Whatever is lovely… Think about such things

As I sit in silence, on a day off from work, I think about where I am sitting. I am sitting in a home of people I met just a few months ago, drinking from one of their mugs, lounging in one
of their plush chairs. Their home has become a place of rest for me. However, it’s strange to think that a year ago, I had not even crossed their paths. People who welcome you into their homes, that is the kingdom here on earth. It is lovely.
Walking into church last night, we had no expectation to meet new people. Most weeks, we quietly walk to our seats, sit down, and wait for the service to begin. Very rarely do people sit near us, but this week was different. God brought two different individuals into our lives. They had no connection to each other, other than meeting us. They each had a different story and each ended up at Door of Hope, that night, for very different reasons. But they were there. They sought the kingdom though church and sharing life with their neighbors. It was lovely.
Through the muck of life, it’s easy to get bogged down by what’s wrong. However, each day there is an opportunity to sit and think about whatever is lovely.

Good-byes

I hate saying good-bye. I am not very good at it. In the back of my mind, I’m always wondering if it might be the last words uttered between us. I don’t like the permanency. I hate that I might miss an opportunity. My dog truly encompasses my feelings. His eyes get sad and droopy. In the mean time, his cheeks sink down. He begs me to stay ten more minutes. I find myself doing a similar thing when saying good-bye to people I care about. The thought of losing another person in my life is too much for my heart to handle.
If only the people in my life knew how hard it is for me to say good-bye.

Mission

It’s Sunday night again. I am up way past the time I should’ve gone to bed. I dream of being on the mission field, writing about all that God is up to and the crazy adventure he has taken me on and all that he is teaching me.
When I read the blogs of my friends on overseas missions, I am inspired.
Then before I have a chance to fully articulate my desire for that too, I hear God affirming in my heart “but don’t you see, you are on mission. I have placed a classroom of students in your care. They are your mission field. Live every day as it is indeed your mission field.”
God has called me here, to my students. I have such an opportunity. I grow weary after days like Friday when I felt so disrespected. Some days are hard and I question my calling to teach, but oh is there purpose in every day!
Lack of sleep, feel inadequate, needing to depend on Jesus for strength, that is indeed a part of my world as a teacher. May I learn to lean on Jesus more.

Year 2

As the lights are turned off and the wrapping paper is recycled, I sit here reflecting on the last year. My emotions are so different than they were just 12 short months ago. The holiday season felt awkward, uncomfortable, and unfamiliar. I wasn’t sure who I was or where I belonged. The wind has shifted and the season has changed. Joy came fluttering back into my life. With the reintroduction of joy, I found myself again, beneath the rubble. My veins seem to pulse with excitement with what life may bring. Hope lingers on my breath. Life feels fresh. I am thankful for how faithful God is. I know that the grieving is not over, but I also know that God is with me/us in times of mourning and of dancing. I am thankful for the people has brought into my life, one person in particular. I know that our faith is not dependent on results, but it is so encouraging to know that God does, indeed, hear our prayers. I find myself not wanting to waste this season of joy. I want to lean on Him even more now. I don’t want to just call out to the Father when life is hard, but also seek Him outside of the valley. 

The house is quiet. Life is calm, right now. God is present. He will remain, no matter if those circumstances change. 

Change–Seasons, Life, People, the Coins Left Behind

With each new season, my soul becomes hopeful. With the coming of Autumn, a strange peace begins to take residence in my heart. I think it’s because it reminds me that life continues to change and the changing of leaves is beautiful. The leaves in my life are changing color. 

I feel like I always want to turn concrete things into metaphors, but today my thoughts desire simplicity. Recently, people have surprised me. Some of the unexpected things have been good. I cannot even begin to express how much warmth was brought to my being when my friend called me a couple of weeks ago.

“Hey Luci, I feel like I haven’t been there to hang out with you lately. I really like hanging out with you. Do you want to go get a coffee with me?” 

His thoughtfulness brought me validation. I felt wanted, appreciated, and for a moment I felt treasured. Those moments that sneak up on you are good. 

I wish all surprises in life were that good. But they are not. It is weird how quickly people back out on you. Why do people throw in the towel when they do not need to. Individuals give up so easily. What happened to perseverance? What happened to fighting for good relationship? Obstacles come our way, but they do not have to mean it is the end. However when life gets hard, we must decide if it is an obstacle or an end point. Many people in my life have decided that challenges are ending points. Relationships change. People change, but coins are left behind. 

When I reach into the front pocket of my purse, I find various coins. Each of these coins are what remains from purchases I have made. It seems like with every relationship, we invest our heart. No matter how long those relationships last, coins remain when they are gone. These coins do not bring sadness; but rather, remind us of where we have spent ourselves. Sometimes I wish I hadn’t expended as much of myself in people who did not appreciate the investment. But when I look at what I have left, I do not regret my investment. I do not want to love apprehensively. Love is not about what I get in return. 

I think that’s what I love about the coming of Autumn. People exuberate more warmth during this season of change. May that warmth carry on through out each changing season.  

Restoration

Ice-cold glass of water in hand and a bowl of green beans in reach remind me of my desire for restoration. It seems like I often try and fix things that aren’t the true needs that need to be addressed. I think to myself “I am so tired . . . must get coffee.” But after finishing off my second cup, I am still tired. I sought a quick fix, but it did not bring about a solution. I am restless, so I clean out my car. I search through a pile of photos. I go for a walk. I mow the lawn. My soul is still tired. I lay my head down for a nap. I awake groggy and even more down. Nothing seems to quell the storm within. Returning to things and people that have comforted me in the past, I feel no comfort. Turning on the television, my mind instantly wants it turned back off. There is no rest for the soul. I desire a fresh start, restoration. 

I stop seeking peace from people. I come to terms with the fact that I will still be weary after the coffee cup is empty. There comes a moment when one has to admit that she is in a battle. This battle will be fought with only one by her side who is truly reliable, Jesus. He consistently stands by her side. His schedule is never too busy. For some reason, I have neglected to fully recognize how much He is truly present by my side.  He did not cause this pain. He is grieving right along side of me. He desires wholeness for his daughter. It seems that my recent “introvert” time has been beneficial. I have been reminded that I have been seeking the wrong things and people to bring me peace. 

However, I do know that these people and things have been part of the process of being brought back to wholeness. God has used people in my life to help restore me. But in the end, he is the one doing the work. 

“Finally brothers, rejoice. Aim for restoration, comfort one another, agree with one another, live in peace; and the God of love and peace will be with you.” 2 Corinthians 13:11

I am aiming for restoration. I know the God of love and peace has been with me through it all. May I fully recognize his presence, whether  I am weaping over a pile of photographs or  sitting eating green beans and gulping down a cool glass of  fresh water. He is there. 

What now

The anniversary has passed. A new normal has taken residence. But it still doesn’t feel right. I don’t want this new normal. I want to be able to share my thoughts, my moments, and my life with my dad. I want to rush home and tell him everything that has taken place. I want to make him proud. Talking about him in the past tense still causes my heart to grow nauseaus. I did not ask for this; nor, would I ask this for someone else. I want to weap. I want to run. Rewind. Redo. Savor. I fear being alone forever because I understand the depths of pain that accompanies it. I desire a family that is whole. Sometimes I wish that I could shake people awake and say “Don’t you see? We do not have time to waste. We do not want to regret expending all our energy on things and grudges that do not matter.” I am tired. I am weary. I am happy. I am discontent. I am thankful. I cling to each moment. I hope for a future of joy. I dread the pains that may be on the horizon. My body becomes numb and my heart aches. I wonder “What now?” Where do I go from here? Who do I confide in? Why do some prayers remain unanswered? 13 months and 18 days. I’ve heard it said that one doesn’t pay as close attention to the time that has passed since losing a loved one after so much time. I have yet to experience that.

But the Lord is faithful, may I always remember that.

Laundry at Midnight

The gut begins to tighten. A flash of heat exerts itself on the forehead. Perspiration begins to gather. An overwhelming feeling of pain and numbness takes over. Tears begin to  trickle down the, all-too-familiar, cheeks. The body knows that grief has struck again. It appears out of nowhere in the strangest of moments. A breeze stirs up the scent of Spring. A math equation is calculated. A stranger walks by. None of the moments are related, but the sadness cares not. One has a choice at these moments to allow the despair to take over or to find something productive to do. At times it is necessary to face the storm, while other times it is just as important to avoid the storm at all cost.

Recently, I find myself experiencing such peace as I do laundry. In the moments I am folding my laundry it seems I feel close with God. It’s hard to explain why this is the case. It’s in the simplest times I feel him the most. While in other moments, I continue to busy myself until “he shows up,” so to speak. I don’t want to face the grief alone.

How do you come to turns with being alone? Yes, immediately after typing that question I can hear the multitude of responses that could be summarized simply “But, you’re never alone.” That is true; however, at times it feels that way. The busyness of menial tasks seem to distract me for a season from the pain and the grief that has the habit of showing up unexpectedly.

As usual my thoughts struggle to make sense of life.

The quiet, the empty, and the lonely

Plateau. Rewind. Repeat. Soon the speaker grows tired of the same words escaping her mouth. The words never come out clear. How does one explain how muddled she feels inside? How does she relay how she’s feeling to someone else when she herself doesn’t understand it?

It’s strange.

Some days are good. Some days are hard. Some days no words are quite fitting. Sadness doesn’t quite explain it, but it’s not depression either. It’s a heaviness. It’s a weight. But then there’s temporary forgetfulness.

Even with all the time that has passed, I find myself needing the same things I did when tragedy first hit. The things and people that brought comfort in April still bring calmness to my soul. Sitting on the ground. Not being surrounded by a crowd. Solitude. A friend holding my hand. Cups of coffee. Stillness.

On Sunday, I found myself in almost a panic because I was craving those things so much. I know they won’t really take away the pain, but they will bring peace for a moment.  Some of those things have been accessible, but I find myself lacking friends lately. Not because they have abandoned me, but because they don’t live nearby or they live a busy life too.

I know my thoughts aren’t clear, but I don’t know how to bring clarity.

My best friend (originally began July 30, 2011)

I often put deep thought into my facebook profile picture. The most recent photograph was chosen because it was the last Saturday before my dad died. I find myself staring into the girl’s eyes that once was me, I see joy and deep happiness. When I look in the mirror, I no longer see that same girl. Her eyes no longer hold the same glimmer.

I asked the boy I was babysitting the other day “who’s your best friend?” He replied “Nathan.” I have no idea who Nathan is, but this young boy considers him the dearest of friends. When one talks about one’s best friend, one’s eyes subtly leap for joy as treasured memories quickly splash through one’s mind. Instantaneously, you begin to chuckle about one of your many adventures or the humorous thing your best friend did recently.  My best friend has been gone for almost 7 months. I keep waiting for him to come back.

I hold all my friends tightly in my heart.