Heat

The sun
it beats
searing
warmth,
baking the
earth.
Saturating
the air
sizzling,
scorching.
The breeze
it blows
and
leaves, they
tremble.
They try
bringing
breath of
coolness.
But
refreshment
does not
come;
Humid,
the
air moves
but
does not
release.
The heat
it grips
tight and
close.

Much Afraid

Sometimes and often I have that failing feeling - I, like wool unwound and spinning helplessly across the floor.  

I wish for the miraculous - that change would transform this inner torment and right quickly, that only peace would remain.  That I could love well and deeply, especially those closet to me when sometimes it is so challenging.  I wish that pain of soul, spirit and body would be eased, thrown off - the leaden blanket that keeps me stooped - lifted off of my shoulders.  I wish that I would not be filled with anxiety and that the precipice of cliff that I sometimes feel I am free-falling from would be instead - a meadow, tall sweet grasses, blooms fragrant and lovely, this a bed to lay on, not the nails of dis ease that pillow my thoughts.

I wish the journey to wholeness would not be so snail-creepingly slow, so very laborious and the mountains I am climbing to reach the summit would not be so sheer and high.

I feel very much like little Much Afraid in Hinds feet on High Places, who has been given Sorrow and Suffering as her companions and would like very much to exchange these companions.  The Great Shepherd though He walks with me and talks with me, doesn`t give me what I want and I would turn to Him and plead for respite.  I am deeply weary from years of physical pain and years of emotional turmoil.  The grief of loss of dear Seana cuts deeply into my already fainting heart.

I wonder if habits of a life-time can be shifted, so that healthier more productive choices can be made, and I realize at the same time that some of these habits are indeed being shifted. If I look back even recently, I can see adjustments, different ways of doing things.  There is progress after all.  The quote I saw the other day `no matter how many mistakes you make or how slow the progress, you are still way ahead of everyone else who isn`t even trying,`` applies here, to me, and so I can have hope; eat the sweet, juicy fruit of hope, hope that energizes, hope that lifts.

This deep malaise comes from physical exhaustion, from health issues with no easy solution.  The body affects the mind and the mind affects the body.

I do try to remind myself that this weakness, this inability is really a gift.  That in my utter inability, in my complete weakness He can shine through me.  His strength infused into me.  So one more day, one more moment, somehow grace-breathed I go however haltingly forward.  This race I run albeit slowly, has a Savior who walks with me, a Comforter who advocates for me, and a Father who stands at the finish line cheering for me.  So I endeavor to ``turn my eyes upon Jesus and look full in His wonderful face.``  There is now no condemnation in His eyes, those beautiful eyes, only great, great love and much tenderness, and grace, grace abundant.

I, though full of questions, fears, and trepidation remember that ``in the midst of my lament, in the midst of my sorrows, His mercies are promised, new every day... J. Luscombe``

So onward I will go - looking around every corner for His new mercies.

Every day.

Finding encouragement...

I love Ann Voskamp's writings, her honesty, her vulnerability.  So many days what she writes strikes bells of resonance in my spirit.  Reading her blog today these are the thoughts that I so very much relate to, they captured me, encouraged me: -

"I replay blunders. I anticipate failure. I confess this to you: I compare myself to other women. And when I do, I fall on the short side of things whether it’s true or not. In my writing life, I second-guess and self-doubt. I wonder why I should say anything if it’s been written before—or been written better. As a wife and mother, I see the holes, the shortcomings. I tally up missed opportunities....

The Lord didn’t ask for gold-star performances in this life. He didn’t ask me to prove my significance to the world. Or to prove myself to Him. He didn’t ask me to prove anything at all. He is the One who approves, declaring usbeloved while we were yet sinners. He asks now only for my heart, my willingness, my hands—even when my hands haven’t seemed all that useful." -Ann Voskamp

I trust Him to sort my day out, to sooth my furrowed brow.  He whispers "I love you dear one" into my hurting, often fret-filled heart.  When the pain pounds in my head and I cannot escape it, I lay my head on Him, rest in His arms.  When self-doubt and insecurity swirl fog of blindness, He shines His light of perfect love.  He loves me, completely, absolutely, wholly - with no reservation at all.  When grief and anguish overtake me, He holds me close, rocks me gently.

Here I am in all my frailty.  There He stands in all His completeness.  And He comes to me, wraps me up, gently, tenderly and fully.  He who holds all things together also holds me.

c. June, 26, 2012 JGG

Nothing Wasted...

Know this day;

that each act of love,

each kind word spoken,

each hand held out in comfort,

is never, ever wasted.

Grateful list...

1) Warmth and radiant sunshine...

2) Talks and teas with friends...

3) New friends slowly being made...

4) Air conditioning....

5) Sitting on the deck drinking in the color, the
     beauty, the fragrance of lilacs...

Grief is not a fast food drive-thru...

I am sometimes baffled by society's view of grief.


Grief is often viewed as something exceedingly negative, perhaps even wrong, especially if the one grieving is perceived to be being grieving too deeply or too long.


What?  Is grief really something we order through the fast food drive-thru?  One order of grief, and we dust off our hands, phew that's over with?  Eat the sorrow, swallow it whole, drink back the tears, toss it back, be done with it?


I cringe from this view of grief.  It is shallow, knows nothing, absolutely nothing, of the cavernous depths of grief. When you dare to love deeply, passionately, completely; invest fully in another human being, grief is not a pill you quaff quickly.


Grief is not linear.  You do not go from A - Z, there, you're done.


Grief is circular, round and round and around again.  It is the slow work of climbing up a mountainside.  Along the way you view the memories, celebrate the wonderful moments, the times together; you suffer the regrets, the mistakes made in just being the human beings that we are,  you rewind the words spoken and unspoken, you re-live the wonder, the pain, the beginnings and you re-play the ending sometimes over and over again.  You rejoice over the laughter you shared and weep deeply for the suffering you endured with and for the one you have lost.


And grief takes time.  A long, long, long time.  Cut grief short and we amputate our emotional growth, stunt the agony so that it buries itself deep inside of us; then it rears up, surprises us - brings boiling rage or the blackest deepest hole of depression.  Our bodies tell stories that words or grief unexpressed scream out.


Grief changes us.  We learn somehow to live with grace.  Grace - it shadows us as we walk through the day, brings some relief from the heat of grief. You learn you can make it through another minute, hour, day.


Grief gives gifts too, if we can receive them.


Grief gives the gift of compassion, of eyes that open in a fresh way to the all the suffering around you, hands that reach out to those in need, who hurt like you do.


Grief teaches that every day is a gift given, live it, be it challenging, joyous, or just plain difficult, just stop, breath it in, this moment, this day.


Grief gives the gift of tears.  Tears that tell the story of the one you have loved and lost.  Tears that release bitterness, anger, and fear.  Tears that smile with memories, jewels that we treasure.


Grief teaches us to "shower the people you love with love, show them the way that you feel...(James Taylor)."  It teaches us to keep short records of wrongs.  Grief teaches that forgiveness is something to do every day.


Grief teaches us to be vulnerable, to be real, to be authentic.  Do not hide, do not pretend.  When you grieve, you show others that grief is not to be shunned, that it can be navigated, lived with, survived.


One of the most poignant verses in the Bible is "Jesus wept. John 11:35"  Why did Jesus weep?  He knew that Lazarus would be raised, He knew He would call forth life out of death, yet, He wept.


So go ahead weep, grieve, cry, scream.  


We know there is the Resurrection, our greatest Hope - we know He will call life out of death.  Yet, still, we weep, just as Jesus did.


We know that one Great Day we will see those we have loved once again, we will hold them, we will see them gloriously, completely whole.


We will see the One who will wipe every tear from our eyes, the One who holds eternity in His hands.


Here, now, we walk in the land of grief, and, as we journey we hold the nail-scarred Hands of Grace, one moment, one day, one breath at a time.

A list...

Five things I grateful for....today:




1) Friendship, lunches, e-mails shared this day...




2) A call from sonny boy....




3) Snuggles with my sweet girl...




4) Warm sunshine, blue skies, fluffy clouds...




5) Making a dent in the mountain of my laundry...:)

Every Day

Every day
a gift.
Precious,
unrepeatable.

There are
good days
and bad days.

Some are very,
very,
good.

Some are very,
very,
bad.

Yet, each day
a building block
a day to
live -

live,
intentionally,
and
live
purposefully.

Building
one memory
after another
and one more
after that.

Every day,
a gift
Precious,
unrepeatable.

Live it,
all of it,
every single
solitary
minute.

Every day.

Heavy heart

Heavy my heart this day.  

This feeling,

I, like worn fabric

frayed thin

about to come apart.

Surreal

A mist hangs over my heart.  


I join in the days activities. I laugh, but the laughter is shallow - not laughter that comes from deep within. 


Life is black and white, at best muted shades of grey.  Though color explodes fireworks - spring greens of trees, blossoms of white, pink, lilac, and fuchsia, and summer breath blows warmth over the earth; there is only winter in my soul.


Winter, it is cold and ice forms on the lake of my heart, grief cracks that ice with the heat of my tears.  The tears they are the only thing that keeps my heart beating, no tears and I freeze with this grief.  My heart frozen - no feeling would bring blackness so deep I fear its result.  So weep I will - long and hard, keep my heart soft even under this ice.


I look to the Son - He who will "shine on those living in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the path of peace." Luke 1:79


Though we walk through the darkness of this shadow of death, this loss so terrible, of one so dearly loved - we look to Him to shine on us: to guide day by day, moment by moment, breath by breath to the path of peace.