pictures

On Wednesday evening at my Griefshare Bible study, we each brought in a picture of our loved ones. I was glad to put a face with a name for the others who talk about the ones they lost.  And I was happy to share my pictures of my Ryan.  I could not decide on one, so brought these three:

gifts

In a message, a sweet friend of mine mentioned that she thought Ryan must have had a hand in picking the perfect house for me.  I had not thought about that perspective at all.  But I think she is right!  There are SO, SO many little details in this house that are like little gifts to me.

I had only walked through the house one time, very briefly, before purchasing it.  The real estate market in California is crazy and houses sell quickly often on the same day they are listed.  So the day this house came up, down the street from my sister, on a whim, we visited.  The kids instantly liked it and it "felt right," or at least as right as it could.  At that time, I was not ready to begin to think about a home without Ryan, but also knew that practically we could only impose on family for so long (even though they sweetly insist otherwise).  But I made an offer (there were six offers that day) and prayed that God just make the decision for me.  He blessed us with the house.  Then I spent two months (60 day escrow) trying not to think about the house and avoiding anxiety about moving into it.

But now here we are and now that we have been in it for a week, I realize what a true blessing this house is.  It is a gift.  For having bought a house in the midst of when my grief was still too debilitating to really look at it, I did not want to see and was not able to see any of the little details then.  But this house truly is full of gifts.

There are butterfly and hummingbird bushes in the yard (I always wanted one in a garden) and birds zip all through my yard each morning.  The previous owners left a hummingbird feeder right outside the kitchen window.  How did they know I love to sit in the mornings with my tea and watch birds?  For those that know me, they know how much I absolutely love birds.  Ryan knew.  He cheerfully put up with all my bird feeders and bird houses.  He even helped me take care of several orphaned fledglings over the years.  So to see all these birds outside makes my heart happy. 

But it's not just the yard with the bird-attracting bushes, it is all the little details.  There are the exact light fixtures I have always admired here (base housing can be so boring).  The paint color is exactly what Ryan and I talked about wanting.  The kitchen, oh my goodness, the kitchen!  It is perfect.  Ryan would have loved it.  Ryan loved to cook (and was absolutely amazing at it too!).  He would have loved this kitchen - it has a window over the sink and an island for stools (both things we wanted).  The cabinet color, and even the hardware on the doors - all what we would have picked together.  I could go on and on about the details.  So many perfect details.  Ryan and I have just lived in SO many homes over the past 15 years that we have had a chance to see and discuss details we liked and didn't like in each.  Seriously, it feels like this house is the perfect mix of all the features we have always talked about liking from each home we've ever had, all in one.  Like our dream home.  And I have spent this last week being extremely angry and sad and upset about each and every one of these perfect details.  Because Ryan is missing it.  How do I enjoy any of this without Ryan?  I have only been able to focus on the cruel irony and my hurt feelings over the things that would have ordinarily brought joy in any other situation.

But when my friend mentioned that she thought Ryan had a hand in picking this house, it made me questio my angry.  I guess it made me change my perspective.  So today when I broke down in tears, I tried to look at each little detail as a gift.  That God is blessing me in my grief with little gifts of comfort, under Ryan's advice and urging.  I don't know how theologically sound that is, but it just feels so true.  I love the idea of Ryan knowing me so well and watching out for me from heaven.  And Ryan loved to give gifts.  He loved to randomly surprise me with flowers or sweettarts (my favorite candy) or just sweet little tokens to make me smile all the time.  Often for no reason other than with a note that would say "I love you."  So I am trying to see each blessing in this house as a gift, from God, that Ryan helped orchestrate.  Ryan always said he loved to make me smile, so it should not surprise me that he would find a way to keep doing that even now.  I am thankful for my friend's words, given in the right timing, to remind me to lift my focus out of the pit and up onto Him who is good.  
"A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in a setting of silver."  (Proverbs 25:11)

Even the fact that we have friendly neighbors who put a cheerful sunflower in their welcome basket!  Sunflowers have always been my favorite flower.  Our new neighbors would not have known that.  But Ryan knew.  Again, another sign of blessing.  Ryan even heard me say over the years how much it bothered me that people nowadays just come and go from their houses without really getting to know their neighbors.  So even just the fact that three friendly neighbors have introduced themselves to me this week means that God put it on their hearts to bless me.  And, again, I believe Ryan had a hand in orchestrating the environment where I would be living.  He truly is taking care of us and watching over us from heaven, just as lovingly as he always has.  So if you see me choosing the easier path of despair or anger, please, please help remind me or help me remember to focus on where my blessings actually come from.  I sometimes need reminders.  That, and I love to hear my Ryan's name spoken.

So all in all, this has been a very difficult week.  But I am learning to smile as I think about how much Ryan loved us.  And the fact that just because Ryan is not physically with me here on earth anymore, his love is still here.  I can see it in each gift of each day.  And it is helping turn my anxiety, sadness, and anger to a smile. 

"Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.  (James 1:17)

jealous of the angels

A friend sent me the link to this beautiful song and I am sitting here sobbing and listening.  I wanted to share:

"Jealous of the Angels"

I didn't know today would be our last
Or that I'd have to say goodbye to you so fast
I'm so numb, I can't feel anymore
Prayin' you'd just walk back through that door
And tell me that I was only dreamin'
You're not really gone as long as I believe

There will be another angel
Around the throne tonight
Your love lives on inside of me,
And I will hold on tight
It's not my place to question,
Only God knows why
I'm just jealous of the angels
Around the throne tonight

You always made my troubles feel so small
And you were always there to catch me when I'd fall
In a world where heroes come and go
Well God just took the only one I know
So I'll hold you as close as I can
Longing for the day, when I see your face again
But until then

God must need another angel
Around the throne tonight
Your love lives on inside of me
And I will hold on tight
It's not my place to question
Only God knows why
I'm just jealous of the angels
Around the throne tonight

Singin' hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
I'm just jealous of the angels
Around the throne
Tonight

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=0n67dSG35L4

hope

A friend gave me this cute cross back in July.  I just hung it up in my kitchen today.  

"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit."  (Romans 15:13)

sunset

I was helping Charlie set up the trampoline in the backyard tonight and looked up to see this gorgeous  sunset.  I felt like God was painting it for me and Ryan was blessing me with a gift.  Ryan knew how much I loved sunsets.  I would often call him out to the back porch to enjoy the evening colors.  We had some gorgeous skies in Texas and beautiful sunsets over the Potomac in DC.  I know Ryan was not nearly as excited as I was over the colorful displays, but he was always sweet enough to come "ooh" and "ahh" at the sky with me.  I felt like tonight was no different.  A heavenly blessing.
"They who dwell in the ends of the earth stand in awe of Your signs; You make the dawn and the sunset shout for joy."  (Ps. 65:8)

seasons

I placed a small pumpkin on my porch this week since it is the first week of fall.  I normally love the change in seasons.  It was something I loved about living on the east coast, we got to see all four seasons change so dramatically.  But today I looked at that pumpkin and realized Ryan died four days after the first day of summer.  It was the most horrific summer of my life.  It was the most horrific season of my life.  Most of summer 2016 is just a blur of pain, sickness, and shock, a lot of fuzzy details really.  But now, a few days after the first day of fall, I realize Ryan won't get to see this fall.  Or winter.  Or spring.  Or next summer.  I just miss Ryan so much this week.
"And God said, 'Let there be lights in the expanse of the heavens to separate the day from the night.  And let them be for signs and for seasons, and for days and for years.'" (Gen. 1:14)

flashlight moments

This article below has so many similarities to how I often feel.  The details of the situation are obviously different than Ryan's, but the shock and trauma are the same.  And the need for "flashlight moments" are the same.  Just wanted to share.

Link to original article:

http://www.taps.org/HopeHelpHeal/Little/#.V-lxj8lh7gc.facebook

Flashlight Moments by Ami Little
At 4 a.m. on July 20, 2015, I received a text message from my husband telling me to call the police and tell them where to find him. After a total of 36 months in Iraq and Afghanistan, he suffered from post-traumatic stress tied to a traumatic brain injury. Jimmy did seek help when it was provided, but for another year and a half he was unable to seek help either due to lack of availability or the fear of his career and reputation being ruined. Unfortunately, the light was no longer there, and he ended his life before the sun could rise that morning.

I became a widow at the age of 23. I felt confused. I felt lost. I felt alone. But more than those feelings, I felt guilty that I was unable to save him. Unfortunately, other people also felt that way. From relatives to distant friends, the number of fingers directing the blame to me increased. Quickly, my moments that were meant to be spent grieving the loss of my husband turned into looking at myself in the mirror wanting to join him.

Looking back, I understand why people pointed the finger. It was because of a lack of knowledge on post-traumatic stress and traumatic brain injuries. At that time, I did not even understand the effects these things had on an individual, their relationships with family and friends, and the strain it put on a marriage. I did not realize that all these pieces, these moments that I was questioning, were the effects of these invisible injuries.

About six months after my husband died, someone placed their prescription eye glasses on my face and asked me how everything appeared. I stated that everything looked fuzzy. That is when I realized that my husband saw everything in this fuzzy manner. Nothing appeared clear for him.

All of these little pieces, these little moments I kept questioning, were parts of a puzzle. After months of rearranging the pieces, researching, talking to doctors and veterans, I finally put all of the pieces together. The final picture that this puzzle provided, once complete, answered the who, what, when, where, why and how of the post-traumatic stress and traumatic brain injuries that claimed my husband's life. Part of completing that puzzle was fighting through my own struggle with mental illness caused by the loss of my husband and the tragic events that took place after his death.

That is when I found hope - when my flashlight turned on. The most healing aspects of it all have been the countless opportunities I have been given to pass hope, to hand over the flashlight, to someone else. I have decided that I will channel my grief into something bigger than myself. Since then, I have been able to speak words of hope and encouragement to veterans who are fighting this battle, pray with spouses and families of veterans for strength and guidance on supporting their loved ones during this journey, and to continue putting one foot in front of the other every single day. I continue to honor my husband by letting the aftermath of my loss be the flashlight for someone else.

I realize that staying silent does not make a difference in this suicide epidemic. Sharing my story, sharing my husband's story, could be what changes everything for someone else. It could be their flashlight moment. 

Ami Little, surviving spouse of Sgt. James Donald Little, III

seek Him

I will admit, this has been a rough week.  I knew it would be.  Moving is always exhausting, but this, this is emotionally exhausting.  I was, however, blessed to have Ryan's mother and brother here visiting and to spend time with them this weekend, hugs and tears together.  Then today the temperatures reached the 90's (a rarity for this coastal area!), so I decided to forego unpacking, and after church took Charlie and my nephews to the pool.  We had so much fun swimming and splashing together!  Then the kids and I just hung out at my sister's house until the kids' bedtimes.  We live eight houses away from each other - another blessing.  We always have fun together.  But it really feels like I have just been procrastinating or avoiding the hard work of grief still awaiting me.  Like it is lingering out there.  And so here I am in my new house, fighting anxiety over the waves of grief that roll through in the quiet hours.  I seriously felt tonight like I could not handle this, this "new normal," this missing Ryan so much I can't breath all over again, this grief.  What I wouldn't give to just see my Ryan walk through that door and hug him!  But he is not going to and I can't on this side of heaven.  And I do love the new house - but the problem is Ryan would have loved it too.  So I am pulling out my Bible and looking for comfort, for hope to cling to.  "How long, Lord?  How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and day after day have sorrow in my heart?  But I trust in your unfailing love, my heart rejoices in your salvation.  I will sing the Lord's praises, for has been good to me." (Ps. 13:1-2, 5-6).  Reflecting on God's love does not instantly remove my sorrow, but it does ease the pain and put my eyes towards the one who gives hope.  "I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits, and in his word I put my hope."  (Ps. 130:5).  And the hope God provides is not just wishful thinking; it is an absolute certainty.  I have said many times that God can bring good out of something horrific.  I think another way he will do that is by calling me to grow in some areas where before there was no growth.  This time of waiting and grief can be a time that I am intentional about listening and doing what God calls me to do.  With such a raw, tender heart, I am more perceptive of God's still small voice.  With a great need for comfort and relief from sorrow, I am expectant of His presence.  "The Lord is indeed close to the broken-hearted."  (Ps. 34:18).  I have learned that the experience of God's comfort is not automatic through.  If we draw near to God, He will draw near to us.  "Seek his face always."  (1 Chron. 16:11).  "He rewards those who earnestly seek him."  (Heb. 11:6).  We must be active in seeking.  Through grief, through losing my beloved, to not having my Ryan by my side, I have been brought suddenly and painfully to my knees in shock and sorrow, to the point that I had nothing left, but to seek Him.  And as I sought Him, he sought me back, with comfort.  My prayer is not to lose sight of that.  That even as my heart begins to heal and I learn to think of Ryan with joyful memories instead of this heartbreaking pain, that even in that transformation that I never stop actively seeking the one who performs that transformation that occurs in my heart.  That as my raw heart heals, that it does not harden or forget.  That I will ever praise Him who waits expectedly for us to seek Him.

on grief

moving day

Quick update, our household goods got delivered yesterday. The crew was there from 10am to 8pm, so a long day!  But I am so thankful it went smoothly.  We have had a lot of PCS crews and this one was one of the nicest.  A blessing.  I think I only teared up three times, once when they brought in Ryan's nightstand, once when a box came in labeled "husband's stuff," and a third time when the crew was assembling Kate's loft bed.  I overheard the workers commenting to each other on how awesome the bed was and how well made it is.  Ryan planned and built that bed for Kate - and it IS awesome and well-made.  I wish Ryan could have heard their compliments.  He was so humble, but would have like to hear their words.  Just so many emotions to process today.

Also, mid-day yesterday a second and third fire broke out on Vandenberg AFB.  They had already been battling a huge 10,000 acre blaze on South Base, where the SLC's (space launch centers) are located.  But these other two fires are on North Base, where a majority of the buildings, BX, commissary, housing are.  Thankfully housing is not in the path.  But only mission essential personnel are to be on base today, as a precaution.  Which means my sister and her husband get the day off to up me unpack...  :)  I put a few pictures of the view of the fire from our house below.  California just so badly needs rain.  If my Texas friends are reading this, will y'all send some of your rain this way??  And please pray for the hardworking firefighters who have put in so many long and dangerous hours this past week.  They are amazing.

The last thing I will share real quick is a blessing.  Yesterday evening our next door neighbors came by to introduce themselves, with a basket of warm bread and coffee.  They have two children, a daughter Kate's age and a son Charlie's age.  I almost cried and hugged them, because one of my prayers has been friends for Kate and Char.  But I thought a crying hug would be an awkward first impression, especially being the sweaty mess I was from moving - so I will just save that for another day.  You have to ease people into your craziness, right??  But it was just such a sweet blessing to have friendly neighbors welcome us.  

It is these little blessings, where God puts in on someone's heart to reach out, that bless us the most.  So I just encourage you all to smile at others, listen to God's gentle urge to step outside a comfort zone, and just know that your small kindnesses may go a lot further than you think.  My new neighbors probably have no idea at how much I needed a smile last night.

Now on to a weekend of unpacking, organizing, and probably a whole lot of emotions.  

today

This morning I am sitting for a few moments in our empty house, waiting for the moving van to show up at any minute.  A hug mixture of emotions today.  On top of that, we just got an offer on our house in Texas this morning. so it is under contract to sell as of today. Again, a huge mixture of emotions - relief, sadness, sigh.  That was supposed to be our "forever" house and now I sit in a "new forever" house.  Or I guess I should call it a "what God has given me in this season house," because life is unpredictable.  

And if that wasn't enough for my emotions to handle, Ryan's headstone is being delivered to the cemetery this morning, as well.  The mortuary just called to let me know.  And OSI contacted me to let me know they are wrapping up their investigation this week too.  That information is important to me because I think it will contain details that Ryan's squadrons could use to implement positive changes.  

So I truly feel as though the world is throwing all the emotional challenges it can at me in one big day!  I am thankful for these few quiet moments to sit and reflect and process before that big truck shows up and I am surrounded by the chaos of movers and family and unpacking.  Please pray for us today, it is a lot to process!  I hear the truck's engine now... here we go!  I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

let's be weak

"But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.'  Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me."  (2 Cor. 12:9)

"He has told you, O man, what is good;  And what does the Lord require of you.  But to do justice, to love kindness, And to walk humbly with your God?"  (Micah 6:8)

Sometimes I feel a bit out of my comfort zone sharing my thoughts on this blog.  Mostly I need to get my thoughts out of my head and typing helps me organize or make sense of the emotions.  I figure while I am journaling, I may as well share.  But then I see 2 Corinthians and I am reminded how important it is to be "real" with each other.  We all have weaknesses.  When we share them, we let others see God's strength working in and through us.  It is a beautiful testimony.  Much more beautiful than seeing someone who appears to have it all together in their own strength.  We are never called on to be strong or "tough it out" - we are called to show justice, kindness, and be humble.  

The strength part is not our job.  When my children were little, my oldest would always boss my youngest around or tell him what to do.  And I would remind her that it was "not her job."  She would be looking out for what was best for him, but when it turned into her being a little "mother" towards her baby brother, I would have to remind her that it was my job to set limits or discipline or correct, not hers.  It simply was not her job.  I think God wants us to understand that letting Him do His job is not always easy or natural, but we need to let Him.  His job is to be our power and strength.  Our job is to yield that responsibility to Him.

Every time I have a rough, emotional day where grief or sadness or anger takes over and I am able to focus on Him who finds it a joy to strengthen us, I give Him glory.  The weaker I am, the more I give Him to work with.  And, goodness, God has had a whole lot of room to work in my life these past few months.  So let's not be scared to show, or as Paul says, to boast about our weaknesses.  And let's be kind enough to one another to create safe places to be "weak" in front of each other.  I know I need that.  I bet you do too.  It is our way of letting God do His job and God uses that to bless each of us.

eternal focus

"Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.  For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.  So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal."  (2 Cor. 4:16-18)

keys

Today I am thankful for a smiley ten-year old boy who was super excited to be holding house keys.  He insisted on being the first to unlock the door.  I love this awesome kid.
I am praying that God surround this new home with angels and flood it with His comforting presence.  That it be a safe place for us to grieve and heal and laugh and cry together.

dancer girl

I just had to brag about my dancer girl real quick. Kate was upset we had to leave Texas right when she was about to earn her pointe shoes in ballet.  But she bravely visited a ballet school here in California over the summer and joined the class a few weeks ago. She loves to dance.  She always has.  She chose to join a ballet school here where she dances a minimum of four classes a week.  I thought it was a bit much, but she works hard and wanted to make the commitment, so I let her.  That, and the teacher is just super sweet - I love her cheerful attitude towards the girls.  But, in addition, Kate auditioned for the a Nutcracker ballet at a local dance company over the weekend.  And we found out last night she was given a roll!  She will be one of the dolls in the party scene.  She seems pretty excited about it and I am so happy for her.  It genuiely makes my heart happy to see her doing something she loves.  And I truly believe she will be dancing for her daddy while he is smiling down at his graceful, beautiful baby girl.  This picture was taken right before her performance this past May in Texas.

new address

Tomorrow we get the keys to our new house.  The moving truck arrives on Thursday.  My kids are super excited about getting their stuff and painting their rooms.  I am thankful for this beautiful house and the fact that it's down the street from my sister and her family.  We can walk back and forth to see her and my nephews.  The kids will have parks and a pool to swim.  My church home is ten minutes away.  And I love decorating, so setting up a house is always fun for me.  This house is a huge blessing and I am so, so thankful for it.

But with all that said, I am feeling so sad right now.  I seriously feel like if one more person congratulates me on the house or tells me how excited they are for me, that I will scream.  During all those years of moving state to state and going new places, I missed California and family.  Feeling homesick for family and "home," I prayed many times that we would receive orders to VAFB.  When we missed family gatherings, holidays, and my nephews' milestones, I ached.  When it was 115 degrees or I was shoveling snow, I missed the mild temperatures of the central coast.  But now those things I prayed for and desired have been given to me - just not in the way I ever wanted.  I would give it all up in a heartbeat for Ryan back.  

In fact I feel angry about being given these things in this way.  I know anger is one of the "stages of grief" and it is a normal feeling, as long as I don't get stuck in it.  But I don't do anger well.  Of all the things in the human heart, anger can be one of the most intense, destructive, and unhealthy emotions that we can experience.  I have said before I have a huge fear of anger.  I don't do anger.  I think this fear is because anger can cause me to say unloving things, things said in the frustration of the moment, and not the truth of my heart.  And words can hurt.  Like right now I just want to scream, "do not congratulate me on this stupid house!  I never wanted to be in this situation!  Do not tell me this is a good step forward when everything inside me wants to move backward!"  With this raw anger running wild, I have a lot of anxiety today that I may say something hurtful to those who truly mean well.  I just ask that you all have an extra measure of patience and forgiveness for me this week.  This week is very scary for me.  My type-A personality wants to be in control, but the anger and anxiety fuel a fear inside me that makes me feel out of control. 

But the truth is that God knows how difficult this situation is for me and He desires to bless me in my pain and fear.  Fulfilling those desires I had over the years and giving us this perfect house is His way of reaching out and comforting me amidst the pain.  He desires to give us good things and the desires of our heart.  And you precious friends congratulating me mean well, reminding me to try to see the bright side of a horrific situation that I am just having a hard time seeking today.  So I am thankful for all you precious friends who do see the world as "half full" and are reminding me of the blessings around me.  Because when I am thankful for blessings given and friends surrounding us, and when I praise our loving God in the storm (even the storm of grief and anger and confusion), it gets my focus up out of the pit and onto Him.  Him who loves us.  Him who desperately wants to comfort, love, and walk with us.  So this week I need desperately to get my focus on Him who is good and Him who gives strength to do hard things.  I just ask that you all pray for me to not lose focus of that goal this week.  And so please remind me of His goodness when I seem to forget and be forgiving when I slip up and the anger or fear seeps in this week ahead.

"Refrain from anger and turn from wrath; do not fret - it leads only to evil." (Ps. 37:8)

"Gladness and joy will overtake them; and sorrow and sighing will flee away.  I, even I, am he who comforts you."  (Isaiah 51:11-12)

Monday already?

It's Monday again?  I feel ya, Ollie, I feel ya...
  

stillness

On this day of rest, this is a really good article to read.  May God bless your Sunday with the peace and rest to just "be."

"Things come suitable to their time."  (Enid Bagnold)

Many of the messages that people in grief are given are in opposition to stillness… "carry on;" "keep your chin up;" "keep busy;" "I have someone for you to meet." Yet, the paradox for many grievers is that as they try to frantically move forward, they often lose their way.

As a companion, your capacity to be still with the mourner will help them honor the deeper voices of quiet wisdom. As Rainer Marie Rilke observed, "Everything is gestation and then bringing forth." In honoring stillness, you help the mourner rest for the journey.

Times of stillness are not anchored in a psychological need but in a spiritual necessity. A lack of stillness hastens confusion and disorientation and results in a waning of the spirit. If the mourner does not rest in stillness, they cannot and will not find their way out of the wilderness of grief. Stillness allows for movement from soul work to spirit work; it restores the life force.

Within the sanctuary of stillness, discernment that is bathed in grace and wisdom is born. Thus, one of my mantras as a caregiver is, "Go slow; there are no rewards for speed." Grief is only transformed when we honor the quiet forces of stillness.

WITHOUT STILLNESS

Without stillness the mourner cannot create the energy needed to embrace the work of mourning. In sitting with suffering in stillness, you make yourself available for those you companion to give voice to their grief. You become present to the insight and wisdom that comes forth only out of stillness. It's as if the stillness invites the head to settle gently in the heart.

Without stillness, the mourner lacks a foundation from which to, eventually, transform grief into renewed meaning and purpose. The mourner needs stillness to encounter the full force of the powerful nature of grief. Out of the stillness often comes the inspiration to be respectful of grief, to seek the wisdom of those who have gone before.

Observation has taught me that the integration of grief is borne out of stillness, not frantic movement forward. By saying no to the use of techniques to try to "make something happen," sacred space arises for things to happen; divine momentum is set in motion. When we stop managing grief, other things such as grace, wisdom, love and truth come forth.

In honoring stillness as a companion to someone in grief, you discover that spiritual forces evolve that discourage striving and encourage rest and eventual renewal. Attempting to consciously move forward, or worse yet, making any attempt to get a survivor to "let go," becomes counterproductive. Frantic movement forward depletes an already naturally malnourished soul. It is through stillness that one's soul is ever so slowly restored.

STILLNESS AND PAIN

As a companion, you will be well served to focus your heart's attention on the importance of stillness in relation to pain and suffering. If you do not perceive value in the role of pain in healing it will be all but impossible to be still with people in grief.

If you in any way perceive the pain of grief as unnecessary or inappropriate, you will be reluctant to be in the stillness. In stillness, you come face to face with the essence of grief and raw feelings of loss and profound sadness. At times, you will confront the dark night of the soul-a profound sense of spiritual deprivation wherein the person you are companioning may well question the very desire to go on living.

If you do not see that it is in hurting that we ultimately heal, you will greet stillness with anxiety and fear. Fearful of what you might find in the stillness, you will instinctively push stillness away, keeping yourself and the mourner busy with techniques intended to avoid the depth of a multitude of feelings. In stillness, as you stop and listen, you will hear and feel the emptiness that accompanies grief.

By contrast, if you surrender to the reality that pain and suffering are part of the healing journey, you can sit with the stillness. You can step back from any urge to fix the pain. You can appreciate and trust that out of the darkness will eventually come the light. You will see the underlying strength and wisdom that is borne out of respect for the stillness. You will come to see that it is out of the stillness that the person discovers that authentic mourning invites the blessings of living fully each and every day.

This article is excerpted from Dr. Alan Wolfelt's book Companioning the Bereaved: A Soulful Guide for Caregiver.

http://www.taps.org/blog/default.aspx?id=15184&blogid=42571

local fire

Watching this forest fire grow and rage out of control on Vandenberg AFB.  It started yesterday and we could see the hills glowing an eerie red last night.  It caused the rocket launch this weekend to be cancelled.  With California's severe drought, please pray for the firefighters and that they are able to get some containment on it quickly.  This is the view from our neighborhood.

 Updates on the fire here

AF birthday

Today is the 69th birthday of the United States Air Force.  Below is a picture we took a few years ago of the Air Force Memorial, in Arlington, Virginia, right outside the Pentagon.  It a memorial for the service and sacrifices of the men and women of the United States Air Force and its predecessor organizations.  The three memorial spires appear to be soaring; its array of stainless steel arcs against the sky evoke the image of the AF Thunderbird contrails, as they peel back in a precision 'bomb burst' maneuver.  But only three of the four contrails are depicted, as the absent fourth suggests the missing man maneuver, traditionally used at Air Force funeral fly-overs.

"To all who have climbed sunward and chased the shouting wind, America stops to say: your service and your sacrifice will be remembered forever, and honored in this place by the citizens of a free and grateful nation." - President George W. Bush at memorial acceptance ceremony 

Blessing for Falling into a New Layer of Grief

Blessing for Falling into a New Layer of Grief

You thought

you had hit

every layer possible,

that you had found

the far limit

of your sorrow,

of your grief.

Now the world falls

from beneath your feet

all over again,

as if the wound

were opening

for the first time,

only now with

an ache you recognize

as ancient.

Here is the time

for kindness—

your own, to yourself—

as you fall

and fall,

as you land hard

in this layer

that lies deeper than

you ever imagined

you could go.

Think of it as

a secret room—

this space

that has opened

before you,

that has opened

inside you,

though it may look

sharp in every corner

and sinister

no matter where

you turn.

Think of it as

a hidden chamber

in your heart

where you can stay

as long as you need,

where you will

find provision

you never wanted

but on which

your life will now

depend.

I want to tell you

there is treasure

even here—

that the sharp lines

that so match your scars

will lead

to solace;

that this space

that feels so foreign

will become for you

a shelter.

So let yourself fall.

It will not be

the last time,

but do not let this be

cause for fear.

These are the rooms

around which your

new home will grow—

the home of your heart,

the home of your life

that welcomes you

with such completeness,

opening and

opening and

opening itself to you,

no part of you

turned away.

© Jan Richardson

http://paintedprayerbook.com

Blessing for the Dailiness of Grief

Blessing for the Dailiness of Grief

Sorry I am

to say it,

but it is here,

most likely,

you will know the rending

most deeply.

It will take your breath away,

how the grieving waits for you

in the most ordinary moments.

It will wake

with your waking.

It will

sit itself down

with you at the table,

inhabiting the precise shape

of the emptiness

across from you.

It will walk down the street

with you

in the form of

no hand reaching out

to take yours.

It will stand alongside you

in every conversation,

nearly unbearable

in its silence

that fairly screams.

It will

brush its teeth

with you at night

and climb into bed

with you

when finally

you let go

of this day.

Even as it goes

always with you,

it will still manage

to startle you with

its presence,

causing you to weep

when you enter

the empty kitchen

in the morning,

when you spread fresh sheets

on the bed you shared,

when you walk out

through the door

alone

and pass back through it

likewise.

It is here

you will know it best—

in the moments

that made up the rhythm

of your days,

that fashioned the litany

of your life,

the togethering

you will never know

in the same way again.

But I will tell you

it is here, too,

that your solace lies.

It will wait for you

in those same moments

that stun you

with their sorrow.

I cannot tell you how,

but it will not cease

to carry you

in the cadence that has

forever altered

but whose echo will persist

with a stubbornness

that will surprise you,

bearing you along,

breathing with you still

through the terrible

and exquisite

ordinary days.

© Jan Richardson

http://paintedprayerbook.com

exchanging mourning for gladness

I just received an email from the mortuary that the VA has finished Ryan's headstone (yes, it usually takes 6-8 weeks to inscribe).  So sometime this week it will be delivered to the cemetery to be installed.  Sometimes I feel like I am doing well, like I am handling all of this with strength, but all it takes is seeing Ryan's date of death in writing, on a piece of mail, the endless paperwork, or inscribed in granite, to make me an emotional mess again.  This coupled with our move this next week really seems to be more than my emotions can handle.  Additionally, Charlie is sick with a fever and a cold.  I realized last night as I tucked an exhausted and weary little boy into bed, that I often took care of the kids when they were sick, but Ryan took care of me when I took care of the kids.  Like if I was up getting medicine and water and sitting with the kids at night, Ryan would bring me water and sit with me until I fell back asleep, he knew that taking care of me would help me take better care of the kids.  Beloved husband and father.  This is the first time one of them has been sick since Ryan's death and it is another wave of sadness and loss to get through.  God says He will turn our mourning into gladness.  He will give us comfort and joy instead of sorrow. (Jeremiah 31:13).  I think I just did not realize how many times, over and over, I would have to ask Him to trade in my sorrow for joy.  It is not a one-time process, where sorrow is suddenly gone and joy takes its permanent place, it is a daily exchange, a daily yielding, letting Him give the joy, after He walks with us through the next wave of sorrow. Daily. Sometimes hour by hour or minute by minute.

house prayers

I ask for extra prayers this next week.  Tomorrow is the final walk through on our house, Tuesday we get the keys, and Thursday of next week is the day TMO has scheduled the delivery of our household goods.  And I honestly do no know how I feel about it.  I think I feel kind of numb actually. The kids are excited about their rooms and having their stuff back after all this time. So I am happy for the kids.  And I truly do love the house - God blessed us with the perfect spot.  And I have done so many PCS's and unpacked and set up a house so many times (9 houses actually) that the process is very familiar to me.  But I have never done this without Ryan.  Well, actually we did move once while he was deployed overseas, but you know what I mean.  This time I have to unpack and set up a house without Ryan.
I was not present for the pack-out of our Texas home.  The military handled all of that for us, thankfully.  And I was told they did their best to pack Ryan's personal items in separate boxes, labeled well, so I could set them aside and unpack them as I feel ready.  But I know I am going to be hit with a flood of mixed emotions next week as I unpack our household goods, like unwrapping Ryan's favorite cereal bowl or the family pictures or just about everything we collected together over fifteen years of marriage.  Part of me is super excited to see it all and hold it, letting me soak in memories and feel close to Ryan.  I want to have his stuff near, the same way I sleep with his quilt every night.  It will be comforting.  But I am also having a huge amount of anxiety over missing Ryan so much that I won't be able to handle it.  And anxiety over what the house will "feel" like.  Will it be a new normal that I can adjust to or will Ryan's absense be so overwhelmingly apparent that only sadness will take grip?  I just don't know.  I guess my anxiety really just is that - that I don't know how I will feel next week as I unpack or in the following weeks as we settle in.  So prayers would be appreciated (and visitors welcome!).  Please pray that I am able to withstand the flood of emotions that the coming weeks will bring, for myself and the kids, whatever they may be.  And that I will know and feel God's sustaining arms in the times I can't take that difficult next step.  Pray that He use my weaknesses as an opportunity to provide and show His abundant strength.