Dinner out with family celebrating from 3 states or an Asian wrap alone at the messy table where you finally were allowed to finish your holiday activities with some kids . . .
A rental car authorized by your insurance company while the truck gets repaired from the deer or a silver beast machine that at least doesn’t reek like a fleabag hotel . . .
An upset stomach that lingered for weeks or a working diagnosis of a peptic ulcer that reveals that the stress was more than just a little of late . . .
A cold sore that just happens from time to time or a flare of wretched shingles caught in the beginning stages, THANK GOD . . .
The stuff of life making a rough landing all at the same time or a financial train wreck in the making as Christmas gift-giving rapidly approaches . . .
Tears of frustration from “not good enough” criticism in a new editing role giving way to compliments from out of no where just 3 months later . . .
Doubts of your acceptance in community volunteer roles with new folks who don’t know your history to appreciation for being part of the team . . .
Missing my husband dearly as he is away travelling to the non-starter reunion when having to practice extreme mold avoidance still . . .
Tears of grief from so very much loss shaking my fragile frame to the bone to a slow recovery days later with a few convulsive spikes here and there . . .
Powerlessness to minister to my brother who suffers post-stroke much greater than I to finally figuring out something I can send him to really help . . .
I really could go on. It’s just not the same thing when things really do go from bad to worse and you wish you had not feared for the worst because things can really go either way . . . and sometimes they actually go better than expected. It’s all a matter of perspective in the end, right? Ugh. Clearly I am witnessing both phenomenon. Really makes for uncertain living, I tell ya.
So what shall I do? To stay in the moment as best I can is what I shall do. Nap when I can’t concentrate anymore. Pet the pup for more than a moment ’cause she likes it too. Do something nice for my beloved Steve. Move my Bible to that more secluded spot where I can spend time with the Lord without as many distractions. Dwell and pray, pray and dwell in the presence of my Heavenly Father Who can lift my spirits above that which troubles me each day. I have given myself over to worldly worries and it is not the same thing as giving it all over to Him. I surrender. I don’t know what got broken that I landed here but at least this one I do know how to fix. Lord willing, things will get better! JJ
If you travel the same way and expect different results they say it is the definition of insanity. I get that so I resist the same.
If your baseline shifts and you take the same precautions against a disastrous outcome, you might say you are taking a chance that you might get different results. I usually control the factors I can and go with the new direction . . . when amnesia sets in from the last failed effort and something new looks promising.
If you smash into a devastating blow anyways and have to retreat to combat the devastation, you might say that you were more rolling the dice than making a reasonable plan for success.
If you add too many factors in any plan, precaution, retreat and come up against a surprise attack from an unforeseen foe then you won’t know what hit either one of you until the smoke clears along with your heads. Me: hours of violent convulsive episodes and the aftermath. Him: heartache, exhaustion, and no peace.
And if you are me in the latter years of battling a complex illness, you live in shock from the blows of what hit you in the last 24 hours when it is after 6 days of relatively few symptoms. The new treatments did look promising. They did not hold off the onslaught, however. And you paid one of the highest prices once again this side of heaven.
And if you are the beloved husband trying to navigate these landmines, help fight the war while carrying on with the normal and fun activities of life . . . you will have to watch the horror of your beloved get tortured on the battlefield. You try. Success is elusive or temporary. You fail. Again you grieve and so does she.
And if this well-worn path brings despair then so be it. Tomorrow is still another day. As for me, I’m still here and so is my beloved. Most importantly, I know that my Lord sees my waterfall of tears lain at His throne of grace. Life will go on somehow as it always does; I have more responsibilities now. The despair will give way to some sort of hope in due time; the Lord will add His grace and strength to see me and my beloved through once again.
For today, I am like a beaten puppy on this well worn path of life. It is tough stuff indeed.
Why is it that tragic news of a dear loved one has so many layers as we take it all in?
First there is the shocking disbelief that something so horrific could even happen. But it did and it does. The impact is not yet realized on this one for sure.
My beloved and I prayed several times as the news unfolded across the evening: the details coming forth slowly, leaving more questions than answers tonight.
Then a little later when simply lying with my beloved for refreshment triggered my own symptoms of ongoing illness, the tears started to flow alas but not for me this time.
The words of bad news, of new loss and the crisis of loved ones unfolding hath opened up old wounds from my own times like these in the past, when I had to travel quickly into a very painful unknown.
I cried some more. Oh how I miss my little brother so! I talked to him in the hospital when he was yet drunk and in the DTs of alcohol withdrawal. Little did I know that he would become unconscious and pass away within 2 days thereafter of alcohol toxicity, multiple organ system failure.
Quickly my late Mother made travel arrangements for my brother and I, with me still shell-shocked from my former husband’s departure and death of my grandmother within 24 hours of each other, just 5 months earlier. Travelling for another funeral out of state and into a lifestyle much different from my own was a culture shock on one level, a new loss to grieve, and a return to the drama of my childhood as well. Oh how I wish I could have re-written it all!
My brother’s Memorial Service was bizarre: held in the bar of a bowling alley with his people, his friends albeit fitting yet inappropriate just the same. I wrote about it three years ago when I thought about the star that now holds the ashes of his once tender heart. Many details are painful to recall here and to do so would be disrespectful to the memory of my now deceased Mother who was grieving in her own unusual manner at the loss of her son. It was a painful experience for all of us to endure back then. Some more sorrow got released tonight as it all came back to me again.
My Intended Beloved had memories of his own to share this evening from the death of his sister, his late brother-in-law, and a distant relative too. We don’t know how the current tragedy will fare as the night draws on into daylight for one weary family holding on, their loved one slipping further and further away from them. Please join me in praying for each precious one. The Lord knows who they are and what they need. I don’t know either but one thing that I do know is this: we do suddenly become connected to our brothers and sisters in Christ, even all in humanity when we tap into the suffering that goes on in life. I do pray the Lord’s supernatural intervention in the situation at hand. Only He can go beyond the layers which we now feel, we now see.
And in this we can all rest, Gentle Reader. For the shortest verse of our Bible reminds us of His humanity too, His sharing and caring in our times of grief. For Jesus wept too. JJ