I Find Comfort That She Is Finding New Pieces Of Herself...

It’s a Monday.

Winter pervades.

It’s cold.

Literally speaking, it’s 17 degrees but feels like -2 due to the fact that the wind is blowing insanely out of the northwest at 27 miles per hour.

Can I wish for spring without rushing time away?

It is a Monday but it’s a different Monday just like my Sunday was a different Sunday. Last items tossed in the suitcase... Final go over of the infamous “list”... A few quick selfies... Luggage loaded... To church we headed. Normal Sunday morning activities, the arrival of an extra passenger & south we turned. Lots of good catch-up conversation, a quick stop for lunch & the trek to our appointed destination... Southwest Airlines drop-off. As of 2:50 yesterday afternoon when we (painstakingly) left Mal at the airport, Kyle & I began our first trial-run at what is referred to as “Empty Nesting”. (I’ll let you know at some point later our thoughts of what so many rave about...)

Yesterday morning as we convened for Sunday School & various people asked if Mal was ready for her adventure, I transparently shared that this is the first time Mal & I have been apart for many, many years. Like probably fifteen to be exact. (MaKayla’s first time “away” was when she & Dillon went on their honeymoon...) Yeah...we’ve been told we’re crazy & pathetic & foolish for not widening the gap a bit (or a lot) before “real world living”... But this is us & thus, a big step for both of Mal & I (and Kyle, too) given the reality that we spend nearly 24 hours a day together; seven days a week. Crazy again. Our definition of crazy, deep-seeded love. ♥

As we journeyed our way south, Dad gave the low-down on how the drop-off was to go... Pull up to the proper spot, quickly grab luggage from the trunk, swiftly say good-byes & depart. No lolly-gagging around. I knew it would be this way but inwardly I hoped... My momma heart wanted to walk her in, scope the terminal out, make sure security checks went smooth, take a look at the tarmac & plane & flight crew, & see to it that she was safely settled, but...no. That’s not how it works. At least in Dad’s world. I complied without argument. Shocked? Me, too.

I knew it was best for both Mal & Myself.

I promised no tears until we were out of sight so I hugged, cheek-kissed, said I love you’s & then embraced Dad one last time & weepingly whispered, “Please take good care of her...” I knew he would but I had to say it. Through tears of his own, he whispered back, “I will.” They turned & went their way... We turned & went ours.

Bittersweet.

As I reflect on the functioning of our family & how we arrived here... How we arrived to the reality of no time apart, I recount the time in life when God distinctly laid on Kyle’s heart the instruction that we were to homeschool our children. The instruction that I fought & resisted until all strength within me was gone & God firmly said to my spirit, “Submit to your husband, follow his lead & do this that I have instructed him to do.” From that point on, with every fiber of my being, I have been all in. Never did I realize the sacrifice that it would require yet never would I have imagined the gift it would be to my heart even still twenty-two years later. Good days... Gross days... Successful days & days of epic failure, I cherish them all. But with an unwavering resolve to function in such a way comes the commitment to the absolute loss of self. And I will be very honest to say that in that losing of self, there have been many days that I have looked at Kyle & said, “I don’t even know who I am anymore...” And I didn’t. And some days, I still don’t. In such a form of living one takes on the those surrounding them & often, there’s nothing left to live out of themselves. Please don’t take me wrong...I am not playing a martyr’s card here at all, but when one is all in they lose themselves as a means to clear an avenue to sufficiently nurture the others they are entrusted to cultivate & grow. Undergird & equip. Treasure & embrace. Sharpen & edify. Physically. Mentally. Spiritually. Emotionally. Giving everything I have & everything I am for those God appointed to my time on this earth. And I’m good with that. When I have such a short expanse of time here why would I want to live any moment of it for self?

And then when you add the years of Kyle’s struggling health to the mix & the innumerable days we spent away from MaKayla & Mal, we learned the heartache of distance & the beauty of togetherness. Through difficulty & miles we learned how much we loved the presence of the other & to appreciate one another on a deeper level. An already tightly woven strand was secured even more. ♥

So as I begin my first “solo day”, I again think back to days gone by... I reflect on how we arrived here... I give God thanks & praise for who our family is & how we operate. In the singleness of my dwelling, my heart genuinely delights in knowing that Mal is having the time of her life. In my aloneness, I find comfort that she is finding new pieces of herself. In her absence here, I find joy that she is blessing others with her presence there. In the quietness that pervades where I am, I smile at the chatter & excitement that resides where she is. And as I abide here in Missouri on this wintry Monday, I am incredibly blessed to know that my girl is soaking up some warm, Arizona sun while sharing moments & making sweet, intimate memories with Dad & Mom. Moments that will never be relived but will forever be a gift to her tender, precious heart. And mine. ♥

And yes...in my aloneness & quietness & singleness of dwelling, I am perfectly content & satisfied. My heart is abundantly full. ♥

This has been my life... And in losing mine, I have realized even more what Jesus did for me. What He gave for me. What He lost of Himself so that I could be sufficiently nurtured... Cultivated & grown. Undergirded & equipped. Treasured & embraced. Sharpened & edified. Complete. ♥

Oh...and yes...I am incredibly excited for this short, empty-nesting season with Kyle.

 ♥

Grief Is Not Measurable...It Just Is.

A year ago today we said our final goodbyes & reluctantly placed the physical being of my precious Grandma in a cold, dark grave. She, herself had already ascended to Heaven with Jesus, but the tangible part of her that we touched & held & embraced was laid to rest. The part that held cards & did crosswords. The entity that loved liver & onions & delighted in any activity that included hearts, spades, diamonds & clubs. The portion that always greeted me warmly & never failed to kiss me on the cheek. This has been the hardest, most painful year of my life thus far & just when I think I’m “getting over it”, a face, a word, a song, a memory happens.

Adjusting to her absence. 

Accepting her goneness. 
Missing her friendship. 

Reminding myself daily that ‘129’ is no longer a “home” to me nor does it inhabit belongings of “her”. Her furniture. Her clothing. Her mirror, her tweezers, her comforting scent. As I have keenly reflected these past days & weeks of a year ago & the slow & arduous steps of Grandma’s final journey Home, I am reminded of the reality of grief. As I look around me & see people I care about letting go of people they love, I am reminded of the reality of grief. As I walk alongside of people who have had lives they would have given their own for, ripped from their hands, I am reminded of the reality of grief. Yes, through Christ we have hope & peace & joy yet grief is a very real element of life & when one loves deeply, one grieves deeply.

Jesus knew grief intimately. 

No matter the age.
No matter the situation.
No matter the circumstances.

Grief is grief. 

It’s a dagger to the heart & an ever-draining leak to the spirit. It’s a literal nagging anguish that perpetually empties a person of the fullness that once was. And as damaging & unfortunate as it is, many carelessly slip into the dark & cavernous pit of “measuring” grief.

In light of themselves.
In light of others.

Grief is not measurable.
It just is.

Grief is grief. 

Some look at others & say, “Move on.” Others look at some & think, “Why can’t I move forward?” I’m finding that the nature of the relationship between the one who has left & the one who is left often determines how grief is processed.

Missing... Regret...
Void... Guilt...
Longing... Shame...
Purpose... Lost chances.

Just one more day to either embrace or to mend. 

And that deep, cavernous pit of measuring does nothing more than sink the heart further into greater hurt & heavier sorrow. I’ve been on both sides of where the measuring line lands...on one side of the stick is a heart of insensitive pride & on the other is lonely, internal isolation. Either failing to choose to understand the grief of a heart that is anguishing or being misunderstood in the relentless pain that lingers on.

Both are crippling... 

One doesn’t have to understand the grief to have compassion on the heart grieving. 

The grieving heart only longs to be understood & embraced & assured. And one doesn’t know that it’s understood until another says, “I may not know but I understand... I may not know but I see... I may not know but I will walk with you & beside you... No matter the time. No matter the distance. I am all in, I understand & I am here.”

This season of life continues for me & as it continues, I continue to learn. It costs nothing to understand & to assure & to love in the midst of heartache & grief.

Regardless of the situation...anticipated or sudden.
Regardless of the circumstances...terminal illness or trauma or suicide.
Regardless of the age...two or eighteen...twenty-three or forty...seventy or ninety-five.

Grief is grief. 

And even when a heart rejoices at the life lived & the moments embraced & the memories cherished, the heart grieves. It recounts. It misses.

It longs for just one more day...

...which after that one day would want one more and then another & then another. One day would never be enough so we accept what is, we give thanks for what was & with the hope of Christ at our helm, we move forward investing in others what we desire others to invest in us...understanding.

As I have journeyed this path, the grace of Jesus & the presence of the Holy Spirit have carried me & taught me. They have assured me & strengthened me. On many days They have been my only hope & peace. Grandma was so much more to me than a visit when it was convenient or an appearance when I was summoned...
She was purpose & friendship.
She was accountability & companionship.
She was steady & she was comfort.

She was home. ♥

The joy of the Lord IS my strength yet joy often doesn’t equate “happiness”. Peace, yes. Happiness, no. Some days the longing is just inexplicable & the tears are relentless. And as I continue grieving in my missing, I resolve to extend understanding to others who are trekking the same path.

Regardless the situation.
Regardless the circumstances.
Regardless the age.

No matter the time.
No matter the distance.

And on inclement days like today (much like the day of her burial), Grandma would have been calling me up in an attempt to convince Kyle that it just wasn’t wise to travel home & to cozy in with her where it was safe & warm. ♥