In Closing

It has been three years since Chuck died. THREE YEARS. I can scarcely believe it. I remember praying, “How long, Lord? How long til I can breathe again? How long til each moment of each day is not absolute agony? How long til I want to live again? How long til I laugh? How long?” God has graciously and miraculously healed my heart and breathed new life into my once weary spirit. Praise Jesus!

This blog has been such a gift to me. Thank you for encouraging me through “the hospital days” and through my grief. God used you to ease my burden, and for that I will be eternally grateful. This precious season of my life has come to an end – as has this blog. I look back at it in wonder – so many miracles, so much pain, so much joy, so much…life.

I want to part with the truth about what happened to Chuck Though it broke our hearts to say goodbye to him, he is home. Though it seemed cruel to take him after such a courageous battle, God showed mercy to Chuck. He loves Chuck so much, that He put Chuck’s needs above our wants. God whispered, “Well done, Chuck,” and He relieved all of his struggles, all of his pain, all of his limitations. He gave Chuck LIFE.

May God bless you richly! All my love - Jan

It is Well

For a few weeks now I've been harboring ill will toward God. It all stemmed from a simple question at Bible study…do you expect God to respond to your prayers? Innocent enough question. It unearthed a world of hurt I had inadvertently buried. NO, I do NOT expect Him to respond to me…not anymore. Ouch. How did that happen? When did that happen?

Sometimes I am still shocked that God's answer to my daily begging was, "No." I did NOT see that one coming. I fully believed, fully expected healing…and not that lame, "he'll be healed in heaven" kind of healing. I expected Chuck to come home with me…for us to grow old together…or at the very least…to grow older together.

So, I've been harboring. "HOW, HOW, HOW can I trust You with my heart, LORD? You took my greatest joy. You took my delight…my greatest source of comfort and laughter. You took my hopes and my dreams. If You can't do that one thing for me…game over…because no other request could ever mean as much to me as the one for Chuck's very life."

In this discovery, I've turned back to God…angrily…poutily, but back nonetheless. And God has responded in gentleness. He's revealing His truth to my very heart. He is showing me my limited vision. He is showing me my prideful demand to understand His mind. He is showing me there is more than I can see and understand…there is more. There is something beautiful and complete in His, "No, Jan. It's time. I love you, and I'm taking Chuck home. I'm not asking you to understand. I'm asking you to trust me."

So, while I don't expect a "YES" to each request, I am coming to understand that each and every request is treated gingerly with ultimate love and good…that each "NO" is an opportunity for something precious and mysterious to soften within my spirit. While I'm still hesitant, I can hold my trembling heart out to God and know that it is ultimately safe.

A Tender Reminder

I'm beginning my morning with thoughts of Chuck. Sometimes I try to downplay what I (we) lost. This is one of my feeble attempts at self-preservation...he was just a man, right? Yet there are times I simply cannot deny it. Chuck was amazing...bold...audacious...witty...charming...challening...and oh so much more. Once again I am humbled and awed that HE CHOSE ME.

I recently received a letter from a nurse who took care of Chuck during one of his stints in the I.C.U. at Big Baylor. Cassie, as God would have it, is a former camper!

Hi Jan,

First and foremost, I just want to say how very sorry I am to hear about Chuck. While I didn't know him in the capacity that most people who visit the site did, I was touched by his presence, even if for a little while. It was always an honor for me to get to take care of Chuck, and talk to the two of you, even about basketball (I am still grateful for the day you guys put the TV on the Mavs-Spurs game so I could watch!). It always warmed my heart to see how many people loved the two of you, and how much the two of you loved each other.

I'm so glad to see that you guys are doing a memorial at TLC. I know how much the camp meant/means to you guys, and there are many others--including myself who will always be grateful that there was a place you could go and be "normal", even if for a little while.

Take care,

Cassie Moffitt

One Year, Six Months, and One Day...

not that I'm counting. It's true. My love has been gone from me for one year, six months, and one day. (I mark time in years and half years.) Amazingly, I did not even realize on February 20 that it had been exactly a year and a half since Chuck's departure.

I was crashing my niece's slumber party, when my sister leaned over and whispered, "A year ago today, we were in paradise." Ahhhh yes, the Hawaii trip. Stunned, I clamored, "Is today the 20th? Chuck died EXACTLY a year and a half ago." I was shocked that the anniversary almost escaped my notice. It would have had Shea not brought it up.

For just this very reason, I am in awe of God's work in my heart. Truly...He has brought so much healing. I had prepared myself for a life of simply existing...awaiting my time to join Chuck. I knew I'd have moments of happiness in my journey...but I did not expect THIS. I did not expect a full life...a life filled with joy. I did not expect God to take my heart and expand it around the hole that Chuck left. God gave me a brand new heart...a heart that functions at a greater capacity to experience JOY. Who knew? It takes a hole in ones heart to help it beat more joyfully.

So I am celebrating. I am celebrating God's miracle in my life. I'm celebrating that I get to keep the hole that only Chuck could fill...so that memories of him can live there, speak to me, and make me laugh. I'm celebrating that the areas around that hole have expanded to take in greater joy and peace. I celebrate God's redemptive power to restore me to a FULL LIFE. THANK YOU LORD JESUS.

A Week in God's Country

I spent this entire week working from Spearman...God's country. I could not get enough of the sky...the flat fields...the windmills. Spearman just happens to be home to THE J. B. Buchanan Vintage Windmill Collection.



Every time I was out on errands, I would drive to the edge of town just to get a glimpse...of OPENNESS. Everything is so picturesque with the stark contrast between earth and sky.

Alas, I miss home and am looking forward to getting back to my neck of the woods.

Is It REALLY this Hard?

This question has been plaguing me...is it really this hard to live? And not just to live, but to live meaningfully? I mean come on...how hard can it be? Yet, everywhere I turn...so many issues to address...so many habits to change...so many relationships to tend...so many obstacles to overcome. These thoughts chase me throughout the day: must increase exercise; must decrease caffeine intake; must feed into relationships; must keep an eye on my budget; must plan for my future; must serve a hurting world; must find my place in ministry; must find my place in this world. REALLY?

Then God reminded me...it is that easy. After crying out to him, "Where are you, God? Why am I so empty? Aren't you supposed to fill me? If you are supposed to be my husband now, what kind of husband are you? The kind who neglects his wife??? I am empty, empty, empty, empty!!!!" He answered. But not right away. He let me stew a while...journal a while...cry a while. He has answered with..."BREATHE woman. You are in process. If you do NOTHING, I will work in you. I will work in you. Me, Jan, I will do the work. You cannot change your own heart. You cannot motivate an unwilling spirit...I will do the work. You stay connected to me. You look to me. You cry to me. Don't go out there and try to fix yourself, woman. You cannot do it."

Whew...I think He's gonna do the work. I'm gonna rest in Him (you know...for as long as my spirit is willing...it'll come.)

Confound It!

Yes, I've taken a break from the blog. I feel ready and inspired to put "pen to paper" to tell the story of how God carried me and Chuck through the last year and a half of our marriage.

Because I get very short glimmers of "brilliance," I want to use them for writing...yes...a book. The glimmers are SO short, that if I use them in the blog...ain't nothin' left.

While THE PLAN was to use my glimmers for writing the book, I've simply stifled the glimmers and watched movies. instead.

Confound it.

Happy New Year

As I enter a new year, my heart is full...gratitude and sorrow flow mingled down. May this year be a blessing to you and to your families. I am sending out warm thoughts and blessings...there are so many of you whom I love so dearly...who have blessed me...as you've come into and gone out of my life. This has been a year of embracing as well as of letting go. Each act has been an offering of love. May you find peace...joy...affection...and humor...with enough sorrow to enhance the flavor of each. May you come to know the God who sings over you...who looks upon you with sweet affection and tender mercy. May you (and I) find true significance.

God bless you in 2009.

A Season of Joy

One of the greatest gifts of grief is the awe in feeling joy. I feel joyful...and I cannot believe it! Though I held out hope that God really would heal my broken heart...I'm amazed that He really, really did it...that He's doing it as I write this...and that He will continue to do it.

With the birth of our savior fast approaching, the world is rejoicing...yet I believe my joy this year is sweeter than ever because God has granted me the most precious gift of grief.

Joy to the world! (Thanks, God.)

Trigger...

Once again, ashamed and embarrassed, I bawled my way through another visit with the good Dr. S. Each time I see this man, I PROMISE myself it will be different. I give myself pep talks. I pray. I breathe deeply. There is something about visiting this man that “triggers” a grief buried…waaaay down deep.

I see Dr. S. a few times a year. He treats my recurring trigger finger. (I should be thrilled with how easily I am getting off…diabetes for over 30 years and my only complication is trigger finger.) Yes, TRIGGER finger…perfect name. But first, the history...

Before finding the sweet, godly Dr. S who explained "how God designed my hand,” I visited a masochist. Note, I have been around needles for over 30 years...with few tears and virtually no anxiety. Enter Dr. I'm-Too-Busy. You see, the way you treat trigger finger initially is with cortisone shots. Somewhat painful…but when the area is numbed prior to the injection, no BIG deal. My first "hand doctor" turned out to be Dr. I'm-Too-Busy. Our encounter scarred me. His office was packed...my appointment was an hour behind schedule...so the man skipped the numbing portion of the appointment (to shave off five whole minutes). I didn’t see it coming....I thought he was giving me the numbing shot…NO. He gave the real deal sans ANYTHING to take off the edge. He literally brought me to my knees. I walked away feeling completely violated...and just the tiniest bit afraid of needles.

Blessedly, I found Dr. S. He is so gentle and kind...visiting him used to cause me little anxiety. And then Chuck died. Somehow the two events are intertwined. I can no longer bear to get injected...not without a major axiety attack. I’ve not been able to go to Dr. S without a complete breakdown. Yesterday's visit left me in tears...POST appointment...meaning THERE WAS NO PAIN...the appointment was done...finito...no need for tears. TWO hours I cried. I find that hilarious...and odd...come on! It's not that big a deal. I think it has something to do with 1) being nervous about a medical situation; 2) knowing that I am at the mercy of someone else’s gentleness or lack thereof ; 3) being scared and NOT having Chuck to comfort me; 4) thinking that there's no way Jesus is gonna show up to comfort me for such a RIDICULOUSLY simple procedure; 5) realizing how TINY this situation is compared to the ones Chuck faced DAILY (for well over a year). I am just undone…humiliated, embarrassed, scared, alone…ashamed of my weakness...which leads me right to God's lap.

God brings me home during these breakdowns. These little episodes are reminders...reminders to cry...reminders to run to God...reminders to give my pain and my grief to Him. Yes, He has brought merciful healing, but there is buried pain...awaiting a safe time to come up...pain that I can pretend does not exist...that I can ignore for months at a time...until God brings them forth...to remind me that "time does NOT heal all wounds...God does." There are still lingering doubts and fears that God wants me to offer him...and He patiently waits until I'm ready. He gives me these ridiculous experiences (that make me laugh right through my tears) and whispers, "Yes...I know, Jan. I know how you feel about Chuck's time in the hospital. I know. I know you doubt my goodness...my mercy. And when you're ready, I'll show you that I LOVED HIM MORE THAN YOU DID. Yes, I did. But before you can really know that, you've got to walk through all this doubt and sorrow. You have got to share these doubts...take them out, dust them off, and present them to me. So, each time you feel vulnerable and afraid, I am giving you the chance to remember your untapped pain. And each time you tap in...give it to me. We'll reach the bottom. And I will give you beauty for ashes. I promise."

Coming On Again!

If you are a runner, you know what it is to get that bless-ed second wind! The term "coming on again" for you may mean...alright, I can do this...I can finish! I think it means something similar for anyone, runner or not, who finds themselves weary...thinking they can't quite continue...or finds the race has changed mid-course. "I want to run another way, but God, I don't know how." Then...you get a hint...enough to get you to the next step.

My all-time favorite singer/song-writer is releasing his album "Coming On Again" this Friday, December 12. If you are in the area, I hope you can make it! Concert starts at 7:oo at Cibolo Creek Community Church in Fair Oaks Ranch. This album is a celebration of Greg's return to the race! In his own words:

I’m a prodigal…A son who took for granted what he had been given and threw it all away. My far country journey led me to alcoholism, losing my job, and nearly losing my family. Rock bottom for me was sitting in an emergency room with heroin addicts and homeless people realizing that this trip to rehab was my last chance. For me this was my Pig Pen moment…I realized that in my father’s house was life, hope, and blessing and so I started the long journey home. This journey for me was aided by love and friendship and a community of faith that cheered me on. Upon arriving I was free again. This album represents the songs of this journey from brokenness to awakening to celebration. For all of those who are coming home again…this album is for you. I hope you enjoy what you listen to and that it can in some small way make a change to your life. On another note, I am the Music Director out at a place called Cibolo Creek Community Church in Fair Oaks Ranch, TX. Come out and see us if you ever have a chance.

Get a sneak peak here at http://www.myspace.com/gregcoplenmusic

As Deep Calls to Deep...

Ah, the Texas Panhandle. To the untrained eye, it can appear barren. To those initiated in its splendor, the land is full of life and promise. Once I drove through Abilene, the sky opened up...as it does once the trees and hills fully disappear. Sky and land for as far as you can see. Truly, I feel I can breathe easier. The land speaks to something in my soul...something that lies dormant until I reach the plains.

Oddly enough, driving back to San Antonio opened a new sensation for me. As the hills and trees came into view, I felt warmly enveloped rather than suffocated. Is is possible to have TWO homes?

God's Work...

I just spent an evening with my Needy Widows' group, a name affectionately bestowed upon us by one of the older kids. We are a contingency of young widows, having met under the gentle care of Paul Loring. When our meetings came to an end, we wanted MORE. So we meet monthly for dinner. As I sat around the dinner table, I felt like I had come home. These women, though they barely know me, know my battle. We've all fought it...are fighting it...and we're moving ahead...shield of faith protecting our hearts. There's a great deal of "knowing" in that...fighting the same battle. It's the kind of knowing that connects you at your very core.

Arriving late, I was awed by the sight before me: a table around which sat women who had endured the most agonizing loss of their lives. There they sat, laughing, joy radiating from their faces. I never could have envisioned this scene...but God could and did. I was overwhelmed with love and pride. Sometimes it takes courage to laugh...to FEEL joy in the face of great pain. (Yes, this revelation makes me admire Chuck even more.)

God is healing us. Oh, there's still plenty of work to do...but He has been faithful. Can't wait for next month's gathering!

And just like that...

I'm ready to move forward. Who knows what made today different...the day to open the curtains and let the light cleanse me. I CLEANED MY DESK AT WORK.

It has been in a state of disrepair for quite some time...and for just as long, I could not muster the energy...the desire...the heart to do anything about it. "My cubicle" never really became mine. It was new to me about the time Chuck went into the hospital. I don't remember if I moved my stuff to my new place or if my work-mate, Amy did. Who knows? In any case, since that time (about two years) I have dutifully shown up to work...I've shown up there...but only out of sheer will. I've piled stuff...tried to keep it somewhat tidy...no trash thrown about. But let's face it...I could have cared less about the state of my cubicle. I barely cared about the state of my life. I lacked any form of motivation. Today, it found me. I cleaned my desk. I organized it. I threw away over a year's worth of grief...in the form hastily jotted notes (since my memory has been shot)...notes to pay my phone bill, notes to call my grandma...notes to organize my finances. Many of you have noted my SHARPIE system. My memory got so bad that a sharpie was my only hope of remembering really important things. Sharpie to the back of the hand...works every time. But I digress...Today was the day!

Next...who knows? But it looks promising.

Life Anyway

What does one do when a birthday approaches at a MOST inopportune time...at a time when relationships are stretching, changing, growing...at a time when life is so unsteady? What does one do? Play opossum? Hide? Proceed with caution? I tried to coast--hoping to go relatively unnoticed. After all, it's just a day. Right? I mean really; it's just a day. Right??

As is appropriate, life happened all about me...despite my desire for time to stand still. Life, in all its robust messiness, swept me up whether I wanted it to or not. I was LAVISHED with love: phone calls, cards, face book notes, FLOWERS, birthday songs, hugs, kisses, and a gluten-free cake. I was also enveloped in heartache. Ahhh life.

This was another "first". Chuck has always proceeded me in birthdays. He'd turn 30; I'd turn 30. He did not turn 38. I did. What ya gonna do?

I thank God for my BEAUTIFUL, messy, abundant life. I thank God for my 38 years of LIFE. I thank God for Chuck's 37 years of LIFE. I thank God for His call on my life...for this path of grief. I thank God for what He has done; what He is doing; and what He will do. I thank God.

Praise from a Broken Heart

I stayed for worship at church Sunday morning...after trying to walk out three times. One time I was half-way to my car. I can't even tell you what pulled me back into the building. As Chuck would gleefully remind me during times like these, "Jan, no one is fighting with you. This is kinda between you and you."

It's been over a month since I've had a heart open to God and his healing. I'm bitter right now...looking at what I do not have...what I've lost...what I will never have again. It's a place that makes Satan dance and spin...he's so thrilled. Some of the most healing words I've heard during this time are, "God does not blame you for feeling like this." The same sweet soul who uttered this also reminded me that praise out of a place like this is MOST sweet. So on Sunday, with a heart that felt far...that felt that God had failed me and left me all alone, I worshipped Him. I sang my heart out, in utter defiance of what my heart was screaming. I raised my hands and worshipped...I sang for God because deep down...I know. I know the truth.

This song undid me..."Heal my heart and make it clean. Open up my eyes to the things unseen. Show me how to love like you have loved me. Break my heart for what breaks yours, everything I am for your kingdom cause, as I go from nothing to eternity."

A note, Hosanna is an exclamation, originally an appeal to God for deliverance, used in praise of Christ. I did not know this as I sang my heart out...as my soul was soothed by the worship...as I unkowingly cried out for deliverance.

Four Laugh out Loud Movie Moments

RUSHMORE


SO I MARRIED AN AX MURDERER


OH BROTHER WHERE ART THOU


OH BROTHER WHERE ART THOU


Tied for 5th were scenes from Moonstruck and Raising Arizona...some curses...so go rent the moveis and see for yourself!

My Fellow American

Yes, even at the ages of 34 and 37, my sister and I CANNOT believe we get to do grown-up stuff like vote. She called me all giddy after she had done her civic duty..."I voted...tee hee." I'm so glad she called me first...cause I had the SAME impulse...to call someone and giggle...but thought that would be ridiculous. So, for the rest of the day we have referred to each other as "my fellow American."

What is it about voting? I get a bit teary...and my chest just swells with the privilege of it all. I thank GOD I am an American...and old enough to vote...and there's someone else out there who gets how very, very cool it is to participate in something so HUGE.

It is Finished

Can a Christian do anything to become more acceptable to God? If you were to look into my heart, you'd have to answer...YES...striving and yearning and practicing spiritual disciplines WILL make a Christian (or at least this Christian) more acceptable. Alas, that is a lie that, by the grace of God, I am starting to really see...starting. It is a truth that is contrary to my very being...I am a pleaser. My significance has been built upon gaining the approval of others. I have always been a good girl, a good daughter, a good wife...good, good, good...it is a part of who I am. Who am I if I'm not "good"?

I have heard time and time again that I can do nothing to make God love me more...heard it...tried to accept it...but I never believed it. Who knows how God works...but this was the morning. This was the morning I would read the words and know they are true. I am borrowing this from Search for Significance by Robert S. McGee: Christ said "It is finished." He did not say "It is almost finished, and if you live a perfect life, you and I together might make you acceptable."

First time in my life, I relaxed and breathed in acceptance...acceptance unearned by my goodness. I made a list of all the good things I do. In one column I put "things I do to please God" and in the other I put "things I do for love". The only thing that distinguishes the two list is my heart. From the outside, both lists of activities look "good." It all boils down to my heart...the heart God has shaped and molded from my birth. Does it not make sense that he would have us serve and love a hurting world in ways that are sincere...in ways that pour out of us...that he pours out of us?

So now what? Not sure. I'm giving my "heartless" list a rest...just stopping those activities and working from a place of love.

Life Simplified

Today is the last day of my two-week business trip. Though I've missed my family and my dog, I'm sad my time here is ending. My life has been amazingly simple the past two weeks:

my work is challenging BUT of a single purpose (even my time card for the past two weeks will be EASY to complete = committee meetings)
my wardrobe is simplified
someone cleans up after me
someone feeds me
someone handles all the bills
most of what I need is within walking distance
Basically, I've know what to do, where to go, who's in charge...everything simplified!

Makes me wonder about having a single purpose upon arriving home. Did Jesus feel this sense of simplicity? I'm sure he did. Though his work was challenging, his purpose was always clear. He knew that he knew that he knew God would provide for all of his needs. He knew what to say yes to, what to say no to, what to include, what to cut out, who to speak to, who to walk away from...it all boiled down to glorifying his daddio.

Is it possible to live this simply in Christ? Is it? Side note, my time with God has diminished...since all my needs have been neatly handled...hmmm. I try to throw out a cursory prayer from time to time...just to check in...just cause I know he'd like to hear from me. But I've definitely pulled away...basking in my false sense of security.

Now I'm rambling...time to go home.