Brave, Anyway

Tag: christian

  • Words

    Words

    There are no words.

    I’ve sat down to write so many times in the last three months, but each time I get up and walk away because I simply have no words.

    It’s not disappointing. It’s not frustrating. It simply is.

    Each time I wonder what it says that I don’t even care that the words are all gone. And each time I smile as I’m reminded of a trip to the Hallmark store a few years ago. I needed a condolence card and the first one I picked up said only “There are no words.” I can have no words all on my own and for free – the whole point of Hallmark is they are supposed to have the words.

    I do still have words for Words With Friends. Name and profile picture removed to protect the one with the high streak of two.

    Things that I have always been passionate about do not matter right now. What’s happening in Israel and Gaza, elections, legislation, court decisions, health care. My current world is small, focused just on family as we navigate loss and change. My current job is big, getting us all through this season of loss and change.

    I am task after task after task. Trying to predict and prepare for what others will need, trying to appropriately respond as very different people grieve very differently, and often afraid to really think about what I think about it all because I cannot risk a dam breach right now.

    Sometimes I don’t even have words when I pray. So I simply sit and remind myself that in Romans, God says that when we don’t know what to pray the Spirit knows and He takes care of it. And then I hope that my cavalier attitude about not having words is not frustrating to God.

    The path forward is pretty clear most days. And I even wonder how that is, and if that’s okay, and what that really means or says about me. Am I able to move forward and get stuff done because I care(d) less than others? Am I just more experienced at compartmentalizing? Am I a biblical Martha who just always focuses too much on the tasks? Is a massive dam breach coming? Is it today? There is no end to what I can overthink.

    And yet, I know that everything is and will be okay. I was reminded of it this weekend when one of my favorite worship songs came up in the shuffle. Tauren Wells singing Echo always gives me a boost, but the words hit different (Taylor Swift!) this time. Your love is holding on and it won’t let go.

    When I don’t have words or peace or answers or prayers, I sometimes wonder if God is far away or busy or that I’ve done something really wrong or that I don’t have enough faith. None of those things is true. I may not be doing a good job of holding on to Him, but He’s still doing His part of holding on to me.

    Our household love language is constantly trading memes and reels.
  • Freedom Documentation

    Freedom Documentation

    One of my greatest treasures is dozens of little pieces of paper from my Dad. Cartoons he cut out from the newspaper. Thoughts he wrote down and stuck in my purse or laptop bag. Notes from sermons that he wanted to focus on and that he tucked into the bibles he eventually gave us. Little messages from him that I saved over the years and recently went back through as I mentally prepared for Father’s Day.

    A three-time Vietnam Vet’s commentary on my date’s attire: “Last time I saw someone wearing something like this I bushwhacked him in the jungle.”

    Some were funnies or just hearts expressing love and some were reminders that I could always, always come home. But most are lessons – lessons that are fundamental and yet have different meanings at each life stage and event. Lessons that grow with you, as you grow. I’ve started thinking about them as his constitution. The Constitution of Dad.

    Pray every day. Eeeeeeeevery day, he’d say, making sure I knew that the frequency is important. Pray Psalms 91. Pray the prayers in Ephesians. If you don’t know what to pray, just say the name of Jesus over and over. Praying allows God to work. And praying doesn’t change God’s mind, it changes ours.

    The longer you wait before making a u-turn, the more costly it is in every way. Sometimes we get on the wrong path. We’re certain it’s right until we know it’s not. It happens to literally everyone. And most importantly, it’s not a disaster. Even if it costs you money or you lose a little time to go back or hop over onto another path, this is money and time well spent.

    Let everyone be wrong. About you, about situations, about anything. Your peace is what’s most important and it’s your job to hold on to it. Good humans will admit when they are wrong and reach out to you. You need to admit when you’re wrong and reach out to people.

    Be honest, with everyone but most importantly with yourself. See things as they are and not as you want them to be or as you wish others would see them. If you cheat on that test, you did not earn an A or finish first – you behaved in a way to gain something. If you do something halfway, you deserve the C. Cheating and short-cutting will always hurt you more than anyone else.

    What you refuse to surrender, you will eventually surrender to. Anger. Addiction. Unforgiveness. Fear. Insecurity. Expecting anything other than what God has promised.

    You gotta clean out your mind regularly. Think about what you are thinking about. Just like you tell your hand what to do, you tell your brain what to do. You choose what thoughts to keep and what thoughts to toss. About yourself and about others. If you allow your mind to focus on negative thoughts, you will feel and speak that way. And if you fill your mind with thoughts only about yourself, you won’t be of any use to anyone for anything – especially God.

    Do not limit God. With your words, your deeds or your thoughts. And our words have power, so always be mindful of what words come out of your mouth.

    Looking at his notes that most spoke to me, all spread out on my living room floor, I realized the common theme is they are paths to or instructions for living freely. There’s even a note on the inside cover of one of his bibles that says Get On With Life.

    Like Thomas Jefferson’s reference to our country’s living and breathing document to help guide a nation to “establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our posterity,” the Constitution of Dad is my guide to living in freedom.

    My Dad and baby Ella. A girl Dad and a girl Papa.

  • Forward

    Forward

    If you remember anything about Robert Frost from your high school CliffsNotes, it’s likely some version of “the best way out is always through.” Maybe that’s true sometimes, but other times I think the way out may be to go back or even to be still. What I’ve come to believe is more true, particularly in navigating grief, is that the way through is forward.

    Forward.

    One step at a time. Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot.

    The morning after my Dad died, I received a very clear message that the timing was on purpose. Tough days were ahead for my girls, and how I behaved would be what they looked to and what they remembered later. I needed to show them how to live and how to grieve – specifically how to do both at the same time.

    In the last 10 weeks, my girls have lost both their grandpas and their Dad. They’ve watched me cry and they’ve watched me laugh. They’ve watched me watch the same old episodes of Criminal Minds repeatedly, they’ve watched me do the crappy paperwork that comes with notifying companies that someone has passed away, and they’ve watched me excitedly buy all the shirts we even remotely liked at the VCU bookstore. They’ve watched me in funeral homes, shopping malls, church, the hospital, prom dress boutiques, long car rides late at night, and even doing my own yard work which they know I hate. They’ve watched me very purposely put time into projects where we could all see the progress and then the completion, and they’ve watched me take steps to plan things we can look forward to later in the summer and year. They have heard me pray for healing, peace, and knowledge of God’s presence in their lives and in the lives of people that I didn’t pray for for a very long time. And I am just not sure it was enough. Or that I showed them good balance in terms of moments of sadness and Easter basket hunting.

    I’ve been thinking a lot in the last few weeks about the word forward and how it relates to grief. What propels us forward, what stops us from moving forward, how best to move forward. Especially when life is unfair, or things are unfinished or unresolved. How will I help the girls move forward? What can I say? What can I do? How can I show them the way?

    I think maybe the key to forward is found in 3 other f words. (None of which is that f word.)

    Forgiveness. Forgive that they left, and believe they didn’t want to. Forgive yourself for relief they are not in pain anymore. Forgive them for old wounds you’ve been hanging on to. Forgive yourself for having mixed feelings about these people you grieve and love. Forgive that they weren’t perfect and forgive that you aren’t perfect.

    When at first I will not listen, God will send a message through Words With Friends. Because I am stubborn.

    Freedom. We must give each other and ourselves freedom to grieve anywhere, freedom to grieve differently, and freedom from any timeline. We must also acknowledge that someone’s death brings them and us freedom, and that’s not something to feel badly about. They are free of all the yuck that comes with living in this realm and we are free to live without them here. The people who really love us, our people, delight in seeing us thrive – whether they exist here on earth or in our great cloud of witnesses.

    Faith. Holding on to your faith can be especially hard in this time but is especially important in this time. People will say things like God needed another angel. They mean well, but they are just wrong. (And if I find out this happened, the fourth F is Fite and I will make it stop.) God does not make people sick and God does not need more angels. You know who God is. It is deeply ingrained in you. HE is deeply ingrained in you. He grieves with you. And He promises in Matthew that those who mourn are blessed and will be comforted. Whenever you question this, and you will, it’s remembering His faithfulness at other times in your lives and in other areas of your lives that will give you peace.

    He knew death here is not forever…He wept because knowing the end of the story doesn’t mean you can’t cry at the sad parts.

    I guess the simple truth – without steps and f words – is that the way forward is on a path of grace. Grace for ourselves, grace for those around us, grace for those who are gone.

  • Not Final

    Not Final

    Dear friends went to Horton’s today and sent me a picture of my Dad’s headstone. It was just installed and I hadn’t even had a chance to get out there yet.

    It. Hit. Me. Hard.

    So final.

    Final because it was the last task for me to double check.

    Final because his name is in writing on a stone.

    And then I remembered.

    Not. Final.

    It’s not final.

    It’s a body with soil and stone – what’s left when the soul is gone.

    What’s actually final is his destination; where his spirit went.

    Today is the part of Holy Week when we typically focus on the fact that Jesus was crucified. But it’s also the day that we can choose to remember some of the last words He spoke, sharing with a criminal the final destination He was looking forward to. Today you will be with me in paradise.

    Dear Dad, I’m guessing Paradise rocks. Now that I’ve recalled the word paradise, I can’t get those old David Lee Roth lyrics out of my head. I have a renewed love for 80s metal since you’ve been gone. You’d be horrified, and your scrunched up horrified face always made me laugh. The process of living and grieving, trying to set the example you talked about, means tears one minute and animated talks of Easter baskets filled with goodies the next. I ate a lot of the girls’ chocolate before Easter this year. A lot A LOT. But Amazon saved the day and delivered more just in time. I’m not getting all the things done each day, but I am getting the important ones done and done well – so I think you’d be proud. It’s springtime and everything is blooming. Remember that time you pulled over on 64 and picked the wildflowers I thought were so pretty? The ones that we later discovered are protected by law and there’s even a giant sign saying so?! Fun times. Miss you, Dad. I’m OK and I know it. Hope you know it, too.

  • Freedom Thoughts

    Freedom Thoughts

    Today began before the sun fully came up, with loud noises and flashing lights. An ambulance at a neighbor’s house immediately had me praying, and also immediately transported me to the night my Dad died and how the world looked as I arrived at my parents’ house.

    Red flashes. Red is the color of stop. Red is the color of danger. My eyes filled with tears as my heart filled with heaviness.

    And just as quickly as the heaviness came, the urge to choose a direction filled my mind. A deeply ingrained habit, a gift my Dad gave me, to be mindful of the direction of my thoughts and emotions.

    My Dad’s gift came in the form of a book – for me, a life-changing book. I first read Battlefield of the Mind by Joyce Meyer as a young adult, when I desperately needed freedom from fear. And although its pages have countless lessons, the most important one for me is this: I am in control of all my thoughts and I choose which thoughts to dwell on and which ones to discard.

    This morning I had a choice to focus on praying for someone else or on sadness, grief, and fear. I chose praying for someone else. But as I’m human and all up in my feelings right now, an hour later and for the rest of the day I was focused on and looking back over my scribblings about fear and progress and the year of freedom.

    When I think back on all the times in my life where fear had the most power, I had at some point made a choice to walk with or in forces that did not embrace light in the same way I did or needed to. For me, freedom is in the light. I am the strongest when I use my free will, my freedom, to choose light. I am the strongest when I surround myself with other people who choose light.

    Are light and love interchangeable here? As in Light and Love? That brings me full circle to Mat Kearney’s Closer to Love, a song that can transport me back to the smells and sounds of CHKD halls just as fast as those lights this morning transported me back to 3 weeks ago.

    She got the call today
    One out of the gray
    And when the smoke cleared
    It took her breath away
    She said she didn’t believe
    It could happen to me
    I guess we’re all one phone call
    From our knees

    But that song and those memories all have a happy ending now. A light associated with them. A love associated with them. A freedom associated with them.

    I’ve been looking for my eagle, a symbol of freedom, and still haven’t seen her since my Dad went to heaven. I think she holds some sort of secret I am supposed to unlock. A behavior I am supposed to learn from. But until I see her, I’m stuck with Google and bird websites to try and figure it out. What I know with certainty so far is this: in order to fly, birds or planes must have a balance of forces. NASA has really complicated ways of explaining this but Toni Morrison says it so simply: You wanna fly, you got to give up the shit that weighs you down.