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.

Content to be Discontent?

Okay, so I'm in Florida for a two-week business trip. One week down, one more to go. We are staying at a LOVELY hotel which, if in the right room, overlooks the mighty St. John River. It makes the San Antonio River look like a puddle. In any case, last week my room was situated so that I had a speck-like view of the river with a full-view of two bridges. (The bridge views are nothing to balk at - they light up at night and everything). ALL week long I really tried to like my room...really. I thought it was a great opportunity to work on the discipline of contentment (especially when just around the corner were rooms with BETTER views). Do I really need a better view? I mean come on! My company pays for me to be on this GREAT two-week trip to stay in a hotel that I could not afford without months and months (and months) of saving. Why not just bask in the beauty of this amazing GIFT??? CAUSE...just around the corner lies the promised land....

My boss-man, who so gets my quirky spiritual struggles, suggested I wait until after a reasonable time (after check-out hours) to see if I could get a room change. That way, if the room change was good to go, it was meant to be. Still, I cringed at this because what if there was no room available? It's soooo much easier to make things happen than to put faith in...well, in ANYTHING other than my ability to get things done...a little something I picked up when Chuck was in the hospital. Yes, though I use it infrequently, I have learned how to fight for and get things that are important to me. (My mother would be SO proud). I must remember to use my new-found skill for good and not for evil. I digress. As you may have guessed, a FULL-RIVER VIEW was available. And might I say...THIS ROOM ROCKS. River AND a view of...count them...THREE beautiful bridges. Content schmontent...I'm stinkin' delirious with JOY. So much for spiritual discipline!

You Can't Hava the Mango

I am currently enjoying a two-week business trip to Florida. Upon bragging the last two mornings about how God has granted me "the gift of sleep," I am up with a case of I-can't-sleeps. Though this rarely happens to me, I have learned that 99% of the time it is a call to pray OR act upon a leading from the holy spirit. Well, I tried the praying. "God, who needs prayer?" A name came to mind and I prayed my heart out...no sleep. I was also inspired to write a post...so here it is. In obedience, I crawled out of bed...so here goes.

Chuck and I often discussed reliance on false security...how good it felt to have something to hold that seemed lasting...if only because it was present every day (money, car, job, marriage). I find it disheartening that I am longing for some good ol' false security...something that I can see, hear, smell, taste, and touch daily that gives me an idea of how my life will play out. Something that is "constant"...a husband, a child, a friend, a plan. You see my dilemma...all that I set my heart on to fill my need for for stability is fragile.

If I just knew where I was supposed to live; who I was supposed to live with; what I was supposed to accomplish in life...THEN I would feel safe...like I could relax a bit. Yeah, yeah...I know. Granted, when you are married with kids, life takes on a comfy routine...a false sense of security. Realistically, folks doing life with others are no more granted security than those doing life alone...alone but waiting for a comfy routine to share with someone. Heaven forbid that false sense fail us; a spouse gets sick; we lose a job, or worse, a child...we feel like that these disruptions are NOT supposed to happen, and if they do then something is seriously wrong and we rush to create a new sense of security...something else not meant to last.

Why the struggle? Read the Bible...it's what we do. We are SNL's Mango...the longing for and reaching out...then poutily turning away..."You can't hava the Mango." Thankfully, God knows our struggles and loves us all the more for them.

Clean, Frothy Fun

I would like to start reading for fun again...it has been YEARS. I read (blessedly) every day at work. At some point, I lost my ability to get lost in stories...to escape. Now I read tons of non-fiction. That's all good and well. But I'd really like to STOP all the thinking and processing new information. I want to get lost...to lose myself!

Can you help? Here's the deal, I want LIGHT yet clean. Is that available anymore? Is anybody putting out funny, clean material? Please give me hope. I've used my sweet friend, Dawn, as a springboard: I will try "Austenland" by Shannon Hale. She has likened it to "a cup of hot chocolate." It is "clean, frothy fun". That's what I'm looking for!

Good for What Ails You

My sweet friend recently posted something that inspires her to "hang in there!" It reminded me of my old standby. This little ditty got me through long days at the hospital; long nights of missing Chuck; long runs while training for my half-marathon...anything that requires movement forward when all you want to do is QUIT. Yeah, firm believer in scripture...but sometimes you need something...that makes you giggle...that can be applied to any and every situation.

As a bonus, this clip is a perfect illustration of the relationship that I shared with Chuck. See if you can figure out who is who.

Blessedly Broken

I have been so wrong...and the Lord has been so patient. He has put people in my life who have stepped in and spoken out, especially this past week. (It's been yucky, and humbling...and just what the Doctor ordered). So, what does one do when on has been convicted of giving in to "the dark side"...of playing lies on a repeating cycle over and over? I did the obvious...started with a pity party (no one understands...no one knows what it's like...it's harder for me...). Note, this is Satan's FAVORITE form o' torture...get someone to turn on themselves...dig themselves into a hole...and most importantly, ISOLATE themselves from those who love them and can speak TRUTH.

So, I'm waiting...cause I give. I give up trying to make myself better. I give up trying to do this grieving thing well. I give up trying to be a good example. I give up all of the things I put so much confidence in...things that bring me a feeling of worth. I will wait until I believe the truth...nothing I do could ever make me more acceptable or more pleasing to Christ (hard pill to swallow). He loves me as is...adores me as is...sings over me...daydreams about me...makes breath-taking sunsets for me cause He knows how much I like them. Why is it so hard to just sit and be adored? I will not do my best to figure this out...I'll just try to sit....

Tagged!

Lookie! I think I figured out how to do this. Yippee! Okay, now for the task at hand.

1. My mother carried me in her womb for an extra month...okay, three extra weeks. This may explain why I crave safety...don't want to leave areas of warmth and comfort.

2. I narrowly escaped being "scraped off" my mother's ovary. They thought I was cancer...no comments please.

3. I love, love, love to have my feet tickled.

4. My favorite activity as a young 'un was watching my dad clean fish. Ewww.

5. My aunt gave me a personalized book when I was five. You know, the ones in which they use your name and the names of your friends and your very address? It was about a friendly alligator who lived at the zoo in my town and later became a famous rock star (my town had no zoo...no alligators...no rock stadiums). I believed that it was all true, and desperately tried to recall all the adventures that this alligator and I had had...because certainly it HAD to have happened...it was in print after all. I still have the book.

6. When I was four, I thought that heaven was on my friend, Kevin's, house...you know...heaven/kevin...it's easy to get confused. Nonetheless, when my granddad died, I used to look for him on the roof of Kevin's house.

7. Through seemingly tragic events (me contracting type 1 diabetes - a traumatic experience for my family, and Chuck contracting cancer and later scoliosis/kyphosis - a traumatic experience for his family) God created a match made in heaven...bringing us from opposite ends of the earth...to one location...Texas Lions Camp. Truly an example of God making ALL things work together for good...GREAT good.

Ummm, I'm not sure how to link to someone else's blog! So you get off free!

The Lifter of My Head

Praise God...he loves me in my self-pitying state. He is so personal that he actually used LAUGHTER (one of my favorite things in the world) to reach into my heart and give it a squeeze. Up til yesterday, I was FULLY convinced that 1) God was displeased with me, 2) God was "disciplining me" (which I viewed as outright PUNISHMENT) and 3) God was a big bully just waiting for me to mess up so he could whack me. I know...where do I come up with this stuff?

Yes, all lies...but when you believe a lie...when it checks in keenly with the reality of your life, you need something BIG to shake you loose. For me, it was laughter. Long story short, my sweet friend asked me why I thought God would punish me...what had I done that deserved punishment...so I laid it all out. When I was done, she asked, "What else?" When I said, "That's it," she just burst into laughter. Here I had just poured out my darkest fears...reasons why Chuck may have been taken from me...why Chuck had to suffer...and I was crying pretty hard...feeling full of shame...and SHE LAUGHED. That did the trick (few things are as glorious as moving from gut-wrenching sobs to laughter). It's like the laughter slapped some sense into me.

Then G said, "Oh Jan. You've been so deceived." Satan had actually taken the love that others had showered on me and twisted it around in my heart so that I viewed my leaning on others as a turning away from God...a reason for his "discipline" which was looking an awful lot like PUNISHMENT.

Then she prayed over me...and for THE FIRST TIME in a long time, I knew...I knew God adored me...that he could be trusted...that he was personal enough to come to me through laughter. HE IS THE LIFTER OF MY HEAD. He loves me and every move He makes comes from a place of love.

I clung to Proverbs 3:5-6 when Chuck was in the hospital...a way to face all of the uncertainty, "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight." Problem with me is "my own understanding" gets carried away sometimes. As he reminded me in the hospital "Do NOT trust what you see...no matter what the doctors say...look to me...trust in me...do not lean on your understanding of this situation because this situation is BIGGER than you and Chuck...it is more precious than you can know or can see right now...so TRUST IN ME."

Now, for the wisdom (ha) to accept love and blessing. I think I have a touch of survivor's remorse. I don't want to move into blessing...I want to suffer, suffer, suffer. I don't want to accept a whole lot of joy since Chuck is gone. Note, this is completely twisted since Chuck is blessed and happy beyond belief. Part of me feels like "I've had the best life imaginable...the best husband imaginable...so I'm just gonna coast to the end."

Would Chuck want that? Oh no! Does God want that? Uh, nope. Do any of my loved ones want that? No. Do I really want that? (Hmmm it's safer...and I'm all for safety!) It's also selfish. I've been leaning so hard on my own sturdy understanding, that it's difficult to free fall into God's plan.

All this to say...God has been FAITHFUL in my wanderings...He has loved me each step I've taken away from Him...He is the lifter of my head: "But you are a shield around me, O Lord: you bestow glory on me and lift up my head." Psalm 3:3

Edie's Take on October 7, 2008

Just look! This is Edie's post from yesterday. Thanks for praying for her and her kids...this is a clear reminder that God is faithful.

Tuesday, October 07, 2008
AMAZING GRACE

I woke up in the middle of the night with that hymn "Grace, grace, God's grace . . ." in my head and it made me contemplate grace. I can't even begin to imagine where I would be today without God's grace. It is by God's grace that He gave me His strength, His courage, His patient endurance, and His joy these last 12 months. I am eternally grateful for God's sweet provision in my life and I never want to be the person I was before - God has "grown" me in such an amazingly perfect way for ME. I want my life (ALL of my life) to be a testimony of who God is and the tender mercy He shows His children.

Our day was perfect (except that A's phone broke!) We played in the pool, floated down the lazy river numerous times, sat by the pool and napped by the pool. The resort is beautiful with tall palm trees and the sky was an amazing shade of blue today! The kids made a music video - but I can't upload any pictures until I get home tomorrow - so make sure you check back for pictures. I can't thank each of you enough for your faithfulness in lifting us up in prayer. We can really feel your prayers.