The Grief is Threatening to Swallow Me

The week has become agonizingly painful…as the time of dispersion slowly creeps closer. I am seeking a diversion, any diversion will do. Today I am going shopping for new bathroom linens, which should distract for a few hours at least. The fighting of the children, although exhausting, brings welcome diversion from the grief threatening to swallow me whole.

Small One is begging to “see Papa” in the canister. I don’t mind so much that she wants to see what the ashes look like; I just can’t bring myself to comfortably open the lid. I am certain I will have no ability to answer the flowing river of questions that would follow. How, what, where, did it hurt, yadda, yadda…yes, it will be a never-ending learning quest for this Small One.

First Born perceives my agony. He is offering tender hugs and making great effort to divert Small One’s incessant antics. Although he does not handle her entirely with grace his patience with her amazes me beyond belief. His awareness of my pain, his ability to read me, reminds me so much of his Papa who is now canistered on the mantle. How did this boy get so much of the man we are preparing to take to his final resting place? Through God’s divine plan First Born has received the best of Papa well blended with the patience and heart of his Papaw creating an amazing gift to parent.

I don’t know how I will get through the next seventy-two hours. I suppose an organized checklist will get me to the base of the mountain; and then one foot in front of the other will get me to the top. I know my Father in heaven has given me the inner strength to overcome the earthly pain, as He did when Dad died. I found out then if I remember to let go of the grief to His care I will find much more inside than I ever imagined.

For now I will pray for a steady breeze to carry him across the mountain tops, the place where he found his strength and where he belongs.

Christ's Sacrifice and Euthanasia

The following is a topic I was assigned to write about for a class discussion board. Because it is a topic close to my heart due to personal experience I decided to share it here too. The assignment was to "Review the Feldman reading this week about euthanasia and assisted suicide as well as the online article on Christ's physical death.  Many argue that assisted suicide or euthanasia is justified because it relieves a person from suffering.  What are your thoughts about euthanasia, given what Christ did for us?" and the article referenced was the physical death of Jesus Christ.

This is such a difficult topic to address, and which does one address first? How do I personally feel about euthanasia and how does that relate to what Christ did for us on the cross?

We will never be able to know the suffering and pain Christ felt during His final twenty-four hours. In my most extreme imaginations I can’t even grasp a hint of the torture He endured…for me, and for you as well. There are no punishment practices today that can compare to the brutal acts against Jesus Christ so we have no real point of reference when thinking of the severity of His experience.

What we do know is this from Isaiah 53:

³     He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering. Like one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not.

⁴     Surely he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows, yet we considered him stricken by God, smitten by him, and afflicted.

⁵     But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed.

Christ received the worst possible punishment, set aside for “murders and serial killers” (Hammond, p. 12). Not only was He punished, He was humiliated in front of the multitudes. He took upon Himself all the sins of the world and allowed our human actions to separate Him from the Father, and He went to hell in our place. No greater sacrifice has been, or ever could be, made.

But part of what He did when He received all the sin of mankind is He received our punishment, sickness and disease, as well. He took “our infirmities and carried our sorrows.” Throughout the bible God tells us that illness is a curse, an evil tool of Satan. Jesus’ wounds gave us the authority to claim healing and be free from pain and disease, suffering and misery.

When looking at this scripture, I am torn. I know we should not have to suffer, but we should also be able to claim healing. We all know healing does not always come, for reasons we can never know on earth. But we do know He paid the price and therefore we should not suffer.

In light of this fact I feel that euthanasia is an acceptable practice within certain parameters. If a person is terminal, and there is no quality of life, and they are suffering either physical or emotional pain I believe euthanasia is a way to claim God’s freedom from misery that Christ took for us on the cross.

I personally have been present for both the death of my father and my mother-in-law. Although I made the call to have my fathers machines turned off I still would have written the scenario differently. I can tell you in both instances the precise moment I would have chosen for them to be set free of this world. And in both cases that moment came prior to the final breath, the cease of their heartbeat and the liberation from this life.

(Sidenote: this post gave my husband and I moments of deep conversation and the writing moved me to tears.)

Feldman, R. S. (2008). Development across the life span. Upper Saddle River, NJ: Pearson Prentice Hall.

Hammond, L. (2007). When Healing Doesn't Come Easily. Minneapolis, MN: Lynne Hammond Ministries.

^[1] The Holy Bible : New International Version. 1996 (electronic ed.) (Is 53:3–5). Grand Rapids: Zondervan.

Options...there always are some.

Sometimes choices are difficult to make. Sometimes situations are so unpleasant it may feel like there is no obvious solution and certainly not multiple solutions. There are often situations where any course of action will create additional unpleasantness. I do not recall in my lifetime ever being presented with a circumstance which had any less that two possible resolutions.

Recently I was having a conversation with an adult about a situation where she vehemently assured me there was “no other option!” Her insistence left me a bit befuddled and wondering why someone would refuse to acknowledge any alternative. Although most of the options were unpleasant for someone, the choice she made was wrought with challenges as well.

Although I have not always made the best choices in life I have always recognized that they were available. As a grade-schooler I could have chosen to do my homework neatly and accurately the first time before I went out to play so I wouldn’t have to redo it after dinner and right before bed. In junior high I could have picked a nice boy to have a crush on, instead I chose the rough and tumble boys from the bad part of the neighborhood (they were way more exciting, and my parents did not approve). In high school I could have gone to all my classes and been on time, instead I spent a good bit of time ditching classes, running from the Narc and having a blast doing so. In college I could have begun my papers at the beginning of the semester when I received the syllabus, but opted for waiting until the last minute and staying up all night to produce eight or ten pages of beautifully bullshitted prose (oh yeah, I made up a lot of that stuff and LOVED every one of those passing grades I received). I could have opted not to marry my first husband…yep, that one was a bad choice. I may not have acknowledged it at the time, but I’m pretty sure there was an option to driving home after drinking…many times. I could have abstained form sex until I was married, left abusive relationships, not had my children…in each of the situations there were always other options.

Now that I am a parent I am presented with completely different situations requiring difficult choices between multiple options. I want to raise strong, smart, capable and independent children…this means I can’t always bail them out, give in to their wants, believe them above no one else. I have to teach them about giving and responsibility. I would love to hand a large sum of cash to my son whose class is in competition with the others to raise money for the Haiti victims, but if I do this what will he learn about personal sacrifice? When he loses points for talking in class I could choose to allow him to blame someone else for drawing him into conversation; which I would love to do because I want my baby to be perfect and sweet and never in trouble. When my precious girl throws a fit because she wants only peanut butter and fluff sandwiches for dinner I would love to say “She won’t eat anything else, there is no other option.” But then what would I be teaching her about life and consequences of her actions? Do I want them to believe that I will always be there to bail them out and rely on no matter what, take up for them even when they are in the wrong, hand them what ever their hearts desire, and take care of all the difficult options they have before them? No, I do not want them to go through life this way. I want them to realize there are always choices to make and sometimes they are not fun...because I may not always be there, and they may not always be right, and sometimes what a person wants is certainly not in their best interest.

I Love Facebook, but....

I love Facebook, probably too much. Ok, so I am perhaps addicted to Facebook, isn’t admitting there is a problem the first step to recovery? Not only do I like getting a quick catch up on my friends through their status updates, but I really enjoy seeing how people have changed and what kind of spouse they found and what their offspring look like.

The source of my addiction though is my farm…my beloved crops and barns, and cows and chickens, pigs, lambs, elephants, and the trees-I have hundreds of them. I love my farm and wait with eager anticipation for my crops to mature so I can harvest and plant again. I am obsessed with “mastering” each fruit and vegetable and I dedicate at least one visit each day to check on my ribbons. I also love that it is not cutthroat competitive, unlike my sweet Sorority Life and my majorly powerful Mafia. I check these each day too, but with a little less love than my farm.

But lately I have found another part of Facebook I am not sure I love…or even like for that matter. Some of those people, you know the ones from the WAY past, do not necessarily bring good thoughts or feelings with them. That boy you loved for so many years in grade school who never paid any attention to you…well except to tell you that you wore boy’s jeans and they made you act like a tomboy. The class bully who believed the class idiot to justify a fight. Oh and that guy who was such a nerd and you always picked on him…no real reason other than the fact that you could. The girl who loved to tell others she was more popular than everyone...and strangely she was. The boy who got kicked really hard in the groin. You see these faces and wonder “what are they doing now?” For me it is like a moth to a flame, a bee to a flower in bloom; I am drawn in and can’t stop the click. I have to look to see if they have turned out well or if their life has gone to crap (sometimes hoping for the latter). I cannot resist.

For the most part I check out job info, schools attended/degrees earned, and photos. I look to see if there is a webpage or a blog listed. If they have links I of course peruse those as well. It is amazing what you can learn about someone without them even knowing you are looking.

But some of these have left me with a pit in my stomach and sorrow in my heart. Have they really changed as much as it appears? Would they ever believe how much I have changed? Wouldn’t it be interesting to have a do-over on that relationship? Wow, now all that mess makes sense…

I have found myself wanting see some, and pray for many. I say “want” to pray, but haven’t yet. There are people who want to be prayed for by anyone. But there are people who would likely rather not be prayed for, especially by someone who they were not on speaking terms with the last time they laid eyes on each other. How offended would they be to know that I found out about the cancer, the broken relationship, the weight gain? And is there anything out there that I don't want them to know about me?

In all likelihood I will pray for them, and hope that Facebook leaves better left forgotten memories truly forgotten.

Sometimes...be still

Sometimes the demons creep in when you aren’t looking, or paying attention and thus you are not wary or on guard. Sometimes the demons hide themselves so skillfully even when you are looking they still manage to get close, and get in…and get hold.

It is when they get hold that my world begins to slow, and eventually move in reverse taking me back to places I don’t want to go; places that scared me then and horrify me now…places no one can understand. And when I enter those places forward progress is impossible, growth comes to a screeching halt, and sometimes I feel I can’t even put on foot in front of the other. It is in these times I forget where I am supposed to put my trust, even questioning why I ever thought there was such an outlet for all the baggage I am certain I carry alone. The world turns grey and the shadows are in every direction I turn.

I have found that my demons were distracted recently though, or quite possibly I found a modicum of sensibility in my disoriented brain, and a few points of their attack were discovered. Funny, the strongholds I created against them still stand; they came from directions I never would have expected, hiding in trusted places I thought were safe…and they left me doubting, questioning, defending and attacking.

What to do about them now is the question, quite a conundrum, for they have come so close their place of residence cannot be severed from my world. It would be as difficult to remove their host as it would be to remove my own arm. The bloody buggers were smart this time, and have produced a dilemma.

The beauty of the situation is I know I have strength for all things in Christ Who empowers me [I am ready for anything and equal to anything through Him Who ^a]">[a]infuses inner strength into me; I am ^b]">[b]self-sufficient in Christ's sufficiency].Phil 4:13 (Amplified). I know that I know that I know this for He has proven it to me before when life completely took my breath away and left me deflated and lost. All I need to do is release it to Him and hold on to the promises He gave me.

For the moment I will be still and know that He is God (Psalm 46:10), and in the stillness I will listen and hear when He speaks to me.

Sharathon

As a first time volunteer answering phones at Love 89 Sharathon I am moved to share some thought and insight to the situation and atmosphere in the studio.
For the past two and a half days I have spent five hours sitting by the phones and answering calls. When I initially arrived on Tuesday the atmosphere was jovial, excited, and full of energy. Each ring of the phone brought smiles and cheers from both the Love 89 staff and the volunteers. Everyone was filled with hope for the coming days and hours and reaching the operating budget goal.
As the days have progressed the volume of calls has decreased and so have the pledges. The situation at the moment has the station funded at barely over 50% of the upcoming year.
For me this is a difficult thing to see. Love 89 has made a huge impact on me and my family. The first time I decided to give what inspired me was the sound of silence…knowing if they did not receive the funding they needed that is what I would hear when my dial hit 89.1. At that moment I knew I needed to do my part.
Now, years later, I have come to know some of the Love 89 staff on a personal level. My children view the DJ’s as family and beg to attend all the remote events where they will have an opportunity to see them, talk to them, and hug them. My pledge has increased each year in spite of the grim economic climate we currently find ourselves. I KNOW GOD will make the way for me to meet the pledge he has put on our hearts to commit.
Now as I sit here in “Telephone Central” looking at a silent phone my heart breaks. I know these people, care about them, and their families. I also care deeply about the call that God has put on their hearts and lives to do His work in this community.
This Sharathon is more than a few dollars to hear a few songs on the way to work and get a traffic update. This is people’s livelihoods and callings; God’s calling answered and fulfilled. These families who are willing to change their own lifestyles to answer His call and serve us…the listeners.
The people you are hearing on the radio are passionate about their callings, and their listeners. They have heard His call and they serve. And now they sit here trying to express the urgency for funding to keep God’s ministry flowing through our community. What they are not telling you, and what you cannot see, is this is their very livelihood in jeopardy. This call God has placed on them puts the food on their tables and clothes on their backs. Children are loved under their roofs and families are connected and bonded through this amazing family born of this radio station.
For me, any gift I may have to work a little harder for, cut something small out of my budget, or even something large is worth the sacrifice to know these people are able to continue their work. Answering His call can sometimes be a difficult thing; they do it graciously, happily, and thoroughly. I for one, choose to step up, make a difference, and do what I can so my friends will be able to continue their work for Him.

If you can help, or know someone who can, I encourage you to call 865-934-6089 or visit www.love89.org

Too Close For Comfort

Today I find myself still somewhat reeling with shock and awe. Although I know our world is filled with wickedness I somehow try to maintain optimism that it will never strike too close to home. I am occasionally caught in unfortunate dilemmas requiring me to step back and reevaluate a circumstance, but this past weekend I found myself touched to the core and am still struggling to make sense of the situation.

I don’t think murder ever really makes sense. Sometimes, maybe, as retribution for horrendous acts against a child, I can get my brain around what would drive a person to this heinous act. But as an act of spite, or vengeance against another adult for a breakup, or a horrible divorce, adultery, theft; I just don’t get it. Even as I type I am sitting in an attorneys office as moral support to a friend who is in divorce mediation. Although I have been angry at her soon to be ex-spouse, and I know she has been too, I can’t imagine a reason to actually kill him. He is, after all, the father of her children and no matter how ugly they might be/have been to each other he doesn’t deserve physical punishment.

So this past weekend when I learned of a murder/suicide in Knoxville I was a bit surprised. We do have hardcore violence occasionally here, but it is rare I hear about it. I don’t read the paper regularly and tend to forgo the nightly news for children’s activities and family time. So the simple fact that I am aware of this incident makes it remarkable in my mind.

A vibrant young woman, who was a single mother, was shot and killed outside her home last Friday after returning from dropping her child off at school. The shooter then turned the gun on himself and took his own life. The two had a history, some of it publicized in the news media, spanning a number of years. Although I cannot speak to the validity of the reports the relationship had supposedly been tumultuous and terminated at some point.

This woman happened to be the mother of one of First Born’s friends, peers, and classmate. My brain reels to grasp what would push someone to this point. To kill the mother of a young child, leaving her world turned upside down, to me would require some sort of delirium, or insanity beyond my comprehension. The act in and of itself so violent it turns my stomach, and the thought of this child leaves me unable to breathe, suffocating in my sorrow for her.

There are many things I feel shouldn’t ever have to happen in a persons life. No one should have to explain to their second grader that their friend’s mother has been killed. And certainly no one should ever have to tell a second grade girl her mother is forever gone, torn from her life, by some undeserved act of violence. This incident, unfortunately, is not one I was able to keep at arms length.

Heavenly Father,

I pray for this extended family, that they have the strength and sanity to guide this child through the excruciating days ahead. I pray they have the gifts of guidance to steer her as she navigates her life without her mother. I pray for this child, that someday she receives the peace that surpasses all understanding, knowing she is safe in Your hand and that in spite of the immediate pain, all things work to some greater good (although at this point, any reason completely escapes me). I pray she is surrounded by loving hearts, caring hands, and all the warmth You can provide.

In Jesus sweet, sweet name.
Amen