trespass on any more of your wonderful poem!

I found this tonight underneath Karson's very own little Christmas tree...

Yup...it's a brown box "wrapped" with torn bits of white printer paper and labeled

 "from Kars to Daddy."

My heart broke when I saw it. And I haven't had the courage to ask what might be inside.

Is it wrong to ask God to grant me a wish? 

This would be my wish for this night...

That the dear little boy sleeping peacefully under his Mater and Finn McMissile comforter would be blessed with a very special and clear dream about his daddy.

A dream that comforts his precious heart with the certain knowledge that his daddy is okay and truly in that wonderful place we call Heaven.

I've worked hard today - catching up on household tasks since we were away for a week, putting out as many Christmas things as I had reasonable time and energy to manage. Underlying it all has been a fearful dread of tomorrow. 

The lights on the nine foot tree in my living room have gone out for now. It seems symbolic in a way. Once I got the tree up last year, Michael never ever wanted the lights turned off. He almost seemed to associate the light with hanging on to life...as though letting it go out might bring an end to his time here with us. For that very reason, I have kept white lights lit on our silk fycus tree in the corner since about January 11. I can no longer stand a completely darkened house.

 

Back to tomorrow...or today, in all reality. 

Why do I dread it so much? Well, that question requires a complicated answer, but a couple of quick reasons are these: 

Thanksgiving Day of 2013 was the last time Michael and I really did anything that even came close to resembling a date. And it was pretty unexciting as dates go. The kids were off to a family event. We had planned to get some dinner at Cracker Barrel, but the wait was over two hours, so we ordered take-out and got it in twenty minutes. We brought it back to the house where he sat in his hospital bed, and we ate together and shared a few moments of precious time together before he began to feel a need for rest. 

The second reason I've dreaded this day is that from this point on in 2013, Michael's health dramatically plummeted. He only left the house three times after that day...the last being to head to the hospice house where he then left not just the house, but this world! Memories are now flying thicker and faster than before...and it's not going to change until sometime after January 16...

So I'm endeavoring to do my best to do Thanksgiving and Christmas as I'm supposed to. But I just may have to give myself permission tomorrow to skip part of the day's activities and spend some time alone. It may be what I have to do. I've pushed myself so hard at different times this past year to do what duty demands of me, do pull myself together for my children, and to be the kind of daughter/in-law/church member/friend I should be...

I have no idea when it's okay to say NO because of my own personal feelings

because it feels like I'm doing it all wrong - 

basing a decision on my own emotional desires seems so selfish. 

How do I know when it's okay to grant myself permission to hide away?

I know I have an amazing support group. I know how abundantly blessed I am. I am extremely grateful to my sweet Heavenly Father for caring for me so thoroughly and completely. He has led me to the right people, He has stepped in to help me with decisions, He has lifted my spirits time and time again. He has carried me and granted me strength. He has kept us safe and worked out details out of my control. 

He gave His life so that Michael could have eternal life in Heaven.

He gave His life so that we could follow Michael there some glorious day.

I am truly, truly blessed beyond measure.

But this day still hurts.

And there will be more that will hurt. 

I know that.

I also know that somehow, some way it will all work out okay. 

Because God said He would care for me.

And there's no doubt He will...

"Do not fear, for I am with you;

do not be afraid, for I am your God.

I will strengthen you; I will help you;

I will hold on to you with My righteous right hand."

Isaiah 41:10 (HCSB)

"Haven't I commanded you: be strong and courageous?

Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the Lord your God 

is with you wherever you go."

Joshua 1:9 (HCSB)

God said it. And I'm believin' it the best I can. Now I'm going to do my best to get some sleep...