new year belovedness charter

Something we were required to do for my residency back in October was to write a personal “Beloved Charter.”  This is where you go back through your favorite Scriptures or select verses that spoke to your heart in some way and you rewrite them as God speaking directly to you.  The result is a deeply personal statement of God’s love towards yourself, grounded in the truth of God’s promises.  

The truth is that each of us are God’s own beloved children and writing this individual declaration is a way to let that truth sink deep into our hearts.  Rereading it daily can be a way to reaffirm our own belovedness each day.  Because until we know and can claim our own belovedness, we will have a difficult time loving others as Christ loves.  This exercise, of forming my beloved charter and reading over it, was transforming for me.  It reminds me daily of my identity in God’s eyes in such a beautiful way and the exact verses have even changed or evolved over time as God brings new promises to my awareness.  I wanted to share my current charter below, along with the verse references that I wrote it from at the bottom.  And as we start a new year, I urge you all to write your own charter.  Just look for verses that speak to you, write them down, and see what forms and how it changes.  The result will be a personal love letter just for you because you are God’s beloved child.

My Personal Beloved Charter:

“Jennifer, I am in your midst. I rejoice over you with gladness. I quiet you with my love (1). Why are you anxious? I know all your longings and your sighing is not hidden from me. Consider the lilies (2). With confidence draw near to the throne of grace (3). My grace is sufficient for you (4). I show the immeasurable riches of my grace in kindness toward you in Christ Jesus. It is my gift (5). I did not spare my son, but gave him up for you, how will I not also with him graciously give you all things (6). You are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you (7). In my book are written the days that were formed for you. Your soul knows it very well (8).”

References:

1) Zephaniah 3:17

2) Matthew 6:28 & Psalm 38:9

3)Hebrews 4:16

4) 2 Corinthians 12:9

5) Ephesians 2:7-8 

6) Romans 8:32

7) 1 Samual 26:24, John 16:27, Jeremiah 30:19

8) Psalm 139:16 & 14

Christmas - pain, joy, and hope

It is Christmas Eve today and I am struggling.  It has been exactly a year and a half, 18 full months to the day, since Ryan died.  As I wrap the gifts tonight from “Santa” for my children, I can not help but think of all the Christmas eves Ryan and I spent together after the kids were in bed, eating the cookies left out for Santa, filling the stockings, or wrapping last minute gifts.  I even think about that one year we both had the stomach flu and stayed up late building a play kitchen set for little Kate to have the next morning.  She was only a year and a half old and we seriously debated just telling her Christmas was the following week because we were so very sick!  But instead we pulled out the directions and took turns building pieces of that little pink play kitchen in between blowing noses and trips to the bathroom to throw up.  It was miserable and it became a joke for years afterward about how sick we were.  But somehow it was still a joyful memory because we were together and laughing about it.

This year I struggle because I miss Ryan and I am just plain mad he is not here with me.  I am upset I have to fill the stockings by myself and eat those stupid Santa cookies alone.  I am sad that the one person who could know or understand all those years of Christmas Eve memories is gone.  And as I do these things I realize this is the first Christmas I have spent alone.  Ever.  I mean the kids are here with me, but after they go to bed, I am alone.  Ryan was either with me every Christmas, or the couple years he deployed over the holiday, I stayed at my parents house or was able to visit Ryan at his location.  Ryan deployed quite a few times in our 15 years of marriage, but it was a huge blessing that it was almost never over Christmas - and almost always over Valentines!  (Another joke we had was to ask every Valentine’s Day where he would be because it was almost certainly never home.  Luckily it was not a holiday that “mattered” to us.). And last Christmas I stayed at my sister’s house because I was too fearful of being alone.  This year, however, I am in my own home though.  I saw friends at church earlier today and I will have family at my door for Christmas Day, but this evening, Christmas Eve, is my first by myself.  But I also have to say, I think this is good for me.  I think knowing I can “do Christmas” (or anything else) on my own is good for me.  It is good for my self confidence and it also builds compassion in my heart for those who struggle, are lonely, and grieve.  Sitting alone, letting the many tears flow freely, remembering and feeling, it is all good for me to go through.  We all need time to let the emotions flow freely, acknowledge the hurt, and let these painful things transform us, keeping our hearts tender and open to love, instead of hardening up in anger, fear, or self protection.  A feeling heart is a loving heart.  It is how God sees and cares for us and it is the only way to love.

UPDATE 1/15/18:  I took this post down after David and I broke up.  It just hurt too much to read these words I wrote below.  But I decided to put them back up because they were truly my thoughts and feelings at the time that I wrote them.  I had no idea that just a few weeks after writing them I would have a broken heart.  And that broken heart would trigger the grief my soul and emotions remember.  If you read my January 2018 post “in the valley” you can see how this post connects to that one.

Always one day at a time, one breathe at a time. 

The other thing is I have this Christmas too is a wonderful person I adore, who is joyful and wise and so caring.  His greatest gift to me has been allowing me to still love Ryan.  He has so patiently listened when I have needed to still tearfully grieve these past months.  He has put up with my pain, my emotions, and my fear (and even me stepping away from our relationship and before coming back to it last September).  He has been beyond compassionate to me, willing to be present with my children, and amazingly loving even when my actions have so often been less than lovable. 

So this year, as I sit in this quiet home, alone, I am not without love and hope.  I know God has faithfully walked with me through every step of the last 18 months, both the pain and the joy.  I am not ever truly alone.  I have my extended family nearby and am beyond thankful for all my sister has put aside to be there for me.  I have my precious Ryan in heaven, who I know loves me and I believe is watching over me.  I am blessed with hopeful plans and a new excitement for my much prayed-over future.  I have two amazing children, who also know that life is a balance of feeling the horrific pains of tragedy alongside the depths of true joy.  And I have a Savior who was born in a quiet little manger, very much alone with his tiny earthly family.  A Savior who knows loneliness, who knows grief, who knows joy, and who is the hope we can count on in and through everything, tonight, this Christmas Eve, and every day.  This Christmas my prayer is that we each know and feel the truth that we are God’s ceaseless spiritual beings, created for an eternal destiny, beloved by our Savior, and cared for by His limitless love.

That little kitchen set we built for Kate, 2004

Christmas 2012 memory

This photo popped up in one of those facebook memories today.  I had forgotten about this picture and I was just delighted to see it!  This was taken 5 years ago today as we were visiting California for Christmas and was taken in the lobby of the Pierpont Inn.  We were married in the garden of the Pierpont, at their cute little gazebo area.  Often when visiting California we would stop at the Pierpont to see our garden and walk around.  During this particular visit the inn was decorated for Christmas so we stopped by the fireplace here and asked one of the kids to take a picture of us.

Christmas pictures

I actually got around to taking pictures of my children and doing some Christmas cards this year.  Here are my two growing cuties (and the furbaby).      
                          Merry Christmas from the Sweeney Family!

skype grief ambush

When something triggers an unexpected wave of grief, it is often called a "grief ambush."  The weeks and months after Ryan's death were filled with these unending waves of grief - any familiar sound or memory or object could send me into a horrific wave of grief.  After awhile the waves become so familiar that you learn to recognize the wave, ride it out, and keep on keeping on.  It is part of just surviving.  With time the waves became fewer and further apart.  And at some point they just kind of taper off and largely disappear.  But occasionally something will still catch me by surprise and there arrives one of those familiar waves again.  I had not even realized how very long it had been since I have been hit by a strong wave of grief - a grief ambush - until just Thursday afternoon when I was blindsided by a fresh wave.
I had a skype meeting online on Thursday afternoon for one of the classes I am taking.  And for some reason I could not get the skype application to load on our desktop computer.  Knowing my meeting started in only a few minutes, I quickly grabbed our laptop computer and pulled up the skype account there.  Apparently I do not use skype or the laptop vey often because as I logged into the account, the call log still had, right near the top of the list, the call I had with Ryan on June 22, 2016.  It was a complete shock to see his name pop up on my screen like that!  I had to look closely at the date and realize what it meant.  This video call was the very last time I ever saw Ryan.  He died less than 48 hours later.  The call log says we talked for 48 minutes and 36 seconds that Wednesday afternoon.  (I blurred out the other contacts on the call log screenshot here for privacy.)  Seeing his name on that call log hit me like a ton of bricks. I took this screenshot of it, then quickly focused on my meeting, trying to hold back the huge wave of emotions hitting me to deal with after my meeting.
I did make it through the hour long skype meeting, despite my emotional brain fog.  And afterwards I closed out the skype application, not wanting to think about the call log and how seeing Ryan's name there had startled me so much.  But as I look back now at that screenshot from Thursday afternoon, I remember that conversation with Ryan - those precious 48 minutes and 36 seconds.  I remember telling Ryan about our day and how much we missed him and that we were looking forward to seeing him that weekend.  I remember him on the screen, sitting in our loft in our home in Texas talking to us, with the kids Legos and schoolwork table in the background behind him.  And I had no idea at the time of that conversation that I would never see him again.  I had no idea that would be our last skype conversation.  I had no idea that in those 48 minutes and 36 seconds he was beginning to battle the worst pain of his life and was somehow being so incredibly strong for us.  I had no idea that I would not get another chance to look him in the eye and say "I love you."  I did not even know we had talked for 48 minutes and 36 seconds - the exact length of the call was new information to me.  It hurts that I do not remember every detail of that conversation.  It hurts to see his name listed as a call contact that I can no longer call.  Every "last" is a source of pain.  I remember the weeks and weeks of pain, as I would wait for my cell phone to buzz with a call or a text for Ryan - my head knew it would never happen but it took my heart weeks to let that reality sink in.  Seeing his name on the call log this week kind of brought back that similar type of pain again. What I would not give to have another 48 minutes and 36 seconds to call that contact again.
The funny part though is that even though I feel pain from this grief ambush, I am almost glad to have it.  It has been months since something about Ryan has surprised me or caught me off guard like this.  I know that seeing his name pop up unexpectedly in places is going to happen less and less, as I have uncovered almost all the "surprises" or information I could collect.  It almost seems like another kind of grief to realize that the waves of grief are fading...  So I hang onto this little bit of pain, just for today, clinging to Ryan with one more "last" that I do not really want to let go of. 

quote

TAPS conference

Last weekend the kids and I took a quick trip down to a TAPS conference in San Diego.  Kate and Charlie attended Good Grief Camp for kids while there, just like they did in Washington DC this last May during our Memorial Day weekend trip.  Time spent in the company of other TAPS families is always a blessing and the love those mentors and leaders shower on my children just warms my heart more than I can say.  While the kids were at their camps, I attended a Peer Mentor training for the TAPS organization.  I guess I feel like I am at a place where I have attended the seminars myself in the past and it is now time to try to give back in some way.  So many others so selflessly reached out to me last year, especially at times when I felt like I simply could not, or did not want to, go on.  If I can somehow just be a shoulder for someone else, sharing their grief with them, I want to be able and be prepared to do that.  

What surprised me the most, however, was how much seeing others’ pain affected my view of myself.  I sat in on the first sharing group on Friday evening after we arrived.  It was seeing those new, first-time attendees arrive, raw with shock and new grief, that I realized how I had been that person at one point.  My peer mentor was there (she has become a good friend of mine) and she asked me to help a newbie that evening, as she was overwhelmed herself with helping others.  I found myself timid to approach this woman who was crying with fear and fresh grief.  But then the memory of that debilitating, all-consuming pain came flooding back to me and I just hugged her.  I hugged her while she cried and I listened.  Because those two gifts - a warm embrace and a listening ear - were what I most needed in the weeks and months after Ryan's death.  And as I listened to her sob, I remember and I felt that pain again.  Not in a way that consumed me, but like a foggy memory of the hurt I had felt, and do still feel, but mixed with the familiarity of learning to live with the pain.  And I know it sounds weird, but I felt thankful.  I think you do not realize how much you have changed until you have something to compare it to.  Kind of like when you look at a picture of your children and realize how much they have grown but you did not notice the growth day to day because the changes are so subtle and slow.  I have changed from the person I was a year and half ago, in small subtle ways that add up to huge changes over time.  Grief and tragedy change a person.  Seeing others walk a similar path of pain brought that reality to my awareness.  And I guess my hope is that maybe I can shine a ray of light into those feeling trapped in the darkness of their grief by showing them that they can keep taking steps forward and let the pain become a part of transforming them.  One day they will look back and be able to say they have learned to live with their pain in new ways too. 

Kate and Charlie spent the whole weekend in their age group camps, doing their “grief work” and playing on the beach with other kids and bonding with their military mentors.  While they were safely occupied there, I attended that sharing group Friday morning, a workshop Saturday morning, and then I decided to spend Saturday afternoon alone, just relaxing and reflecting on the shores of Mission Bay.  And somewhere in the middle of that afternoon, I realized I am no longer afraid of solitude.  After Ryan died I spent months feeling absolutely terrified of being alone.  Each step I took last year by myself - moving into my home, traveling, staying in a hotel, attending my school program, each new “thing” took so much energy to do because of the exhaustion of grief and fear.  But sitting on the beach, alone, this past Saturday, I realized I was no longer afraid.  I had easily driven down to San Diego, checked into our hotel, gotten the kids off to camp. and then instead of attending the afternoon seminar, I had chosen to sit alone on the beach because I wanted to.  Not only was I not afraid of being by myself, I had sought it out as a comfort and had not thought twice about doing things that even just a few months ago would have been very scary to me.  Sitting there by the water I realized what I had accomplished and how far I have gone - and I was just thankful.  Thankful for answered prayer, thankful for those that have been there for me when I needed them, thankful for God's healing, thankful for the peaceful solitude there beside the ocean, and thankful for how God has continued to use my grief to love and keep a tender heart, instead of building up walls of bitterness or fear. 

Sunday I spent the day in peer mentor training with other survivors who want to learn how to be there for those in their deepest time of need.  It felt good to connect with these precious others.  Those of us who have walked this horrific road of grief have a special bond, often unspoken, maybe just a knowing how difficult it can be to take the next breathe.  I left the training that afternoon feeling loved, empowered, and ready to help wherever I could.  I felt strong as I walked back to our hotel to check out and pick my kids up from camp, ready to drive home.  And maybe God knew I needed that strength for the afternoon.  I picked Kate up from camp first and as I walked up to get her and hear about her day, a man came rushing up to me.  He was Kate's group leader for the weekend.  Each camper gets paired one-on-one with a military mentor, someone who is usually active duty and volunteers their time for a whole weekend to just bond with and interact with a good grief kid.  And the pairs of mentors / kid mentees are divided into groups (by age) and led through activities by a group leader who has volunteered to be trained to help kids with grief.  I had met Kate's mentor for the weekend but not her group leader.  So when this man sought me out at pick up and rushed over to me, I was caught off guard.  He proceeded to tell me that he knew Ryan.  He had been Ryan's co-worker at WHCA (White House Communications Agency) during part of our time in Washington DC.  I was kind of in shock and listened as he teared up and hugged me.  He had no idea that Ryan had passed away and did not put it together until he saw Kate's name and started talking to her.  I thanked him for sharing and I left to go pick Charlie up from his camp. 

As I was getting Charlie, however, it truly dawned on me what had just happened.  I had met someone who knew Ryan and this was new information to me.  All the memories I have of Ryan I have replayed over and over and over in my head so many times.  It saddens me deeply that there will never be anything new to add to my memories.  Suddenly I was desperate to hear more from this man so after getting Charlie, I rushed back to Kate's camp and found him again.  I apologized that I had to think about what he said and I asked his name, where he had worked with Ryan, how long they had worked together, and a host of other questions.  Daniel shared that they had worked together briefly downtown during Ryan's time at the White House itself, before Ryan was transferred back to the WHCA travel team.  Ryan had LOVED that stretch of time downtown and Daniel shared that it was indeed a sweet, kind of unknown secret about how great that particular position was.  And I received a tiny bit of new information about Ryan.  No matter how small the words and new memories, I am just delighted to have anything new!  That poor man must have thought I was crazy to come back and question him and hug him, but he was so incredibly sweet to talk with me and share.  He even gave Kate his contact information and asked to keep in touch with us.  I left feeling overwhelmed with emotion by the surprise of the afternoon.  I struggled to hold back the tears spilling out, just to be able to drive ourselves home from San Diego that evening.  I mean what are the chances that a previous co-worker from DC would travel to California and be assigned as my daughter's group leader?  Again, I left feeling thankful.  Thankful for a fresh memory, a new friend, and surprise blessings. 







Kate at camp (spelling out TAPS)

Charlie and his mentor

Charlie with some of the TAPS mentors

Peer Mentor Training

TAPS San Diego Conference

our beloved Ryan on the memorial wall

memorial wall at the San Diego conference

the view at our conference

Ryan's former co-worker & Kate's group leader

Saturday afternoon

relaxing after a long day at camp



the awesome group four





so will I

A friend shared this amazing song, “So Will I (100 billion x)” performed by Tori Kelly (link below).  I absolutely love love it.

So Will I by Tori Kelly

God of creation
There at the start
Before the beginning of time
With no point of reference
You spoke to the dark
And fleshed out the wonder of light

And as You speak
A hundred billion galaxies are born
In the vapor of Your breath the planets form
If the stars were made to worship so will I
I can see Your heart in everything You’ve made
Every burning star
A signal fire of grace
If creation sings Your praises so will I

God of Your promise
You don’t speak in vain
No syllable empty or void
For once You have spoken
All nature and science
Follow the sound of Your voice

And as You speak
A hundred billion creatures catch Your breath
Evolving in pursuit of what You said
If it all reveals Your nature so will I
I can see Your heart in everything You say
Every painted sky
A canvas of Your grace
If creation still obeys You so will I
So will I
So will I

If the stars were made to worship so will I
If the mountains bow in reverence so will I
If the oceans roar Your greatness so will I
For if everything exists to lift You high so will I
If the wind goes where You send it so will I
If the rocks cry out in silence so will I
If the sum of all our praises still falls shy
Then we’ll sing again a hundred billion times

God of salvation
You chased down my heart
Through all of my failure and pride
On a hill You created
The light of the world
Abandoned in darkness to die

And as You speak
A hundred billion failures disappear
Where You lost Your life so I could find it here
If You left the grave behind You so will I
I can see Your heart in everything You’ve done
Every part designed in a work of art called love
If You gladly chose surrender so will I
I can see Your heart
Eight billion different ways
Every precious one
A child You died to save
If You gave Your life to love them so will I

Like You would again a hundred billion times
But what measure could amount to Your desire
You’re the One who never leaves the one behind

gorgeous evening beach walk,
if creation sings your praises, so will I

eternal life 🌅

I am reading the final chapter of Dallas Willard’s “Divine Conspiracy” and truthfully, I am going to be sad to finish this book.  It has been like a companion to me the last two months of study!  But in this final chapter, where Willard draws together conclusions on what our human future is to look like, he paints a picture of heaven and eternal life that I am so drawn to.  It is a picture of each human set free in a gorgeous universe, empowered to do what we want to do, actively and creatively.  Having finally developed the kind of character to be able to do so, we “shall shine brightly, like the sun, in the Kingdom of our Father” (Mt. 13:43).  It is a picture that both brings joy and meaning to our present lives, but also hope and anticipation of eternal life.  Below is my own paraphrase of Willard’s chapter on the human future in this universe: 

The present universe is only one element in God’s Kingdom but it is the one in which the Son of man is currently preparing for us to join him in his stunning surroundings, where He has been since the creation of the cosmos.  We will there actively participate in the future governance of the universe.  We will not just sit around looking at one another or God, but we will ‘reign with him’ in the endless ongoing creative work of God.  This is what each individual was intended for.  Our faithfulness over a ‘few things’ in the present develops the kind of character that can be entrusted to enter the joy of the Lord in the ‘many things.’  And the joy is the creation and care of what is good.  His plan for us, as apprentices to Jesus, is for us to develop to where we can then take our place in the ongoing creativity of the universe.  

If that is not an amazing picture of heaven, I do not know what is!  I remember about a year ago one of the members of my GriefShare group made a comment about he thought heaven sounded “boring.”  He had said if everything is so perfect, what will there be to do?  I think this chapter in Willard’s book addresses that question!  God desires us to join him in being creative, even empowering us with the ability to create and care over what we want to, because our souls, our personalities, our characters will have been developed into the kind of children of God who can participate in that Kingdom!  Just as we desire for our children to develop the kind of character where they can be empowered to use their creative gifts to do what they want, God desires this for us - to active and unimaginably creative with him!  This is what it means to be a disciple, or an apprentice, to Jesus- truly learning what Jesus does and then to be able to be like Jesus in his actions, here on earth and then on into eternity. 

This quote by George MacDonald is a gorgeous picture of our future:

“And in the perfect time, O perfect God,

When we are in our home, our natal home,

When joy shall carry every sacred load,

And from it’s life and peace no heart shall roam,

What if thou make us able to like thee-

To light with moons, to clothe with greenery,

To hang gold sunset o’er a rose and purple sea.”

evening walk - sky painted pink and blue at sunset

evening walk - God’s gorgeous sunset

Thanksgiving prayer

“When you sit down to eat, pray.  When you eat bread, do so thanking Him for being so generous to you.  If you drink wine, be mindful of Him who has given it to you for your pleasure and as a relief in sickness.  When you dress, thank Him for His kindness in providing you with clothes.  When you look at the sky and the beauty of the stars, throw yourself at God’s feet and adore Him who in His wisdom has arranged things in this way.  Similarly, when the sun goes down and when it rises, when you are asleep or awake, give thanks to God, who created and arranged all things for your benefit, to have you know, love and praise their Creator.”  - Saint Basil the Great

Happy Thanksgiving!

Let your roots grow down into him, and let your lives be built on him.  Then your faith will grow strong in the truth you were taught, and you will overflow with thankfulness.  (Colossians 2:7)

🍂🌻🍗🌾🦃🍁🌽💛

grief work

Please keep my sweet Charlie man in your prayers right now.  The next few months are going to be difficult for him.  He has been dealing with a lot and some of his buried grief is surfacing in ways that are so difficult for this mama’s heart to take.  Charlie started working with a grief counselor last month, very willingly.  He has been just a little down and sad, with intermittent episodes of anger.  I suspected he needed to talk about his daddy but that he is reluctant that I be the person he talks to because he fears making me cry or causing me to be sad.  He is such a tender-hearted boy, like his daddy.  And I sometimes forget that I had months and months of counseling and the support of my weekly GriefShare group at church to help me understand, process, and learn to move forward (not move on, just move forward) in healthy ways.  But my children, largely, have wanted to just be normal kids and were thriving with their routines and family support.  And my counselor assured this paranoid mama that that was okay.  Kids grieve differently and they may not even fully grieve until later in their lives.  I was told as long as they were doing well in friendships, in school, in social situations, etc,, to just let them grieve as they choose and to step in when/if their behavior were to shift towards anything not typical for their personalities.  Sometimes children really just need to find the security and stability of a routine and a new normal before they can feel safe enough to explore the difficult, deep emotions of a loss.  But that is where Charlie is at - he needs to address the issues buried down deep in his heart as they start to seep up.  The painful emotions can cause confusion and sorrow that my children may not have learned the skills to navigate on their own.  My heart aches that my sweet eleven year old has to navigate these at all, but Charlie is such a brave and strong boy.  He amazes me.  He and his counselor are tackling the emotions of grief, suicide, moving forward, sorrow, and acceptance.  It is important for my little guy to have guidance in sorting through these emotions and I am SO thankful for the amazing lady so dedicated to working with him through this.  His counselor is amazing and has put up with me asking a zillion questions with such love and grace.  I have come to pick Charlie up from a session to find both him and his counselor teary-eyed together but often playing a game too.  Sorrow and joy, always both together, that is life.  It is just so hard for my heart to know my children have felt such pain and loss in their lives.  If I could somehow take the pain for them, I would in a heartbeat.  Watching them struggle on their journeys is so much harder than my own journey often is.  So please keep Katherine and Charlie in your prayers, and especially my little Charlie man these next few months as he so bravely keeps returning to his counselor sessions to put in the hard work of grieving.  In my GriefShare group we called it “grief work” because it is so completely exhausting - mentally, physically, and emotionally - to pull up each emotion, fully feel it, and then put it into a healthy and truthful perspective.  I see the exhaustion on Charlie’s face.  Oh, I see it and it hurts my heart, but also makes me so proud of him.  The process, however, is so, so important.  So please pray protection over Charlie’s tender heart as he does his grief work, talks about difficult things that bring such sorrow and tears, and bravely learns the steps to sorting through those emotions in healthy and truthful ways.  

May God, our loving Father, bless and protect the precious hearts of my children, strengthen them in the most difficult of their sorrows, gently guide them to peace, truth, understanding, and joy, and comfort them through that arduous process with His abundantly loving presence. Amen. 

Veterans Day 2017 🐑 🏈

For Veterans Day 2017, Charlie and I were invited to attend the NFL Los Angeles Rams “Salute to Service” game against the Houston Texans.  Through the amazing TAPS organization Charlie was paired up with a player from the LA Rams who played Sunday’s game in Ryan’s memory, with Ryan’s initials on his helmet during the game.

On the Saturday before the game, we came to observe a special Rams practice where each family got to meet the player who was playing in their loved one’s memory.  Charlie was matched with Tanzel Smart #92, a super sweet rookie just drafted to the NFL from Louisiana.  He took the time to talk to Charlie about football, about Ryan, about his own family, and he told Charlie how much he appreciated him.  It was so sweet and really touched my heart to see this huge player bending down and giving my little guy a tender bear hug.  After the practice Charlie was given a matching helmet with Ryan’s initials on it that Tanzel Smart autographed for him.  And Tanzel also gave Char his practice gloves to keep.  I do not have any pictures from the pre-game day practice itself, as apparently professional football is VERY serious business and cameras were not allowed during practice in case we were actually Texan spies recording plays, but I did take plenty before and after the practice itself.  ;)   Charlie found this especially amusing and pointed out two Texas license plates in the parking lot of the practice field afterwards.  He is convinced that they were the vehicles of Texan spies... If so, luckily the spies were not very successful, as you will see from how the game went on Sunday... ;)

On Sunday, game day, we arrived at the LA Coliseum and were part of the pre-game torch lighting ceremony.  Neither Charlie nor I had ever been to a professional sporting event so it was awesome site to see the huge stadium, watch the players be announced, and be down near the field during the excitement!  After the pregame show, we were escorted to a suite where all the TAPS families got to watch the game together and eat yummy food.  Did I mention how amazing the TAPS organization is??  They completely spoil us with such awesome, well-organized events where we are able to remember and recognize our loved ones that have passed away.

Charlie actually surprised me by how excited he was about the whole football game!  He has seen a few games on TV (he is a huge Broncos fan) and he has played flag football with Scouts, but he usually loses interest after a quarter or so.  But maybe something about hearing the roar of the fans cheering in the stadium, watching the big Jumbotron TV thing, or just the excitement of so many energetic others packed together and surrounding us that Charlie was completely captivated!  The Rams were the first to score with a field goal but when Texas pulled ahead with a touchdown, I saw my little guy’s spirits sink.  I realized it would be really, really helpful to me if the Rams could pull out a win for Charlie...  and goodness, they did!  During the third quarter, they scored three touchdowns back-to-back and the stadium went wild!  And my little boy did too.  He looked at me during the fourth quarter and said, “Mom, I know the Texans don’t stand a chance to win at this point but I have to see how this ends!”  So we, of course, stayed to the end and celebrated the final score of 33-7!   

It was a precious day of some one-on-one mommy-son time and in memory of Ryan, acknowledging his sacrifice and honoring his memory.  Side note - Kate chose not to attend because sports, and especially football, are just “not her thing” but she did tune in on TV for a bit and seemed interested to hear Charlie tell her about his weekend.  And I can not think of a more rewarding way to have spent Veterans Day this year.  

Below are a few precious pictures of Ryan teaching Charlie how to play football a few years ago (probably fall of 2013) and a few pictures from our weekend with the Rams.

Charlie and Daddy, Bolling AFB, 2013 

Before the game

Charlie and Tanzel Smart

T

Littlest Rams fan 🐑 🏈 

Intent on watching the field

Charlie and Daddy, Bolling AFB, 2013

prayer request

I just wanted to ask for extra prayers this week.  I feel like I am at a vulnerable and new place right now, with a lot of decisions to make about my future that I am fearful about making.  

Two weeks ago I was at my first week long residency for the Renovare program (the second of the four will be in February) and it was such an amazing week.  I arrived at the residency full of anxiety over a new situation, new people, and a keen sense of being far outside of my comfort zone.  But I left at the end of that week full of hope, joy, and, surprising to me, a sense of healing.  During that week away from my “normal life,” I realized I am not only ready for more, I want more.  I want more than just keeping on keeping on.  Sixteen months ago Ryan had told me he wanted me to live for me.  For sixteen months I have been living for my children and existing because I have had no choice but to exist.  And that is not to say that I have not experienced moments of joy or fulfillment in the midst of all that.  But I have felt largely “lost,” for lack of a better word.  My life had been planned out (in my own head) for at least the next ten years and then Ryan’s unexpected death took those plans and dumped them out upside down all around me.  I have been living in the shadow of that heap of scattered plans and shattered dreams, wondering if or how I could ever want to “plan” again.  I have had hope, knowing that new plans and new paths would at some point open up for me, but I have been mostly waiting.  And waiting has been extremely important because healing needed to happen in that sacred space.  

But here, now, I find myself actually looking at my future for the first time in a new light.  New opportunities are opening up to me and I know I can not let fear be my decision maker.  But I feel like I have forgotten how to make wise decisions, or even just decisions at all.  It is easier to stay put where I am, but God often wants to move us up and out to something better.  Please pray for my heart and mind this week as I discern what that process looks like for me, facing the decisions and opportunities that are before me.  I know the decisions are mine to make but my prayer is that God transform my heart into the kind of person who makes decisions the way Jesus would, rooted in God’s love and power and peace. 

Phil 4:6-7 “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known unto God and the peace of God which passes all understanding shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus our Lord."

Psalm 29:11 “He will give strength & peace”

Psalm 85:8 “I will hear what God will speak... and He will speak peace”

Isaiah 26:3 “He will keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on Him”

Jeremiah 29:11 “His thoughts of us is for good, not for evil...for peace”

John 14:27 “Not to be afraid”

Romans 15:13 “To abound in hope”

1 Corinthians 14:33 “He is NOT the author of Confusion”

birthday kitten

I would like to introduce the newest edition to the Sweeney family... our new kitten (name tbd).  

There is a little bit of a story behind the adoption of this little guy, beyond just my complete lack of self control around adorable baby animals...  I swear Ryan was the voice of reason in our marriage; without him, I need to find a way to curb the urge to collect every furbaby or I may very likely become the crazy cat lady...  But the story behind this new guy... Back in October 2001, not too long after Ryan and I were married, Ryan got a kitten for me for my birthday.  Ryan had never particularly been an animal lover and he did not grow up in a house full of pets like I did, so him purchasing this kitten for me was really an act of love.  I can still I picture him looking at me and sighing, saying, “won’t a cat just claw up everything? Why do we need a cat?”  Being newly married and living in an apartment, we had talked about getting a dog but we were both working and we knew a dog would be too much responsibility for us.  And I really, really wanted a pet...  So for my birthday my sweet Ryan picked out an adorable little calico kitten for me, our precious Dana.  Here is the link to my post from October of last year, where I shared pictures of Dana over the years: Dana - October 2016 link

Side note: Truth be told, our actual first pet was a fish (one of those cool-looking fighting fishes with feathery blue fins) and the poor thing died in less than 24 hours.  We had not even named the fish before we found it belly up the next morning, so we had this running joke for years that his name was Weebit because he had only lived a wee bit.

So October 2001, Ryan picked out our tiny Dana kitten for me.  She was our first baby (sorry Weebit).  Dana eventually developed kidney disease and hyperthyroidism and she died this past October (October 26, 2016) at the age of 15.  

And actually I have to throw in another side note in here because this is a funny memory that I want to preserve... So my birthday in 2001 was on a Saturday and we adopted Dana from one of those adoption fairs at the Shreveport animal shelter early that Saturday morning.  By Sunday morning Dana had developed a kennel cough so bad she could barely lift her tiny head and she was not eating.  Ryan and I debated taking her to the weekend emergency vet clinic, but on a newlywed budget we realized we really needed to pray she would be okay and wait until we could go to the regular vet on Monday morning.  I remember Ryan staying up most of the night holding that tiny kitten, who was barely the size of a roll of socks, and being so concerned for her.  Dana did obviously recover and live a full life.  The following week that year though, I found out I was pregnant and expecting our precious Katherine Grace, who was born July 2002.  So our running joke throughout our marriage was that we tried to take care of a fish, but it died.  So we decided to adopt a cat instead - the cat almost almost died.  So we thought, let’s just have a kid and see how that works out!  It worked out well though, our precious Katherine survived our early years of figuring out the whole caregiving and parent thing...  

So now fast forward to 2017 and it is October and it is my birthday again and my sister lets me know that the local animal shelter has kittens... One of them looks a little bit like Dana and it was born the same week Dana had been born.  I remember how much Ryan absolutely loved his little Dana.  He would sit there and pet her and as she got old and frail, I remember him saying that Dana was not allowed to die.  And he actually looked up if a pet could be cloned so we would always have our Dana!  We joked that the clone would be named Dina.  Those sweet memories stick with me, and I mentioned how I have zero willpower around adorable baby Kitanimals, right??  So this new kitten is in memory of Dana.  

I was actually away at my school program residency during my birthday this year but when my sister was texting me picture of the kittens at the shelter, I gave her permission to go see if the one I liked was available.  And of course when I got home from my residency, my children were delighted to introduce me to my new kitten!  It must be a family genetic predisposition to obtain all things cute and furry though because my sister adopted the brother of my kitten as well.  These two kitten brothers are so adorable when we get them together to play.  Our puppy, Ollie, just adores his new little feline brother.  Our older cats, Sammy and Jake, have differing reactions.  Sammy is just cranky and avoids our other pets in general, preferring to sleep and eat in peace.  However, Jake, our orange stray cat from Washington DC, adores the kitten and watches over him and plays with him.  And the animals in our house bring smiles and joy as the children and I watch their crazy antics.  I can just picture Ryan both adoring the new kitten (the closest I could come to our idea about a Dana clone) but also probably shaking his head, smiling with amusement and confusion, as he thinks that someone needs to stop Jen’s obsession with baby animal collecting... 

New kitten and Ollie

Kitten brothers 

Weight of Glory

C.S. Lewis preached this sermon in the Church of St Mary the Virgin, Oxford, on June 8, 1942.  It is amazing and worth the time to read the nine pages (probably several times over).  It goes with Dallas Willard’s assertion that we are indeed “unceasing spiritual beings with an eternal destiny in God’s great universe.”

Weight of Glory by C.S. Lewis

what is the gospel?

“In the Gospels… ‘the gospel’ is the good news of the presence and availability of life in the kingdom, now and forever, through reliance on Jesus the Anointed.”  - Dallas Willard in the Divine Conspiracy.

I absolutely LOVE this description that Willard gives for “the gospel” as the presence and availability of God’s kingdom, here and now, on earth, in our presence condition and in our present life.  I think it is the most accurate description I have heard for defining the gospel because it meets the fundamental need we as humans so deeply and intrinsically crave for love, for connection, and for relationship.  And the description gives us a person to rely on in order to step into and grasp the reality of that good news.  What a loving God that his Kingdom is available to us - the same one that has always existed in the form of Trinitarian relationship, was available to Jesus on earth, was embodied by Jesus, and is now provided for us out of the Trinity’s abundant love!  The idea of all that comforts my soul and my longings in the deepest way possible.  This definition is so hopeful and life-giving and brings a new meaning to the words “repent and believe the good news!”  Where the word “repent” simply means “turn around.”  It is like God is saying, “I am right here, as close the air around you, just turn around.  Turn around, see me, believe in me, no strings attached, and all this great love I possess will be showered upon you because it is for you!”

I also find it curious but important to note that Willard explains how the gospel is available, but not forced.  The individual human heart is a place where God’s will is currently permitted to be absent.  God’s kingdom pervades and governs the whole physical universe surrounding us and yet the parts of our planet earth that are occupied by humans, deep within our human hearts, can be slightly excepted from this governance for a while if we choose not to embrace, or do not understand, what is being offered to us to actually embrace.  I am just reminded each time I read Willard’s description how much every person needs to hear the simple but powerful message that God is available to them - now, abundantly, lovingly, and powerfully.  Understanding this as the good news of the gospel is what lets us turn around and base our lives on the “remarkable new opportunity” Willard teaches us about.  What joy!

Caravaggio's "Calling of Saint Matthew"

precious keepsakes

One of my goals for awhile has been to clean out my garage.  Ever since we moved in last September, the garage became the place where we put "stuff" when we did not know what to do with it.  That is what garages are for, right?  It is also where I had the movers place the boxes full of Ryan's belongings when we moved into our house.  There were four good-sized boxes out there simply labeled "husband's stuff" by the packers in Texas when they packed us out.  I was not in Texas for the pack-out of our home there, it was all done for us by the Air Force.  Our belongings were put into storage until I bought a house in September and asked them to deliver our household goods to us here.  I had, however, specifically asked the packers and movers to put anything readily identifiable as Ryan's into separate, labeled boxes so I could choose to open them at a later date.  A year ago, unpacking all of our mutual belongings just to set up my new home was a difficult enough process without having to go through items like Ryan's clothes, personal items, and military gear.  

But sometime last winter or spring, I set a goal to clean out my garage and eventually go through those boxes over the summer.  By August I still had not, mostly because summer was SO much busier than I had anticipated, with travel, beach days, visiting friends, etc..  But sometime in mid August I found a spare weekend to tackle the project.  My sister came over and we went through Ryan's boxes and I cleaned and organized the entire garage.  I put most of his military gear and uniforms into a deployment bag to store in case the children want those items one day.  And I gave most of the little items, like his pocketknife, football, and random keepsake items to Charlie, who wanted all of it.  I ran across Ryan's dog tags and Charlie started wearing those around his own neck.  In fact over the last two months, I can tell when Charlie is missing his Daddy, because those dog tags come back out.  He seems to wear them when he is feeling sad.

And lastly, I went through all of Ryan's clothes.  I pulled out things that did not have a special significance to me, like his jeans, gym clothes, or socks, to be donated.  But I had a few special "projects" in mind that I wanted done with the rest of Ryan's clothes.  I sent three of his very favorite shirts to a friend of a friend who makes the most adorable stuffed bears out of clothes (thank you, Chris and Clo!!).  She made two adorable bears for each of my children, and they can add their daddy's pins, ribbons, or patches to them.  And I sent three jackets to another lady who makes huggable pillows out of clothing items (thank you, Melissa!).  She made a pillow for each of us, the kids and I.  And lastly, I sent a HUGE box of the rest of Ryan's most commonly worn shirts, along with several uniforms to a lady who makes the most beautiful memorial quilts out of the items (thank you SO much, Tammy!!).  She made four quilts, one for me, each of the children, and one for Ryan's mother.  (link to Tammy’s Etsy site)

I sent all these clothing items out in late August and I was pretty proud of myself for having finally gone through those boxes.  All of September each of those precious ladies I mentioned above worked on these projects for me.  And last week two of the projects arrived on my doorstep, with the third one arriving today.  I peeked in each box when they arrived and was overcome with more emotion than I suspected I would be.  The familiar sight of those precious clothing articles both comforted me in an amazing way and also made me sorrowful in a new way, both at the same time.  I spent some time just looking at and running my fingers over each item.  I love them. 

I plan to give these items to my children this week.  Kate and Charlie both knew I had a sent Ryan's articles away for a few projects but they had not seen them yet.  I got sneak peaks by the ladies sewing these precious gifts throughout the past few weeks, as they would text me pictures of the works in progress or text me with suggestions to choose from.  I am so blessed by how lovely these women were to work with, and the care and compassion they put into honoring Ryan with these bears, pillows, and quilts.  It was such a bittersweet experience to see these come together and now I find myself both excited to finally have and cherish the finished items, and also slightly sad the process is now complete and finished.  Below are pictures of these precious items that I just love!

these bears are made from three of Ryan's favorite shirts



made from Ryan's jackets, with his actual signature on the note

Charlie's quilt

Kate's quilt

Kate's quilt

Charlie's quilt

my quilt