Grieving Is Not Linear

I was reading my devotional- but first, actually, I was on Instagram. For all of three minutes, and that was long enough to spike the heart rate, blood pressure, anxiety, and anger, when I felt God nudge me gently (may be not so gently) to NOT start the day this way, and to look up. 

So, I felt like not rebelling, and tried obedience instead, and moved on to my devotion. I’m doing a lot of devotions on grief right now, because I am, once again, in a season of heavy losses. I was incredibly sad when my mother and grandmother died within six weeks of each other in 2019. That grief cycle was expected, and very hard to process. The two most important women in my life were gone, and gone in the wrong order, and gone rather unexpectantly (in my mother’s case). The grief, sadness, and guilt I felt took forever to process. But GOD… and a very good therapist helped me process and got me back on my feet again. This time,,, it’s.. something else entirely.

I feel, most of the time lately, that life is just a mounting series of losses. Some people experienced them harder than others, some are more resilient, some are not. Growing up as a Navy Brat (represent!), I learned very early on to be resilient with moves every three years, changing schools, friendships, relationships, communities, etc. And I’m better for it. Growing up with faith, and in a church certainly formed a worldview that centered around things of Heaven, and not things of this temporary Earth. These types of grief and dealing with the day to day, year to year changes, and yes, sometimes losses, were easier to process, feel, and move on. Life is, after all, a circle of sorts.

But, one cannot escape grief.

THIS season, is so very hard. It is so very painful. I and my family are so hurting and confused and blindsided that not only are we sad, but we don’t understand. None of us. It’s like someone died, but she didn’t, and we don’t know why, because she won’t tell us or talk to us, and we can’t reach her. No one thinks she is OK, and it would appear that she doesn’t care that we are worried sick for her.

It’s hard to process grief, and sadness, when you can’t even comprehend the why behind it.

Which brings me to my Bible devotion this morning, and a little bit of an a-ha moment, a tiny epiphany, and maybe a little, quiet Hallelujah.

Jesus knew He was on Earth to die on the cross for us. He knew it His whole life- for thirtyish years, He was aware of God’s Plan, THE PLAN. 

The night before He was going to die, though, He took His best friends with Him to the garden and told them how scared He was- ‘grieved- even to the point of death.” Which, He knew was coming. His friends, I’m sure, were confused, but worried, and a little exhausted, obviously, because they fell asleep when He went further on without them to pray. 

Jesus asked His Father if there was any other way, if there was any conceivable notion to to change the part where He had to die on the cross, If, there was somehow, some possible way to escape this part of the story, could it possibly happen? 

Then Jesus says, “BUT Your way, not Mine, be done.”

Your way. Not mine. Even Jesus had to step forward in faith, trusting His Father’s will. 

God ALWAYS has a plan. Always. He sees me. He sees us. He sees her. He is in control.

I do NOT like right now. I do not feel like all is well with my soul- even though I sing it, hoping that if I sing and praise, and give the words to Heaven, that I’ll start to know in my head, what I do believe in my heart is true. I’m human, with very human thoughts and feelings, but I do know my faith, and my God is bigger than this.

I need to keep moving forward. I need to keep praying. I need to trust.

Thy will be done.

It is SO NOT EASY.

It still hurts. It still sucks. 

But, GOD.

Oh, January

As per usual, January was a s**t show (don’t let that picture fool you, it’s from February). I don’t know why we can’t have a calm January, but , there we were. Last year, January started with my worst bout of covid yet, a broken foot and a tree crashing through our house (that took months to fix). This year, the drama was more emotional, but still devastating, and I was  recovering from my second back surgery in three months. It was also one of our longest, coldest, iciest January months we’ve seen in these parts for quite a while- like two weeks in the twenties!

So, in February, when my husband got to travel to a warmer environment (say, like, Ft. Lauderdale), I asked if this was a can-your-wife-tag-along trip? He checked, and the answer was yes (yay!!)!! 

Praise God! For real! In all things, yes, even the trials, which is so hard, but, wow, was I happy for a little break! And, yes, I’m a comma girl.

So, I packed up all my sad, anxious thoughts sand put them in a Drop-Dead-Fred box, and prepared to head South. 

Of course, a few days before we flew, the terrible Potomac crash happened. I’m already a nervous flier, but this amped up those feelings, in addition to the overwhelming feelings of the tragedy of it all. Then the Pennsylvania crash happened. Terrible and Sad. Then there was another crash. Anxiety. What was also so somber feeling, is that we have peripheral connections to the community of the people involved in the crashes (and recovery efforts), especially the Potomac one. Passing the area where the recovery operations were set up was sobering, and from the airport we could see the crews, with their equipment, working out on the water.

When we finally took off, I was sobbing in my seat. It wasn’t from the fear or the anxiety, though. I could actually feel the heaviness and sorrow from the site on the Potomac. Being an empath is hard. Sometimes, these overwhelming feelings surprise me. Prayers.

Landing in Ft. Lauderdale was surreal. It was around 45 degrees when we left DC, and it was sunny and 76 degrees when we landed. Making sure the Drop-Dead-Fred box was secure on the shelf, I set out to seek active relaxation (so not good at that), continued recovery (nurses are the worst patients ever), and good old reflection and rest. 

It’s a work in progress. Trying to come to grip with the reality that one of my children is suffering greatly, and she blames me, and coming to terms with not being able to fix some things, is devastatingly, overwhelmingly painful. I know that it is not all me, and I know she is casting blame, and I know God loves her more than even I do, but… It is hard to be in this space. 

Along those lines, there is something about physically being in a different location to control-alt-delete. This trip was not about living it up in sunny Florida. This trip was a pause. A take a breath. A recharge (like, literally, I solar-paneled recharge). A long talk with Jesus.

It was good.

I know it is going to get worse before it gets better, and I am so not looking forward to it. However, as always, I do have my faith. And I don’t quit. 

Still…. I realize

Once again, I am looking to the hills, where my Help comes from, the Lord, the Maker of Heaven and Earth. I desperately am reminding myself of who I am, Whose I am, and Who loves me. I am drawn closest to God when I am hurting. I feel His presence most acutely when I am clinging desperately to His promises.

It’s been a ride, people. I swear, every year comes and goes and I think, “Geesh! Well, that was crazy!”

This year has been that and so much more. I have spent the greater part of today writing and publishing a pretty detailed, very painful, very private post about the last few months of this year and how they have impacted me. Then, in talking about said post with Mr. Mark, in which he (very rightly) pointed out how some of that information is nobody’s business, and what did I have to gain by putting “out there” on the internet for “everyone”? Needless to say, I took it down. My angsty mind and hurt, angry emotions were very much on board with “it’s my business, and whomever else has heard about it from other sources’ needs to hear about it from my point of view, and  if one is going to act a fool, and play me ass a fool even unwittingly, one may as well get the whole damn truth out there…”

Alas. here we are. Just know that when you get hurt by those whom you love the most, God still calls you to be His and act accordingly. No matter how hard that may be, I think it falls under the love your neighbor (your children, your family, your spouse) rule. Plus, acting out says something about your character. Good or bad. 

So, here is a little tidbit about mine:

Those of you who know me,  KNOW that I love fiercely. I am all in. One thousand percent. I have raised my family this way- with all the fierce love. I have made sure every one of my kids knows that they are loved fiercely. My friends know I love them fiercely, too. So, can I tell you exactly how I am so crushed and that I take it so personally when I am accused of anything less? Well, it sucks, for one. It hurts unbelievably to me that someone close to me could possibly fathom that I would not move mountains for them in a second if that is what is required for the situation. But, that is neither here nor there, apparently, because someone has forgotten who she is, Whose she is, and Who loves her (and I’m not talking about me, here).

Lesson of the year:

To be clear:

Remember who you are.

Remember Whose you are.

Remember Who loves you.

Parenting the Adults

I am, undeniably, more stressed parenting adult children, than I ever was parenting the kids when they were young. I think it’s because I had much more control of the situations that arose when they were younger. I also was able to parent with consequences that meant something when the kids were in various stages. You want the Wi-Fi password?- I’ll give it to you when you finish your chores…  You want your toy back?- finish your vegetables… You want to go out with your friends?- finish cleaning your room… and so on and so forth. I just don’t have that kind of leverage anymore. 

I have one, successively launched child, out of three. She still has her issues, and some of her choices are not mine. My middle girl, though, has finished her bachelors degree in four years, is engaged to be married, and paying her own bills. Super proud of her!!!

The oldest is on the list for housing through the community services board. He will get housing assistance because of his autism. The man child will be launched within the next few months. He has held the same job for several years, has a core group of a few friends, is a Mason, and plays Dungeons and Dragons. He’s come a long way, baby. He will still need support, but he’s come so far!

The youngest (the child that is that child) is still my toughest work in progress child. I know all of us are works in progress, but she is always my challenging kid. I love her fiercely, and she is the one that consumes all my worries. She makes dangerous choices, and is constantly on my mind. I think, often, that God is teaching me something big through my experiences with her, and I pray He shows me and my family through it.

The adult children are definitely on their own paths, and really, all three of them are in a different place spiritually and mentally than I would have wished for. My good friend said once that she had a hard time believing that these kids came out of our house and upbringing. How did this happen? I can only shrug, because this family they grew up in is a God believing, Christian family. At least one child is away from the faith, and another behaves in a decidedly not-following-faithful-living type of way. 

I’m sure that free will and adult choices are bound to differ from kid to kid, and parent to kid. It’s so hard though, to watch them struggle as they have made conscious choices to step back from the faith they were raised in. I get it that their minds and hearts are different than mine, but it kind of breaks my heart that they are each in their own different relationship with God. That my children have chosen to live in a way that is so different from how my husband and I raised them,  makes me feel sad. And a little desperate. It’s hard. I love them so very much. I want so much for them.

I also know that I don’t see the big picture, thank goodness! Praise God. For real.

I am proud, in different ways, for each of my adult kiddos. I truly see reflections of Jesus in all of them, and I have to remember that they are loved even more infinitely by God than I can ever imagine as a human. I’m grateful for that. While I may be in a constant stat of stress and worry on this side of Heaven, I am confident that all will be made right on the other side of Heaven.

But, mamas of adult children, God sees you. He is with you. Even to the end of the age.

Friday Musings

It’s been a long couple of weeks.

Living with chronic pain just really sucks sometimes, especially as I’m waiting for the relief of a steroid injection in my back. I always though I’d be too scared to resort to such things, but nerve pain is no joke. I got said shot on Monday, and have been improving since. Praise God!

Living with special needs kids is also no joke. Mothering is life, and life is not for the weak. I feel like our house has become a psych/rehab facility and I am caught between the space of being glad we can provide this for our child, and just wanting it to be …later. Over. When everything is right again. When the frontal lobe starts firing, and said child is ready to move out. It isn’t this week, that’s for sure.

I am feeling like I’m living in a combat zone, never knowing what around the next 5 minutes. Will there be a meltdown? Will there be more surprises about jobs, future living situations, boyfriends? The oldest wigs and flees the table when I make broccoli, and it’s on the menu for tonight; I have to prepare for that situation. Also, I’m tired of being the Uber for these kids (young adults) and ferrying them around to jobs, appointments, etc. Also: the grocery bill. My kids go through a bag of grapes in two days, and they are so expensive! It’s stressful trying to feed my family healthy stuff!!

I am weary. I know I’m not alone and what is happening at our house is not unique. It just feels that way.

Just breathe. And pray. 

AND… God. Always, God. Forever and ever, even till the end of time, He will be with us always. 

hang onto that:)

It’s Been Too Long…………..

 Wow, it’s been awhile. 

Too, too, too many things happening! I’ve had graduations, and travel, and a retiring husband/new job for the husband, plus all the ups and downs of life going on. And on. And- well, I know you get the point. 

                                                   

It’s hard to believe that this year, let alone, last year have gone by so quickly. I’ll say it again: I believe time is like a rubber band. The front edge (if you are pulling it back with your fingers) is slow and tight. when you release it, that band it goes faster and lighter. 

So, hello. This is me,now. Older, softer, (rounder). Still stressed. 

MY family is awesome, and ridiculous, and angsty, and hurting all at the same time. There are good hurts (the middle has graduated college and is engaged), and bad hurts (the baby is all.the.things.). And anticipated hurts (the oldest is on a long list of very few possibilities for supervised living). And the love is beautiful and terrible and desperate. I’ve loved the kids fiercely, and softly. Now, I love them desperately. How does that even happen? One day I’m doing my damndest to keep them safe, Then there  were the emotional teen years, and a whole other new kind of safety…

But people…

Shepherding adult children is a realm of safety that I could never have even fathomed! It’s terribly woeful. Especially difficult with kids who are doing the very opposite of all you have taught them. The love is crazy, difficult, and, yes, desperate for these kiddos. Aside from the heartbreak of their choosing to do things that are unsafe, or their doing of things that can easily invite the unsafe, there is no opportunity to control any aspect of their choices. It’s terrifying.

And, I’m exhausted.

And the love doesn’t go anywhere, it just changes.

Human beings, at least most human beings, don’t like big changes. It makes a lot of us uncomfortable- even the anticipated changes. However, when the changes are things like your child making scary choices, exhibiting scary behaviors, and therefore having scary consequences, the level and type of stress one (I) experiences, is overwhelming. At best.

So, the happy, joyful moments, even the ones with the challenging adult child, are just that: happy, joyful. But also weary. Being happy for this or that accomplishment is possible, but the back of the mind is running a loop of the stressful experiences, and frank failures that have occurred. This is true for all children, of course. But for those that have tried all the patience one can muster of their parents, the feeling becomes very cautious. 

That’s the story of it: when I’m forever cautiously optimistic, or cautiously answering the phone because I’m wondering if this is it - I’m just left with that feeling of fatigue. And, yes, sadness. 

But this: God sees me. He sees my family. He sees her, and her, and him. And HE keeps telling me that HE has it.

Not going to lie: it’s still hard to lay that down and trust that it’s all going to work out. My head knows it will, but my heart is trying to catch up.

Keep Calm, God is fighting the battles.