My Refuge and Strength

“God is our refuge and
strength, a very present help in trouble.”    
Psalm 46:1

Every time I read Psalm 46:1 since my husband, Dave, died, I add to the end of the verse – “a very present help in trouble and grief.”  God has been my refuge – my safe place – throughout my life.  I recognize the deep need in my grief to find a safe place – a place I can release my grief.  God is my refuge –where I run to in my grief not away from my grief.  God has been and will continue to be my constant companion on this journey.

Over the time since Dave has been gone, I have learned not to run away from my grief but to accept the feelings and emotions as a part of who I am now. God has used my own grief to help others.  I have found purpose and meaning in what I have gone through.

Sometimes in our grief, we need someone to blame for our loss, hurt and pain.  We may become angry at God for taking our loved one and causing our pain.  I have learned that God is a big God and understands our anger.  When we express our anger to God, we are still expressing our faith in God.  You cannot be angry at someone that does not exist.

As we step into a new year, God continues to be our refuge – our place of safety and also our strength.  We do not face one moment alone.  We walk into this different life knowing God gives us strength for each moment when we focus on His Presence.  The grief will overwhelm us at times.  We accept that we feel the intensity of our loss and therefore need to give ourselves permission to feel the pain and the sorrow.  Then we focus on God’s strength to hold us and take us through the moment.

I am not alone in 2020.  God is beside me.  I can step into other people’s lives and family units and experience the fellowship and love of other people.  Other times I will be alone with God.  I am never by myself.  Fear though creeps in telling me, “You are all alone.”  But fear is a liar.  While I don’t have my person – Dave –
physically with me, I have his love always in my heart.  God takes me by the hand reminding me I will never be alone.  God walks with me into this New Year and already has good adventures planned for me to do.

I am going to focus on the good and positive for 2020.  How about you?  Let us receive the words of encouragement, support, love and affirmation from others.  Absorb these good words into your soul where there is emptiness.  I’m going to pour all of this into my soul along with God’s Word, love and Presence. 
Let’s do this together.  Let’s let go of bad memories and celebrate the love and legacy of those who have come before us and are now in heaven.  We will still grieve, but we will also celebrate the gift of life

God is my safe place.  I am stepping into this New Year holding God’s hand and relying on God’s strength to carry me through the troubles and grief. 

Hope

“We know that these troubles produce patience.  And patience produces
character, and character produces hope.  And this hope will never disappoint us, because God has poured out his love to fill our hearts.”            Romans 5:3-5

As we close the door on 2019 and begin to put away the Christmas décor, our thoughts turn to a new year.  In our grief we may think it is too difficult to look forward to another year without our loved one.  The new year is filled with a different kind of hope.

Hope is what we look forward to.  We cannot see it or even at times believe that hope is still possible in our lives.  In our grief it is hard to believe that we will get through the deep hurt, struggle and the changes.  In our grief, we have a hope of a hope which comes from our faith.  Faith that was present within us before the grief.  When we are grounded in Jesus, we know hope is possible even in the midst of any struggle of life.   Faith and hope are more than a feeling.  It is believing even when we cannot see or feel it.

Hope is not Christmas magic or a fairy tale type of faith.  Hope does not mean that life will go back to normal.  There is no going back and no normal.  This is the life we each have now. We did not choose the grief and the life we have now, but it is what we have now.  Hope is not finding inner strength and pulling yourself up by yourself.  That is not possible to sustain for very long.

Hope is reaching out in the darkness.  The darkness of sadness, anger, hurt and loneliness.  But still reaching out knowing God is there somewhere in the darkness of our lives and God holds our hand.   God comforts us, sustains us, and sits beside us as we cry and grieve.

Hope is believing even in your sadness and loneliness that God loves you.  Jesus brings light into the darkness of grief.  Jesus does not take away the grief, but brings hope into our grief.  You will grieve the rest of your life for your loved one.  Where there is deep love, there is grief. 

The season of Christmas is a season of hope.  Jesus comes into the darkness of the world and lives to give us hope that this world is not all there is.  When our loved one dies and leaves this world, the coming of Jesus tells us this is not the end but the beginning of a new life in heaven.  The New Year is a time of hope.  How do I live in this new year and honor the life and legacy of my loved one?

“For God so loved the world that he gave his only son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but
have eternal life.”                                John 3:16

 God loves you and me so much that He sent Jesus into the world to be born like us and experience life like we do.  Jesus was born for the purpose of dying for us and giving to us the gift of salvation and the forgiveness of sin.  Jesus conquered death and pain and sorrow and gives us the hope of heaven.

We will see our loved ones again.  That is the hope that is born at Christmas.  Death is not the end, but the beginning of eternal life.  As we prepare for a new year – 2020 – may we have hope.  Hope that you believe you are never alone.  Hope in this different life.  Hope that God is with you and opens new opportunities and places on your path and new friendships and new ways to serve.

Hope.

A Different Christmas

“But Mary kept all these things, pondering them in her heart.”                    Luke 2:19

On December 23rd when I was fourteen years old, our farm home was destroyed by fire.  It was Christmas Sunday, and my family was at worship celebrating with our church family the joy of Christmas.  I remember the details of that day from the time a neighbor came into the church to tell my dad our house was on fire until the evening going home with my sister and her husband not knowing where I would live.

The community rallied around our family providing food, clothing, Christmas gifts and shelter for my parents to stay on the farm to tend the animals.  Everything I had own for 14 years was gone with only pictures rescued by the firemen remaining of the memories of childhood.  Everyone in my family was safe and from that day my view of material possessions changed. 

It was a different Christmas that year.

In my second year as Associate Minister in Marysville, a winter storm on Christmas Eve closed travel on Christmas day.  I had enjoyed Christmas Eve with my church family and was looking forward to spending Christmas day with my mom and dad and extended family.  But travel was impossible.  It was going to be the first Christmas without celebrating with my parents and siblings.  I was invited to the Senior Minister’s home to share Christmas dinner and family time with them.  It was good to be with someone’s family, but it was not the same.

It was a different Christmas that year.

Christmas, 2015, was the first Christmas without Dave.  It was only 3 months after Dave had died, and I was still numb and just wanted to get through Christmas.  A friend helped me decorate the Christmas tree that was left by the previous condo owner.  The tree was on the sun porch.  It was decorated but I kept the curtain drawn to the tree and never looked at it again.  I had Christmas dinner with Dave’s children and grandchildren.  The emptiness of the time together was intense.  Dave was always the center of the family gathering. I had dinner with friends that evening, too. 

It was a different Christmas that year.

Christmas, 2017, I had moved to my hometown and was trying to start a new life.  I had gone back to the familiar people and location to heal and re-group.  I spent that Christmas with my sister’s family and one of my brother’s family.  I had dinner, conversation, presents and even sang Christmas carols.  I was in the moment and with family, but felt disconnected and different.

It was a different Christmas that year.

Now it is 2019, and I am in my second Christmas living beside the friends who invited me into their home the first Christmas after Dave died.  I have some decorations around my place.  My neighbor, Greg, put up lights outside.  Today, there is snow on the ground.  It looks like the Christmas season.  I have been in worship during this month of December and sang Christmas carols, and Christmas music is playing in the background as I write.  I have driven around the area at night and enjoyed the Christmas lights.  I drove by the homes where Dave and I lived, and the memories flooded my heart and mind.  I am so thankful for the memories but so sad no new memories will be made with Dave.

It is a different Christmas this year.

Different isn’t bad, it is just different.  In each different Christmas, I have learned lessons from God.  I have walked the journey to Bethlehem and know Christmas is not about how I celebrate it or even who I am with, Christmas is about Jesus.  It is about Jesus coming anew into my heart and life.  I recognize I am different because of each Christmas, but I am different also because of how I open my heart each Christmas to Jesus.  Jesus lives in my heart and is with me in each different.  So like Mary, I keep pondering in my heart each different Christmas and drawing closer to Jesus on this journey.

Loneliness of Christmas

“Have mercy on me because I
am lonely and hurting.”        Psalm 25:16

I love Christmas, always have and always will.  I love the true meaning of Christmas – God loved us so much that He sent His Son into the world to be born like us so that Jesus could be the perfect sacrifice for our sins.  Christmas means God comes to us in the darkness of our lives and brings the light of Jesus.

I love the traditional Christmas hymns – “Silent Night”, “Away In A Manger”, “O, Come All Ye Faithful”, “Joy To The World”, “Go Tell It On The Mountain” and so many more.  I have sung these Christmas hymns in every Church and Christmas caroling as a youth and with youth groups.  The songs tell the Christmas story of God’s love.  I remember every Christmas program in elementary school ended with the whole school singing “Let There Be Peace On Earth.”

I have enjoyed Advent, the lighting of the Advent wreath and the expectancy of the coming of Jesus.  Worship and fellowship with church family has been the center of Christmas all my life.  As a child, I loved Christmas Eve worship and Christmas Sunday celebrating with my extended church family.  As a pastor, I loved Christmas Eve and spending my whole day at church celebrating with church family.  When I worked for Hospice, I always volunteered to work Christmas and loved making calls on families and bringing hope in the midst of their darkness.

The loneliness of Christmas comes in the way society celebrates Christmas by leaving out Jesus and the expectations that come with the season that everything needs to be perfect – the perfect decorations, gifts, family and meal.  I have become aware of the loneliness that Christmas brings in my own grief. Some of the people who I enjoyed being with each Christmas are now in heaven.  I notice how people celebrate within their family unit and those who are alone because of loss by death or divorce or who are single are not invited into other family celebrations.  But the loneliness is most evident within the heart – what is deep within and rarely spoken aloud.

I love the Christmas lights, concerts, parties, decorations and baking, but grief makes us numb to the beauty and joy of traditions and celebrations.  It is not that we don’t enjoy the traditions. We just miss sharing them with those we love who made the moments so special.

As a child my Grandma, Mom and Dad were the people who made Christmas special and who I wanted to be with at Christmas.  As an adult, I still had my parents and we had our special moments just the three of us before the family celebration.  After they passed, I had my husband to share the moments I loved about Christmas.  After Dave died, I had my dear friend, Ruth, who claimed me as her granddaughter.  We shared Christmas moments together and were connected in heart and spirit.  This year, Ruth is celebrating Christmas in Heaven along with Dave, my parents, grandparents and a host of special family and friends.  This fills my heart with joy and hope for them.  My loneliness at Christmas is mingled with joy for my loved ones.  Sadness they are not here, but joy that they are celebrating with Jesus.

I still love Christmas.   I love the hymns, the lights, the decorations and the moments of hope, but I especially feel the loneliness without the people who made the moments so special. I want to celebrate and enjoy the Christmas season, but I want to share it with those who are no longer physically with me.  Yes, I still participate in many of the things I love in the season and find moments of joy, but the sadness is a part of me, too.  I have the desire to do much more but not alone.   I celebrate the coming of Jesus in the dark and lonely world of my heart.  Jesus is the light in my darkness. 

On that first Christmas night, Jesus came to bring light into the darkness of the world, and he still comes today to bring light in the dark loneliness of your heart.  Christmas is the story of God coming to those who are lost, hurt and alone.  May you open your heart to let Jesus come to bring you comfort and peace in your sadness and loneliness.

Hearing His Name

“She will give birth to a son, and you will name him Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.”                               Matthew 1:21

I am the youngest of five children.  As a child, my dad was notorious for calling the roll of names before naming the child he needed at the moment.  I learned to wait until my name was called before responding.

We like hearing our name spoken especially when it is spoken with love, in recognition and encouragement or called to come to dinner.  Your name signifies you have lived and are known by others.  In conversation, when a name is spoken, we have an image of the person and usually a memory connected to how we know the person.

In familial relationships, additional names are added to given names like Mom, Dad, Grandma, Grandpa, Honey, and numerous nick names.  These names describe the relationship and the love that bind each one together.

When my parents died I no longer spoke the names “Mom and Dad”, but I began to share many Mom and Dad stories.  When I gather with my siblings, we share a lot of Mom and Dad stories and memories.  My heart is full of gratitude for their lives, love and foundation.

After my husband, Dave died, I missed not only his presence and our love and companionship, but I missed his name being spoken and people asking about him.  Some avoided mentioning his name.  I wanted people to speak his name and share memories.  I needed to hear his name and that he made a difference and would never be forgotten.

I also realized after Dave’s death, I not only missed hearing his name, but I missed the names of endearment he spoke to me.  I would never again hear those special names he called me or speak those names to him.  We give intimate and sometimes humorous names to those we love.  They connect our hearts in love.

Every morning I speak Dave’s name and say, “Good morning.”  Each evening I say, “Good night” with terms of endearment.  I miss hearing his response.  My heart though still hears them.

Hearing our loved one’s name brings a flood of memories.  As I sat in Marseilles United Methodist Church recently for a funeral, my mind was filled with names of people I remembered from childhood who were part of this three church circuit.  I remembered their smiles, words of encouragement, and their presence in my life.  Speaking their names made them real and valued.

In this Christmas season, the name of Jesus needs to be spoken as the true meaning of Christmas.  It is the birth of Jesus we celebrate, and his name is life changing. 

“God made Jesus’ name greater than every other name so that every knee will bow to the name of Jesus…And everyone will confess that Jesus Christ is Lord and bring glory to God the Father.”  Philippians 2:9-11

Jesus’ name has power.  Jesus was born, lived, died and was resurrected and sits at the right hand of God in Heaven.  Speak the name of Jesus.  Saying Jesus’ name over and over calms my spirit when I am anxious.  It reminds me that Jesus loves me and will always be with me.

Our loved one was born, lived, died and now because of Jesus is in heaven.  Keep speaking the names of your loved ones.  They are still a part of your life.  Speak the names of those who lived and died and are now in heaven.  Their love and influence will always be a part of you.  When you hear their names spoken by others, memories of love will fill your heart.  You will give thanks that others remember because you will always remember them.

Holding Our Father's Hand

“So don’t worry, because I am with you.  Don’t be afraid, because I am your God.  I will make you strong and will help you; I will support you with my right hand that saves you.”  Isaiah 41:10

As a child, we take our dad’s or mom’s hand to cross the street or to walk in a store.  This slows us down and we long for the freedom to walk or run wherever we want to without holding someone’s hand.

As we grow into our teenage years, we desire independence and want to make our own decisions.  A parent’s job is to raise their children to be responsible and independent adults.  We embrace our freedom and believe we can do anything on our own.

Then life happens – tragedies, broken relationships, death.  We have no idea what to do or who to turn to.

In my own grief, I thought I could handle it on my own.  I worked.  I kept busy and plodded through each day.  I was independent and had walked with so many others on this journey of grief.  I knew what to do or so I thought.  I knew it in my head, but my heart was on an emotional roller coaster.  Through the death of my parents, our grandson and my dearest friend, I had my husband, Dave, to give me support and comfort in my grief.  But in Dave’s death my main support system was gone.  I needed to depend on someone who was grounded and never changing.  Someone bigger than myself.  I needed to hold my Heavenly Father’s hand.

I discovered the song by Josh Turner – “Me and God” – when my niece, Grace, downloaded it into my play list on my iPad.  Part of the words of the song are –

I am weak, and he is strong

Me and God.

He forgives me when I’m wrong

Me and God.

He’s the one I lean on

When life gets hard.

Me and God. 

On this journey of grief, my Heavenly Father is who I have depended on and whose hand I have reached out to hold keeping me in the present.  Being independent and determined to plow through it on my own, just doesn’t work in grief.  I have come to realize that maturing in the Christian faith means becoming more dependent on God.  When worry and anxiety enter, just reach out and take God’s hand.  God brings me into the moment with Him and I accept that I am His child and His hand holds onto me.

The only sustaining relationship in our lives is with our Heavenly Father.  Nothing can separate us from the love of God as Romans 8:39 tells us – “….nothing in the whole world will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Relationships are for chapters of our lives.  Brokenness, distance, death and changes happen in human relationships.  We feel the hurt, pain, and emptiness and long for life to be different or we desire what we perceive others have.  But this is our path and God sustains us, never leaves us, is always the same, loves us and holds our hand.

Take hold of your Heavenly Father’s hand today.  That’s what I am doing right now!

Attitude of Gratitude

“Always be joyful.  Pray continually, and give thanks whatever happens.  That is what God wants for you in Christ Jesus.”             I Thessalonians 5:16-18

This week is Thanksgiving and many will share a meal with family and friends.  At some tables, there will be an empty chair in memory of a loved one.  Some families will share memories and words of thanksgiving for their loved one.  The meal will be different than other years because of the empty chair.

The Thanksgiving meal has many traditional foods and memories of whom in the family prepared a certain dish each year.  Memories are as plentiful as the food.  My Aunt Esta always made minced meat pie for my dad.  It is one pie that will never touch my lips!! 

For some, the day is long and lonely because of the loss of family and friends.  For others, the loneliness involves the distance of family whether in miles or emotions.  Others will serve those in need today or share a meal with extended church family and friends.  Still others will spend the day alone with their memories, pain, and loneliness.

Memories flood my mind of past Thanksgiving meals.  As a child, I spent the day with my parents, siblings, aunt and uncle and cousins.  Lots of food and conversation.  It seemed like we ate all afternoon and then had to drive home and care for all the farm animals.  As an adult, I have shared the meal with a variety of church family and friends.  Many times, my husband, Dave and I ate with the Ricket family on Thanksgiving Day and then had a family meal with his children and grandchildren on another day of the week.

Traditions are part of our lives but when there has been a death, we re-evaluate traditions.  Some stay and some are so connected to our loved ones that they die with them.  It becomes too difficult to continue because the tradition was who our loved one was.

The one constant with Thanksgiving is being thankful.  We are blessed in so many ways.  I remember a song from Sunday School – “Count Your Blessings.”  Some of the words were – “Count your blessings, name them one by one.  Count your many blessings and see what the Lord has done.”

When we grieve and feel the emptiness from loss, it is difficult to see the blessings of life and be thankful.  As I have walked this journey of grief, I have begun to give thanks for the life of my husband, Dave.  I am grateful God brought us together and we walked the path of life and love together.  I am stronger and farther down the path because of our marriage and life together.  I give thanks for my parents, my Grandma, other family and friends who have died and are now in Heaven.  I am grateful they lived and that they loved me and I loved them.  I appreciate the impact they made on my life and what I learned from them and the foundation of faith given to me.

My Grandma, Ruth Clinger, had an attitude of gratitude.  She was thankful even for her aches and pains of life she said because at least she had the ability to feel them.  At age 95, she was thankful to move into a nursing home because God had given her a new gift, to minister to the “old” people in the home.

The “Clinger Clan” will gather to celebrate a meal this week, and we will remember our Grandparents and Parents who are not physically with us.  But they are the foundation of our family and faith.  We will pray and thank God for their lives, influence and be grateful they lived.

Gratitude is not based on how good our situation is but on finding the blessings in the situation.  We may not be able to change our situation, but we can change our attitude toward it.  Look for good moments in each day and on the journey of grief.  Find simple pleasures and be grateful for these little things. Speak your thanksgiving aloud.  It will help you recognize it.

Be grateful for tears.  God created the tears to express our emotions.  Tears are a cleansing of the soul.  Be grateful for the emotions that can be released.  Be grateful for the gift of love.  We grieve because we have loved.  Be thankful even when you don’t feel like it.

Today, I am thankful for the cardinal that comes and sits on a tree branch outside my window.  It reminds me of my husband, Dave.  He is with me and his spirit of love will never leave me.  It is a blessing from God.  I am thankful for God’s presence and comfort in my life.  God walks with me and sometimes carries me on this journey of grief. 

God will give you peace in the midst of the grief and walk beside you.  Just hold God’s hand and say “Thank you.”

Cloud of Witnesses

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses….”   Hebrews 12:1

This past week, a dear relative who was part of my foundation of faith went to heaven and joined the great cloud of witnesses.  In the past months, I had visited Jane whenever I was in my hometown.  In one of my last visits with her, Jane and I talked about those we knew who were in heaven.  We shared memories of those people who had made an impact and imprint upon our lives.  Jane’s face radiated as she began to name the people she would soon see again.

As a believer, Jesus promises the disciples and us that he goes to prepare a place for us – “In my Father’s house are many rooms….I am going to prepare a place for you.”  John 14:2 (RSV)  We have a room in Heaven waiting for us.  Those whom I have loved and who have died in the faith already have received their room in Heaven.

This gives me hope and encouragement when a loved one dies; they cross over from this life into the next – into Heaven.  They see Jesus face to face and are healed and made perfect.  Heaven has no pain, suffering or sorrow.

The cloud of witnesses embraces those who have died and now enter Heaven. What a great reunion that will be.  This gives me hope.  I will again see my loved ones someday – my husband, my parents, grandparents, friends, family, and all those loved by God.  I will be welcomed into Heaven.

For now, though, I am surrounded by a cloud of witnesses.  To me this means the spirit and the imprint of the faith of those who made a difference in my life is always surrounding me.  Their lives have been a witness to me and have helped me grow in my faith and into the person God is creating me to be.

When I begin to long for those I love, I start naming people I know in Heaven.  Wow, there are a lot of wonderful people I love in Heaven.  I miss them and my heart aches for them, but I also rejoice that God put them on my path of life.  They made a difference and showed me Jesus in the way they lived and loved.

Some days, I just look up and sense the spiritual presence of people in Heaven.  Especially when I am in my home church or churches I have served as pastor, I look up and remember those who came before me and blazed a path of love and service.

So in these past weeks as I have prayed for Jane, I have recognized the cloud of witnesses that have surrounded her and were waiting for her when she crossed over into Heaven.  Today, I rejoice that Jane has joined the cloud of witnesses and her spirit of love and encouragement surrounds me.

In our grief and as we miss our loved ones, be aware of their presence around us.  Their love is a witness and their presence within our heart and spirit will never leave us.  I trust in the promises of Jesus.  There is a place for me and for you.  Our loved ones are with Jesus and surround us with love, encouragement and hope.

Surviving The Holidays

“This is how God showed his love to us: He sent his one and only Son into the world so that we could have life through him.”             I John 4:9 (NCV) 

The Christmas Hallmark and Lifetime movies have begun - the perfect Christmas where love always wins in the end and the movie ends with a kiss.  We watch and remember the love we have had or the hope for this kind of love in our lives.  Yes, it is a movie, but some of us had that kind of Hallmark love and now we have a hole in our hearts where once was the sharing of life with the love of our lives.

Now the holidays approach again.  How do we survive again?  The holidays are filled with memories of past celebrations, traditions and people.  We remember our childhood and holidays spent with parents, grandparents and extended family.  Growing up, my dad created the tradition where we cut and stacked wood for our wood burning stoves before we could open our Christmas gifts.  My siblings and I talk about this memory every year.  I remember my Grandma’s silver Christmas tree with the rotating lights underneath.  I remember baking lots of cookies.  I remember my mom sewing an outfit for each of us and sometimes when we opened the gift it was only the material and pattern.  My mom did not have time to finish the gift but gave us what she was planning on making.

Memories are good, and memories are also painful.  We may feel lonelier each Christmas because of the absence of our loved one who made Christmas so special.  We may try to re-create the “perfect” Christmas, but it never turns out the way we had hoped because of the emptiness of not have our loved one with us to celebrate.

No matter how long a loved one has been gone, the holidays – especially Thanksgiving and Christmas – bring a flood of emotions, grief and tears.  Allow yourselves to be sad, to cry, and go through periods of grief.  You may cry as you bake cookies using your mom’s recipe or hang an ornament on the tree given to you from your husband.  Cherish the memories.  Memories are a gift.  You cannot recreate them, but you can accept them as part of who you are and what makes the season so special.

Loneliness may be overwhelming through the holidays as you long for loved ones and feel their absence more intensely.  Isolation may feel easier – just be alone and get through the holidays.  But isolation creates more negativity as you listen to the negative chatter in your head.  Find a balance – time with family and friends and time to reflect and be alone.

Focus on the true meaning of why we celebrate Thanksgiving and Christmas.  At Thanksgiving reflect on your blessings and remember the lives of your loved ones.  Name the people who have been in your life and the difference they made in your life.  Give thanks.  It’s OK to cry and to celebrate at the same time.  You are thankful they lived but sad they are not with you physically to celebrate.  Remember, their love and spirit remains in your heart forever.

Christmas reminds us that God loves us so much that He sent his son into this world.  Jesus was born like you and me so that we could relate to him.  He was born to give us the gift of love, hope and life.

I believe surviving the holidays is not just about surviving because of the death of our loved one.  It is also surviving what society has made the holidays to be.  Maybe this Thanksgiving we can focus on being grateful and thankful for the blessings of life and to share our blessings with those less fortunate.  Maybe this Christmas, we can focus on Jesus and not on shopping and the busyness of the season.  We can remember God loves us so much He sent his Son to be born so that He could show us how to live and to die for our sins giving us the gift of grace.

As we mourn the loss of our loved ones this holiday season, may we know that the One who loves us most understands our grief, pain and loss.  Jesus walks beside us.

Closeness In Death

“Love never ends.”   I Corinthians 13:8

As I reflect on those I have loved and are now in Heaven, I feel a part of them within me.  The love I have for them never ends as First Corinthians 13:8 tells us – “Love never ends.”  Since our loved ones are with God and God is with us, and God is love, their love is with us, too.

Before Jesus’ crucifixion, he was talking with his disciples that he must go away in order for the Holy Spirit to come.  If he does not go away, the Spirit cannot come.  This did not make sense to the disciples at this time because they did not want Jesus to leave them.  But Jesus died, was resurrected and ascended to Heaven.  Then at Pentecost, the disciples understood when they received the power of the Holy Spirit within them.  Jesus was now closer to them than he had ever been because His Spirit was living in them.

“They were all filled with the Holy Spirit….”              Acts 2:4

Jesus did not want to leave the disciples alone nor does he want us to be alone.  The disciples were his family on earth.  Jesus went to be with His Father and leaves the Holy Spirit, his Spirit, as family.  Jesus did not want to leave the disciples as orphans (John 14:18) and gives his Spirit to assure them that he is with them and will never leave them.

Henri Nouwen in his book, The Greatest Gift, A Meditation of Dying and Caring goes into detail about this concept.  Nouwen says that Jesus, when he left this earth, gave his Holy Spirit to be with us.  Therefore, so too do those who have the Holy Spirit in them leave that spirit with us.  The spirit of our loved one which contains their faith and the essence of who they were on earth, remains within us and sustains us.  The Holy Spirit is often referred to as Sustainer.  Our loved ones sustain us in their love forever. 

I have begun to recognize sacred moments in my grief when I feel so very close to my husband, Dave.  It is a closeness deep within me.  I cannot explain it in words because it is a feeling deep inside that I am connected at a specific moment with him.  It gives me comfort and peace, and sustains me in that moment.  It is beyond space and time.

I feel connected to Dave in a deeper level since his death.  It is a new bond that is strengthened by the Spirit of our love.  The Spirit of God that was within Dave continues in me because love is stronger than death.

My husband, Dave, continues to influence my life even though he is in heaven. What I learned from him and his life continues to bear fruit in me.  I am aware that before I make a decision, I ask myself, “What would Dave want me to do?”

Find comfort in the assurance that “love never ends.”  The love just takes a different form within us and remains.  The love sustains us and continues to be a part of our daily lives and the foundation of our lives.  Recognize the presence of those you have loved remains in your heart and sustains you through the joys, sorrows and trials of life.

Sighing

“…they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.”

                                                                                                Isaiah35:10b (NRSV)

“…and the Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words.”                       

                                                                                                Romans 8:26 (NRSV)

Let’s all sigh together – 1….2….3….. sigh……………………………………………..

I have found myself sighing so much more in my grief and in this different life.  It has been hard to put into words all the emotions and to name what is going on in my head and heart.  So I sigh.  Some of the sighing is now part of the acceptance that life is what it is and I can’t change it.

My dog, Annie, sighs too.  She sleeps in bed with me, and when she finally settles down for the night she curls up beside me and lets out a deep sigh.  It is her way of saying, “I’m done for the day and going to sleep now.”  When I hear Annie’s sigh, I know I can finally go to sleep, too.

I sit more and just “be”, just be quiet in my mind.  Just be in the present moment.  Sometimes I am not thinking about anything in particular and just have a feeling of emptiness sweep over me, and then I sigh.  I reach out and take my Heavenly Father’s hand and sigh.  God’s Spirit speaks for me in those sighs.  No words need to be spoken.

Sadness and sighing go together. The longing for what once was brings the sighing.  When I want to share a special moment of life with Dave and anticipate his reaction, and then I remember he is not here, I sigh.  I still share it with him but it is not the same.  The sadness and loneliness makes me sigh.

Sighing is a physical reaction to grief.  We recognize life is not what we anticipated it to be, but it is what it is.  Sighing is the physical way of releasing the emotions that build up inside of us in our grief.  It is the awareness that we are feeling the pain and hurt of grief but do not want to talk it out or even attempt to put words to the emotions, so we sigh. 

Sighing is a gift from God.  The Bible records many times that Jesus sighed.  He sighed when the religious leaders asked for a miracle. (Mark 8:12)  He sighed before healing a deaf man.  (Mark 7:34)  He sighed when the disciples didn’t understand about the bread. (Matthew 16:11)  Jesus sighed when those around him did not understand.  It was a sigh of compassion and awareness that the works of heaven cannot be explained fully on earth.

I also sigh in acceptance that this is now the life I have.  I sigh in my prayers, too.  I have so much in my heart that I want to share with God but no words will come.  I sigh knowing God’s Spirit is speaking for me.  The Spirit is deep within me listening to my soul.  It is in these moments, I again reach out and take God’s hand and hold on.  And in this moment, I know God hears my sighing and understands.

Sighing is a necessary part of our grieving process.  Our grief can never be fully expressed in words.  Only heaven understands the depth of hurt and pain and sorrow that are deep within our hearts.  There are no words in the moments of deep grief, only sighing.  Sighing creates a language of the heart that only God understands and can bring comfort and peace.

Keep sighing……

7-3-3

“Jesus said, “I shall be with you a little longer, and then I go to him who sent me…”

                                                                                                John 7:33

My husband, Dave, served on the Ohio State Highway Patrol for 31 years and retired as a Major.  His unit number was 733.  Ask most retired Ohio State Troopers who 733 is and they will know it is Retired Major D.D. Sturtz.  It was more than a number.  It represents the legend and the legacy of a man who made a difference and cared about his fellow troopers and served faithfully the citizens of Ohio.

It is amazing how many times I glance at the time and it is 733.  Twice a day, the clock reminds me of Dave, and I smile knowing Dave is forever with me.

One day, I decided to check out what Bible verses were Chapter 7 and verse 33.  I found a few but the one in the Gospel of John spoke to my grief.  Jesus told his disciples he would be with them a little longer and then he was going back to his Father in Heaven.

Dave and I were brought together by God to walk the path of life for twenty-five and a half years.  In the last month of Dave’s life, we had to accept Dave would be on earth just a little while longer and he was going to the One who love him and who Dave loved – our Heavenly Father.

God gave Dave two glimpses of Heaven during his illness and in the last week of his life, he slipped into a coma like state and went to Heaven.  He returned to tell us about it.  Dave asked, “When do I get to go back?”  He saw a glimpse of Heaven and wanted to return.  Jesus had been in Heaven and came to earth, and was preparing to return to Heaven.  His disciples didn’t understand and were in the midst of grief.  I can relate to the disciples.  I have not seen Heaven like Jesus and Dave had, but trust that Heaven was as beautiful as it had been revealed to Dave.

Another 7:33 Scripture is from the book of Acts –

“The Lord said to him, ‘Take off your sandals, because you are standing on holy ground’.”

                        Acts 7:33

This is in the speech given by Stephen who quoted from the Old Testament in Exodus when God spoke to Moses.  This reminds me of Dave’s deep faith and respect for God.  That’s how he lived his life.  It also describes the respect and admiration many on the Ohio State Highway Patrol had for Dave.  Many Troopers told me they would have followed Dave anywhere.  They believed in him and what he stood for knowing he would not lead them down a wrong path.

It is amazing to take three numbers, 733, Dave’s unit number, and apply them to the Bible and allow God to speak through the numbers to describe Dave’s life and legacy.

God uses many ways to reveal Himself and His love to us.  In our grief, it is also amazing what reminds us of our loved ones.  Be open to the ways God reveals Himself to you and how your loved one comes to you.  Smile and remember.  Allow yourself to be in the moment and feel the love and be comforted in knowing how close your loved one is to you in that moment.

Tribute to My Mom

“If you go the wrong way – to the right or to the left – you will hear a voice behind you saying, “This is the right way. You should go this way.”                        Isaiah 30:21

I grew up on a farm as the youngest of five children.  My parents were hard working with strong morals and values and deep Christian faith.  My mom was my first Sunday School teacher and then taught me again when I was in Jr. High.  I witnessed my parents share daily in devotions together and my mom studying her Bible.  We prayed at every meal, listened to Christian records and attended Gospel Concerts on a regular basis.  Attending worship was a natural part of every Sunday.

While my Grandma Clinger influenced my life, prayed for me daily, and guided me in God’s calling on my life, I have come to the realization the deep impact and imprint my mom has made on my life and my Christian faith.  I continue to learn from her daily even though today, October 14th, is the Anniversary of her death and going to heaven thirteen years ago – October 14, 2006.

I remember the details of that day vividly, watching her take the journey to heaven.  We gathered as a family in her room in the Nursing facility sharing stories and memories, laughing and crying together.  Our mom gave us life and was the glue that held our family together, and we were feeling the turmoil of letting go and wanting to hold on at the same time.

The eight Sundays prior to my mom’s passing, my husband, Dave and I spent the day with my mom in this nursing facility.  Her breast cancer had returned in her bones and treatment was no longer effective.  My mom was positive and remained strong in her faith during this time ministering to each person who walked through her door.  In these Sunday moments, my mom and I worshipped, prayed, shared scriptures, and deep conversation.  I would push her in the wheelchair outside in God’s creation and the holy moments in nature warmed my heart and drew me closer to our Heavenly Father through my mom’s spirit.

One of the last Scriptures we shared together and discussed was Isaiah 30:21.  In my Bible, I have the word “mom” written beside this verse.  I believe this verse was a gift from God and the way my mom continues to be a guide and influence in my life.  When I am at a crossroad in my life and wonder which way to go, I think of my mom and ask God to direct my path.  I have this foundation of faith because of my mom.

As I said, I am the youngest of five children.  Our mom loved each of us deeply but differently.  My oldest brother, Edwin, was the first child who gave her life purpose and meaning as a mom and the title.  This bond was pure and strong lasting a lifetime.  The second child, my brother, David, became the son who had the natural ability of farming and who later in life moved onto the farm becoming the one who was next door to help my parents and then support my mom after my dad died.  The third child, my sister, Carolyn, the first girl, gave my mom a daughter to share her love for sewing and creating.  The fourth child, my brother, Bruce, was raised in the garden and came to love the garden like my mom.  Then I was born.  I was “daddy’s little girl” who was always “volunteered” by my siblings to go with my dad because he never wanted to do anything alone.

As my siblings grew and became adults and started their own lives away from the farm, my mom and I spent more time together.  She encouraged me to pursue my dream of college.  I came to understand, I was also living the dream my mom had for herself.  She never had the opportunity to further her education and therefore, was excited to follow each step of where God was calling me in my life.

Through my ministry, my parents visited me wherever I served.  My mom and I shared the Walk to Emmaus – a spiritual renewal weekend – together with me as her Spiritual Director.  My mom has always been and will continue to be my spiritual director.  In countless conversations whether in person or on the phone, we discussed Scriptures, spiritual ideas and God’s direction and calling on my life.  My mom was a prayer warrior and a Bible scholar.  In any Bible study she participated, pastors and leaders would defer to her for understanding of Scriptures.

I miss my mom every day.  I still have the urge to call her and ask how to do something.  She was Google before Google was invented.  When God gives me a Scripture insight, I want to call and share it with her.  I talk with her each day and know she is still with me in my heart.

Today, I remember with love my mom.  I am sad she is not physically present with me, but she remains in my heart forever.  I grieve her loss, but celebrate that she lived.  I am thankful for her life, her impact and imprint on my life.

Anniversary dates are a time to reflect and remember.  We may cry because our loved one is not present, but we rejoice that they lived and made a difference in our lives.  I am a better person because my mom lived and was my mom.  I give thanks for her life.

When Everything Seems To Change

“Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.”                        Hebrews 13:8

There are defining moments in history – tragedies that change life - from wars, 9/11, natural disasters to historic events like landing on the moon and medical discoveries.  Personally, we have events and moments that change our lives like graduations, career changes, the birth of a child to marriages and deaths.

For me many events and moments have impacted my life.  Besides giving my life to Jesus and becoming a Christian, two events have made an imprint forever on my life – my marriage to Dave and the death of Dave.  Both changed my life completely at the time and forever.

At the age of 30, I had prayed if God wanted me to be single the rest of my life, I would accept God’s will for my life.  Then God brought Dave into my life a few months later.  My life changed.  I began to not just think of myself but put Dave and our marriage as a priority.  God was still the center of my life, but I was now walking together with Dave.  He became my best friend and companion on this journey of life.  I had someone to share life with, to laugh and cry with, to go places and travel and to just do daily life.  Life was filled with joys and struggles and challenges and disappointments but we had each other to go through them together and hold each other up.  We walked the path of life together.

Then everything changed.  Dave was diagnosed with brain tumors.  We walked those last months together the same way we had the past 25 years with love, compassion and support knowing God was with us.

But then Dave died and everything changed again.   I no longer had my best friend and companion to walk through the joys and sorrows of life.  The emptiness and loneliness was intense.  Life was so different.  I knew my life would be different, but I didn’t realize how much.  I had been independent before meeting Dave and assumed I would just go back being that independent person.  But I had changed.  I so enjoyed sharing my life with Dave and we loved being together and doing everything together.  My mind had been rewired to share life with my husband.

Now, I had to rewire my thoughts to go through life without him.  I began to recognize that the one constant in my life had not changed.  God was still God.  God was still with me.  God does not change, but my relationship with God has grown more intimate and dependent.  While I did not like the change of becoming a widow, I have come to accept my current status and that I will never be the same again.  I have grown and matured in the understanding of relationships, therefore, my relationship with God has deepened and changed.

Daily, I take my Heavenly Father’s hand knowing He walks with me into the day.  Jesus walks beside me as my companion and friend, and the Holy Spirit surrounds me with strength and perseverance.  I am never alone.

Change is a natural part of life.  God created life to change, evolve, grow, and live in the seasons.  I have experienced changes throughout my life, but God has remained with me in each change.  Sometimes God held my hand and sometimes God carried me.  We may not want or like the change, but it is going to happen anyway.  It is finding a way to embrace the change, learn from it and live in the different.

The Stones At The Grave

“After this happened Samuel took a stone and set it up between Mizpah and Shen.  He named the stone Ebenezer, saying, “The Lord has helped us to this point.”                                                                                            I Samuel 7:12

Every time I visit the cemetery whether it is my husband, Dave’s grave, my parents, my grandma, Dave’s parents or my friend, Ruth, I leave a stone.  The stone represents many reasons for leaving it.

First of all, a stone does not wither like flowers and can be a permanent reminder of the bond of love.  The stone is from the earth just as our loved one has returned to the earth.  The stone is also a reminder that someone has been to the grave to visit.

The stone is also a symbol of God’s holy presence.  In the Old Testament, stones were stacked on top of each other whenever an altar was built to worship God and symbolized God’s presence.  For example, when Joshua and the Israelites crossed the Jordan River, God had Joshua choose a man from each of the twelve tribes of Israel to pick up a rock from the River to be sign and reminder to their children that God stopped the flow of the Jordan River so that the people could cross.  The rock was the reminder of God’s presence with them.

In the New Testament, Jesus gives Simon the name, “Cephas” which means Peter or rock.  Later in Jesus’ ministry, Jesus asks the disciples, “Who do you say I am?”  and Peter replies, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”  Jesus says, “On this rock I will build my church….”  (Matthew 16:16-18)  Yes, Peter’s name meant “rock” but the rock Jesus was building upon was Peter’s faith in who Jesus is.  To me, this also symbolizes why I take a rock to the cemetery.  The faith and foundation of life given to me by those I visit have helped me to build my life and faith.  They are the foundation stones of my life.

In I Samuel 7:12, Samuel took a stone and named the stone “Ebenezer” which means “stone of help.”  Samuel recognized God’s help on the journey.  When I take a stone to the grave, I recognize the help each person has given me on the journey of life.  The stone represents my love and thankfulness for their life.

Also, my husband, Dave, had a fascination with rocks.  During a period of time in our marriage, we walked farmers’ fields and gathered rocks for our landscaping.  Now, these were not small stones, but huge rocks that took two people to carry and sometimes took a trailer to haul.  These rocks were the first things moved in three of my recent moves.  Some of these rocks now reside beside the signs for my husband’s memorial highway in Coshocton County.

I now pick up a stone wherever I travel and take it to the cemetery.  It connects Dave to my travels and reminds me he has helped me on my journey.  He will always be a part of my foundation.  I take stones to my parents and grandma’s grave from my travels and places I have lived to remind me they are the basis of my foundation. 

The stone also reminds me of the solid love Dave and I shared.  While life’s adversities would pound at our lives, our love remained strong and did not waver.  Oh, the rock took on some difficult storms, but that just made it smoother and more beautiful.  Just like our love.  The strength of that love was grounded in our faith in God and that love remains solid as a rock in my heart. 

So I find my “Ebenezer” knowing God has helped me to this point and will at each moment through my life and my grief.

The Anniversary

 “I press on toward the goal….of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.”                                                          Philippians 3:14

The word “anniversary” described a time to celebrate our marriage or the marriage of family and friends.  It was a time to be happy and to remember how God created the bond of marriage.

September represents another understanding of Anniversary – the anniversary date of my husband’s death.  This month marks the 4th anniversary of Dave’s death and the recognition I have lived the past four years without his physical presence.  I have been reflecting on these past years.

On the 1st Anniversary of Dave’s death, it seemed impossible that he had been gone already a year.  It was also remarkable that I had survived all of the “firsts” without him.  I had kept busy with work – counseling and teaching and making visits.  My way of dealing with grief in this first year was to keep as busy as possible so the grief didn’t have time to penetrate deeply.  Oh, it did in moments, but I was more focused on others and caring for their needs.  Many who grieve experience this survival mode in the first year.

The 2nd Anniversary found me living in my hometown.  I had moved nine months earlier to find a quieter place to grieve and heal and to change my focus. I needed to separate myself from everything that reminded me of Dave.  I went back to my familiar surroundings and family.  It was in this time I began to write.  I started to write about my husband, Dave’s life and legacy but realized I had too much grief in me so I wrote out the grief.  The book, Living In The Different was birthed.  My life was truly different.  Different wasn’t bad, it was just different.  Then, I started to read Dave’s writings, sort through boxes of saved papers and speeches, cards and letters, pictures and stories from friends.  Somehow it was all organized, sifted through and a book emerged – Life Lessons of a Lone Trooper.

I felt this 2nd year had been productive by defining my grief and Dave’s legacy.  I connected with family and rediscovered my hometown.

The 3rd Anniversary found me considering my next move.  My hometown stay had brought healing to my heart and a time away from the life I had lived with Dave.  It also brought some disappointments for next steps, but also a realization God still had more for me to do.  So a leap of faith and a move back to the Columbus area happened after this 3rd Anniversary.  During this time, I gave away the majority of my stuff to family.  I believe part of my reason in moving back among my family was to give my possessions to my nieces and nephews so they could enjoy the blessings I had received.  It was the easiest way to accomplish this desire.  I want to travel lighter into this next chapter.

Now as the 4th Anniversary has approached, my priorities and view of life and purpose is changing and is different than what I had envisioned.  Work and doing and being busy are no longer in the forefront of this chapter of life.

I want to follow God’s will for my life and rest in God’s presence.  My purpose is to find peace and contentment in being with God.  I don’t want to settle and just take it easy, either.  This next chapter involves a leap of faith but also a closure.

Closure does not mean we no longer remember or grieve.  We remember the love, the impact and imprint our loved one has made upon our life.  We will always miss our loved one and grieve.  We moved forward with grief, but we move forward toward life, too. Closure means we start living instead of wishing it was like it used to be.  It means we live in the reality of this different life.  We have life and hope, and now trust in the new present and hope of a future.

In this 4th Anniversary, I am aware it is time to move forward.  The love of Dave will remain in my heart forever and his influence has strengthened me.  He is a part of my foundation upon which I will continue to build.  My life will always be different than I had hoped but it is my life now.  I walk into this 5th year without Dave, holding God’s right hand, being open to new adventures, new relationships and recognizing it is OK to be different.  Those who grieve understand.

As Anniversary dates approach each of you who grieve, reflect on the past.  Give yourself credit for surviving.  Remember and celebrate your loved one’s life and legacy and the difference made in your life.  Take the memories with you.  Recognize you are different and begin to look into this next chapter of your life.  Remember, love never ends; it just takes a different form.  Live in this different.

Numbness to Time

“To you, a thousand years is like the passing of a day, or like a few hours in the night.”   Psalm 90:4 (NCV)

As a child, time goes by so slowly.  It seems forever until your birthday, and then Christmas is so slow getting here.  School last what seems like an eternity, and it’s amazing how much you can pack into a summer!

As we age, time seems to speed up and go by at a greater speed.  It doesn’t seem possible that one season fades quickly into the next.  And then we experience the death of a loved one.  Time seems to stand still for a while.  Life is a blur and then one day we realize time has moved on while grief has remained.

On September 18, 2019, it will be four years since my husband, Dave died.  Four years!  Where has the time gone?  Sometimes it seems like only yesterday.  Other times it feels like forever since I saw him, touched him, laughed with him and shared moments with him.  September 18th will never be the same again.  It is more than a date on a calendar, but a date when time changed for me.

To the world around me, time has moved on and the expectation is that I have moved on in my loss.  The reality is one does not move on from grief, but one moves forward with grief.  Some aspect of grief will always be a part of who I am.

Grief is not about time, it is about love.  As we grieve, we may hear others around us, our friends and family, say, “It’s time to move on.”  “It’s time to let go.”  “It’s time to get over it and move on with your life.”

Grief has no time table.  Some people believe once you get through all the “firsts” your grieving will be completed.  For some who grieve, life moves forward quicker than for others.  Some may feel “stuck” in this grief, and it just seems impossible to move forward.  Time stands still.

I believe we move forward with the grief as a part of our daily life.  We learn to live in our grief and brokenness.  It is in this pain and brokenness that we find our new way of life.  Our lives will never go back to a normal feel and normal understanding of time. Life and the days and weeks keep marching on but in our grief, it feels like it stands still, too.

How I view time has changed for me.  I measure time differently when a loved one has died.  Now time for me is based on before or after Dave died.  Time after his death seems to all run together.  The days were cloudy at first, and I just wanted the day to be over.  Then I began to enjoy moments and smile at memories.  As I walk down this different path, I begin to see time not just what happened in the past, but time marks the present and a hope for a future.

Time, to me, is measured differently now.  It is not measured in hours and days, but in moments.  Moments of treasured memories.  Moments with special friends and family.  Moments resting in God’s presence.  Moments listening to God’s directions.  Moments listen to nature.  Moments of sadness and tears.  Moments.

Decisions At The Cemetery

“If I lie down in the grave, you are there…even there you would guide me.  With your right hand you would hold me.”   Psalm 139:8, 10 (NCV)

It is about a mile and a half to the cemetery where my husband, Dave’s body is buried in my current location.  I walk to the cemetery quite often.  I know Dave is not there, but a feeling of being closer to him occurs when I sit beside the grave stone.

My dog, Annie, has been to the grave so many times that her nose leads her directly to the grave and then she lays down under a nearby tree while I talk with Dave and God.

I remember the day Dave’s body was laid to rest in the casket in this cemetery.  It is one of the most vivid memories for me of the funeral day.  The funeral director, Dwayne Spence, walked me to the gravesite.  It was a warm and sunny September day, but I was cloudy and cold.  I sat on a chair under the tent in front of the casket.  I had been on the other side so many times as the minister officiating at the graveside service.  This was different sitting and staring at the casket.

I have no memory of what was said at the ceremony.  I remember the intense quietness of the flag being folded by state troopers and given to me by the Colonel of the Highway Patrol.  The taps were played.  The guns fired a 21 gun salute.  The bagpiper played “Amazing Grace” and then he turned and walked away from the grave playing and the sound grew faint but still distinct.  Tears flowed for the first time that day.  I had tried to keep it all inside, but the cemetery called for the release of the tears.  It was good-bye to his body and he was laid to rest.  My physical connection with Dave was gone.

After the service and the meal at the church, everyone said good-bye and went home.  I was left alone with my dog.  We returned that evening to the cemetery.  Where else could I go?  I sat with my dog and cried at the fresh grave.  The cemetery was filled with sadness and a deep pain.  I was now alone.

Over the months, I would stop for a few moments at the cemetery.  It became not a place of pain but a place of release and healing.  I come now to be connected to Dave’s spirit.  It is quiet and I am more focused on listening to God speak to my heart.  Dave is with God and God’s Spirit is in me so a part of Dave’s spirit is present with me at the cemetery.

When I need to make a decision or to sort out life, I go to the cemetery.  Every major decision in the years since Dave’s death has been made at the cemetery.  I also go to the cemetery where my parents and grandparents are buried and reflect on these decisions and direction for my life.

The cemetery reminds me of all the people who have come before me and have left a legacy of love in my life.  It is filled with the “great cloud of witnesses” that are the foundation of my life and faith.  The cemetery has become a peaceful place because those who dwell there are at peace and no longer struggle in this world.

A quiet spirit comes over me now as I enter the cemetery.  Some days there is a longing to be there in the quiet and reflect.  Spending time in the cemetery has helped me to focus on what is most important in life – my relationship with God and my relationship with others.  The cemetery is filled with relationships of love.  There have been times I have gathered with family at the cemetery, and in those moments of sharing memories, I hear the difference our loved one has made in our lives.  The cemetery reminds us that our loved one lived and mattered and the spirit of our loved one lives on in us.

The Pathway into the New Chapter of Life

As I reflect on my life with my husband, Dave, I visualize that we walked separate paths in our lives until God brought us together.  We walked the path of life together for twenty-five and a half years.  The path was filled with obstacles, difficult steps, smooth and open meadows, narrow and frightening trails, quiet streams and so much more, but whatever we encountered, we walked together. 

Dave helped me to move further along on the path of life, and then we separated.  He went to Heaven, and I have had to continue forward on a new path of my own life.  I would not be as far along on my life’s path if Dave had not come to walk beside me.  He helped me to see the strength within me, to build my confidence and bring out the good gifts within me.

I wish Dave could continue the journey of life with me, but he was no longer able so God released him from this world.  And because Dave was released, I have been released to live fully on this new path of life.

I took a trip back to the last place Dave and I vacationed.  It was an emotional trip filled with good memories.  The last day of my vacation, I went to the park where Dave and I had walked, and I ran the trail around the town and beside the water.  The trail had been extended beyond where Dave and I had walked.  I ran on this new trail where Dave and I had never been.  I felt like God was saying to me, “it’s time for you to move forward and to blaze a new trail without Dave’s physical presence.”

I know that whatever path God directs me to walk, the memories and spirit of Dave will go with me.  He taught me so much about how to live life and his wisdom, advise, leadership, faith and all that was Dave, will be a part of me in this new chapter of life.

 “In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths.”  Proverbs 3:6

The Path

For the past 6 years, I have run almost every morning with my dog, Annie.  We have run in four different locations and in each place we have made a path in the grass.  Annie usually follows me and sometimes runs ahead of me.  Depending on the day, sometimes she gets off the trail because her nose has picked up a scent or she sees a deer or rabbit that she chases.  Most of the time, I can call her back and she picks up her own leash and runs back to me.  But some days, I have to go get her and pick up her leash and hold onto her for a while to get her back on the trail.

The path in the grass has become noticeable and we have beaten down the grass. My run has also become my prayer time and quiet time with God.  Over the past 14 years of running, it has been where I have released my emotions and grieved for so many loved ones and very special relationships.

My trail and run has become a metaphor for my grief.  I see God as the steady and faithful runner at times.  Staying on the path and never deviating from the path laid out.  My dog, Annie, reminds me of myself at times.  She stays close to God on the path at times and is obedient and faithful.  Other times, the distractions of the world take over and she gets off the path.  Annie sometimes just stops and waits until I run back around and picks up again with me.   Because of the weather conditions, sometimes I have to run on the pavement and not on the muddy or icy trail.  It feels like I am just going in short circles but at least I am outside and moving.

So what does all of this have to do with my grief story?  Many metaphors of the trail are an expression of my different paths of grief.  Sometimes, I recognize that God is right beside me and I feel close to God and have the assurance my loved ones are with God in heaven.  Other times I feel distance and go off on my own and look for things of this world to satisfy me or at least distract me, but it does not last long.  The only sense of hope in my grief is with God.  Grief gets messy like my path, and I feel like I am just going in circles repeating the same journey over and over again without progress.  But I remind myself, grief is the journey I am now on.  Some days it is intense and hard, and other days it is in the back of my mind but I can live and enjoy the beauty of life around me.

In my grief, anxiety can take control even when I am praying and running.  I then reach out my left hand and grab hold of God’s hand which brings me comfort and brings me back into the present moment.  God reassures me that He is with me and together we will go through this journey.

I am the Lord your God, who holds your right hand, and I tell you, “Don’t be afraid.  I will help you.” Isaiah 41:13

Holding God’s right hand has been what keeps me in the present moment and keeps me from thinking too far into the future and being afraid.  In those moments, I literally reach out with my left hand and grab my Heavenly Father’s right hand and hold it tightly while saying, “God, you have me.  Keep me in the present with you.”

Life is a path.  We all have a path.  The path is not neat and easy but it is worth it.  We learn to live on our own path, not someone else’s.  It is ours.  We don’t always like the path and the obstacles and sorrows on it, but we make it through.  Keep going.