Tag: peace

A Repaired Heart

On By SandraIn faith, family, love, stressLeave a comment

I write to you on the fifth week after my quadruple bypass surgery.  According to the professionals, I am progressing right on schedule. Even so, it is slow progress.  I am a “let’s get it done and I mean right now” kind of a person.  Unfortunately, this is a slower than molasses recovery process.  After four weeks I got the staples out and thought I would be ready to go.

I was beyond shocked when my wonderful surgeon let me know I had two more months (not weeks, months) of picking up less than ten pounds. My purse weighs almost ten pounds. This is miserable. No raking, no sweeping, no cleaning, etc. What can you do?

So I am in a situation of evaluating my life. I thought I had a handle on life. Work. That is what life is all about. Doing, doing, doing. I grew up in a home that did not understand the word play. My mother always worked. She owned a five and dime store. I stood on an apple crate to ring things in the cash register when I was eight years old. Work was what I was taught to do.

Each morning you wake up and go through your list of things to do. You prioritize your list and attack it. Each evening as you go to bed you reflect on your list. You think of those things you have accomplished and you get some rest because you have worked hard and you are ready to start another day of doing, doing, doing.

My husband, on the other hand, knew how to play. He grew up in an orphanage and had chores and worked on the farm, but he also learned how to play. In our relationship he pushed the play button and I pushed the work button. I never learned the value of play. Now, I am having a hard time learning how to relax and be still.

Not only does the activity level throw you off, but the self worth and emotional levels are out of sync. When you work all the time, you use your accomplishments to boost your self worth meter. When you are sitting all day and you evaluate your worth at the end of the day, there is not much in the plus column. That leads you to battle emotions of low self confidence, low self worth, hopelessness and depression.

Questions such as “Why did God leave me here instead of letting me die?”  “What am I suppose to do with my life now?”  “What did I do wrong that led me to have this issue?”  “Will I ever get my energy back?”  “Did God use this to give me a message?”  “What if I don’t get the right message from this?”  “What am I suppose to do with all of this?”

My three daughters are doing their best with me. My daughter that lives in Alaska even came down to help out. They are trying to re-educate me. I have a list of Stress Relievers that one daughter helped me put together. Twelve things to help me relieve my stress.

It is stressful to look at it.

I am listening. I am learning. I am trying. I pulled out my Erma Bombeck books. I am reading and laughing out loud. I am watching a movie each night. I am reading and re-reading all of the cards that my friends have sent to me.

I am slowly finding my way to a new life. One year ago that my life was torn apart. I adjusted as best I knew how to through the tragedy. Now I am adjusting again. I know a few things. One, I have a very strong faith. If God left me here on earth then I have a purpose and I will find what I am meant to do. Second, I am an eternal optimist. I will find the positive in the situation. Third, I have a great family and wonderful friends that will help me along the way.

The repairing of the heart will take time but it seems I have plenty of that.

 

Another Sunrise

On By SandraIn death, faith, familyLeave a comment

A few days ago my wonderful granddaughter reminded me of our time together right after my husband died.  She began to sleep with me.  It was very comforting for her and for me.  We would spend a few moments before sleeping talking about Poppy and how great he was.  We would share a few memories and things we were thinking about.

Each morning, as she reminded me, we woke up to a gorgeous sunrise.  My bed faces six large windows looking over the lake.  The summer sunrises on that lake is a sight to behold.  The glory as it beams into your eyes and into your heart is just marvelous. Summertime on the lake is great and summertime sunrises are glorious.

Each morning we would hug each other and pray our morning prayer.  We would thank God for sending us such a strong message that He was there for us. We thanked Him for the sunrise.  We told Him that we knew it was a new opportunity to be a servant for Him. We praised Him for creating this beautiful world and allowing us to share it.

That was a special time for the two of us.  It helped us as we both had to deal with losing our wonderful Poppy.  It helped to be able to snuggle close and hold each other.  It was comforting to talk about how much we were going to miss him.  We soon stopped sleeping together.  She needed to get back to her room and get prepared for the school year.  I needed to move on and learn to sleep without a sweet person next to me.

Even after returning to “real life”, we still had our sunrises.  We were still able to see God’s handiwork as soon as we opened our eyes. The sunrise is God’s way of telling us that he has given us a gift.  It is the gift of another day on earth. Another day to be vertical and breathing.  Another day for us to take to the task of living and helping others.

Another opportunity to serve Him.

Whether it is a sun filled day or a rainy day, it is a gift.  As the sudden loss of my life partner taught me, we are not promised another day.  It is a gift to wake up and be alive.

Each day we need to take that gift and do something with it.
It is not given frivolously.
It has meaning.
It has purpose.
It needs to be used.
We need to accomplish something.

After my morning thanks to God for the gift (my mother said to send a thank you note for the gift), I get busy with thinking about my to do list.  I always list more than I can accomplish and I always list things in detail.  The longer the list and more detailed, the more things I get to cross off.  The more things I get to cross off, the better I feel about all that I have accomplished.

Getting up in the morning with a purpose is important.  It gives you energy and a reason to tackle life’s issues.  I always feel good at night when I can say to God, “Thank you for my gift.  I tried hard to use it well”.

One day at a time.  Be thankful for the gift of another sunrise.  Use the gift wisely.  Know you may not get another one.  Rejoice with God for the opportunity to live for Him.

Trust Your Instruments

On By SandraIn death, faith, griefLeave a comment

The other day I drove past the Ocean Isle Beach airport.  It is an airport for small, mostly single engine, planes.  As I drove past I started thinking about the times that my husband and I would spend time flying in small planes.  Ray had a private pilots license and we were members of a flying club so that we could use planes they owned.

When we would go on flights and approach mountains there would be an optical illusion of being too low to clear the mountain.  As I was looking out and we were approaching, I would get tense because it looked like we were going to go into the side of the mountain.

My sweet husband would say, “Trust your instruments”.

He would tell me how high the mountain was and he would have me check the altimeter only to see that we were hundreds of feet above the mountain.

No worry; trust your instruments.

As I continued this thought I realized that as a Christian, I also had to trust my instruments.  God has given us aids to keep our faith at an intense level.  These instruments are to be used to keep us intimate with Him.  If we use our instruments, we will be in His presence.

The first instrument is the Bible.  Reading it daily and using the words to fortify us each day is very important.  It is not a book to sit on the shelf or just carry to church. Sometimes it can be hard to understand.  Although parts of it reads like a novel, some is more difficult.  A good study Bible can give us clues to the meaning of passages and help us. We must use it as an instrument to guide us.

The second is our prayer life.  I am not very formal with my prayers. I tend to talk to God all during the day as I would a good friend.  I thank Him when I am late for an appointment and I make all of the stoplights.  I see a pretty bush and I thank Him for our beautiful world.  I pray for my sick friends as I am driving the car.  Prayer is a wonderful instrument that allows me to communicate with God.

A third instrument is the involvement at church.  People say, “I don’t have to go to church.  I can worship God while fishing on the lake”.  Of course you can.  I don’t disagree with that.  But my granddaughters favorite Bible verse gives me a clue about this instrument.  Proverbs 27:17. As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.  The relationship of Christian to Christian calls us to grow and be sharper with our God.

One word on Sunday can challenge my thinking about my life.  One thought from another person can make me consider things in a different  way.  The support I get from my fellow Christians cannot be gotten from a solitude activity.

God took my husband away but He gives me daily assurance as I reflect on the life I had with my husband.  He sends me messages that reminds me of great memories and links me to His love.

Just like the altimeter in the small airplane, I must use the tools that God has given me to keep my focus and be sure that I am safe in His arms.  I must use the tools to feel His presence and know that I am close to Him each day.

I must TRUST MY INSTRUMENTS.

I’M NOT CRAZY

On By SandraIn death, griefLeave a comment

I don’t think I am crazy.  After you read several of my thoughts you may think I am crazy. But I think I am still sane.  Shortly after my husband died I would wake up in the night or early morning hours and look out of my window.  Now my bed is facing a bank of six large eight foot windows.

Early in the morning I would see this brightest of stars.  It was there so big and so bright. It was beckoning to me.  “See me” it would say.  Look at me.  I am here just for you to see.

It was mesmerizing.  It was so bright that you could not divert your eyes.  If there were other stars, this star was so much brighter and bolder you did not pay attention to the others.  So I would stare at this star.

Now I am not a student of the stars.  I remember when I was a Girl Scout and my wonderful leader would teach us the constellations.  I just did not get it.  I am fairly visual but I could not see a Lion or a Bear.  So I do not know much about the night sky.  I do not know if this was Venus or Mars or some other planet or star.

But I do know that it was a heavenly body that begged for my attention.  So I started waking every night to see this bright light in the sky.  In my mind, I imagined that this was my dearest friend that no longer shared the bed with me.  This was the spiritual image of my love.  This was the soul of my lost husband.

He called to me each night to notice him.  To share with him.  To talk to him and to feel comforted by his presence.  So I do.  Each night I love to see him and think of the days activities and let him know of my things to do list.  Each night I feel his approval of how I am progressing without his physical body.

Now, you think that is strange.  It gets worse.  I recently went to my mountain house. Way up there in northern North Carolina on a remote ten acres away from everything. At this house my bed is facing two large sliding glass doors that open onto the second floor deck.

At 6 am on the first morning there I wake up and, you guessed it, the star is there.  It was so bright and in your face.  No other star was visible.  Although the sky was dark, this beauty of a light was so bright it was hard to take your eyes off of it.

So we talked.  We laughed.  We enjoyed our presence with each other.

Later on that day, I started to consider the orientation of my bedrooms in each house.  At the lake I face South/Southwest.  In the mountains I face East/ Northeast.  Am I crazy? Are my eyes and mind playing tricks on me?  Do I miss my husband so much I am seeing things and trying to make them into something real?

I don’t know.  I don’t care.  I wake up to see my bright star.  I enjoy sharing and feeling comfort.  I feel an intimate pleasure in his presence.  Crazy or no crazy.  I love it. If it feels this good and helps me get through the days.  I will just be crazy.

SOME DEEP THOUGHTS

On By SandraIn death, lossLeave a comment

As you might guess, we have discussed a lot of theology since my husband died.  Was this God’s plan?  Do we all have our days numbered?  Are we born with a definite death date and way of dying?

So there has been a lot of thinking ,sharing, discussions and opinions on these topics. There has also been a lot of interesting thoughts thrown out.  I am not sure yet where I stand on any of these.  But I am willing to share what we have discussed.

Theory one is that, when we are born, there is a definite plan that is finite and is to be carried out in spite of what happens in other parts of our lives. This seems to me to be a bit rigid but then I am not the higher power so maybe that is the order of the world.  The Bible does talk about numbered days and the knowledge that God knows even the hairs on our heads (Matthew 10:30 And even the very hairs of you head are all numbered.) So who am I to say that there cannot be a master road map for our lives?

Theory two says that there is a basic master plan but there is also free will.  So there are choices we make and some of those choices will lead to death during our lives. This would include drinking while driving as a negative, as well as poor health choices.  One person suggested to me that we have as many as three or four scenarios when we are born and we basically could choose any one at any point to go back home to heaven.  If you stay through all of the plan, you have to go back on the last exit strategy.

Theory three has a larger role of free will.  We are born and we have lots of choices from the beginning and our choices play a large part in how and when we die.  Overriding all of this is the fact that, at any given time, God has the power and can and will call us back to heaven. So, in spite of our choices, our time may be up just because God wants us or needs us back home.

As I stated earlier, I am not sure where I stand on these theories yet.  I certainly believe in free will.  The Bible teaches about choices.  If theory one is a fact, it sure would be nice to know when you are dating to avoid falling in love with someone with a short term plan.  I have become interested in people’s thoughts about the transition from this physical world to the spiritual world.  I am surprised at the amount of books on the subject and the amount of research that is being done in the area.

I guess, there are a few facts that I do know.  (1) Everyone dies.  It is a natural part of life. Do not act surprised about death.  It is inevitable  (2) You are not promised tomorrow.  So be prepared.  Do not leave your house in the morning with assurance that you will return in the evening.  In other words, make your bed so you won’t be embarrassed.  (3) Get your affairs in order.  Your loved ones need not be burdened by your lazy lack of preparation.  Wills, labels on knick knacks, funeral plans and clean garages are to be done. (4) Get right with God.  Since you do not know how and when, you had better be on good terms with the power to be.  I mean intimate, talking every day terms.

The Big Bang might be a good TV show, but when I die, I am putting my stock in my Savior.  He has proven over and over to carry me through this world.  I just don’t think physics, chemistry, sticks and rocks have that same power.  I don’t have the answers about the theories.  But I do have the blessed assurance that God is real.

 

IGNORE IT OR NOT

On By SandraIn deathLeave a comment

Last night I went to a support group for persons that were dealing with the death of a loved one.  As I listen to other people share their experience, I become aware of how amazed people seem about death.  I want to shake them and say, “Are you nuts?  You are shocked that someone died?  Did you not expect death?  Do you know anyone that lived forever?”

I get it.  We are shocked when it happens.  When my husband died, I was shocked.  He was 76 and in good health.  His father lived into his 90s and his mother died at 87.  So he talked about his good genes.  And then he drowned.  So, yes, I was shocked on that day that his death had been at an early age.

But we had talked about death.  It is a transition from one part of life to another. Period. As a Christian, it is a positive transition from one part of life to another.  The only sad part of death is missing the daily presence of that other person.  But knowing that other person is now in a glorious home where we all desire to be, is fine with me.  I look forward to being there also. How can you live each day as a person and not be aware that you or someone you love may die immediately.  It is as clear a fact as you breathing each moment.

Don’t get me wrong.  I miss my husband.  I mostly miss his companionship.  I miss his hugs.  I miss the things he did for me.  I miss his role in the family.  I have my moments of sadness.  I have triggers like a song I hear or someone’s voice that sounds like his or seeing something that was very special to the two of us.  I miss him so much.

But I expected to miss him.  I expected him to die.  Not in the way he did, nor at age 76, but I knew this would happen.  I had visited this in my mind.  My daughter said to me last night that maybe part of out grief journey is in our expectations.  I think she is right. I listened to people last night and wanted to say them, “What did you expect?”  They talked about lingering illnesses and older persons dying.  “What did you expect?”  Did you not think about the future?  Did you not prepare for this moment?

There are two things that I think has helped me in this process.  One is my perception of life.  I see life and death as one.  It is a continuous life.  Death is just the transition from one dimension to the next. And it happens to everyone.  As a Christian, it is a happy transition.

The second is the preparation and the expectation of this transition.  I was not surprised it happened.  I was surprised it happened at 76 and by drowning.  But not that it happened.  I prepared myself with the legal paperwork, by living each day to the fullest with my husband, and with the expectation that every day together was a gift not a given. I want to say to everyone.  Get with the program.  Don’t ignore the inevitable.  Live and enjoy each other and expect that tomorrow you may be separated. Be joyous in the transition.

Connecting with People

On By SandraIn death, loss1 Comment

The days following the death of my husband was like a major reunion.  There was a constant flow of people in my home.  Some of these people I had not seen for many years.  Others I had just seen the day before.  But they came and they came and they came.  Sometimes one group would overlap with another.

It was so wonderful.  The visits did so much for me.  First and foremost, I was so pleased that people respected my husband enough to get in a car and drive to my house and spend time with me, honoring my husband.  It takes energy to visit someone.  You have to carve out time in a busy schedule.  You have to drive to our house which is not on the beaten path to anywhere.  Then you have to go into an unknown environment.  Will this be a group of crying people or will you feel uncomfortable?  It is not easy to be a visitor.

The visits were a great distraction for me.  I could focus on the people coming through my door.  I was meeting new people. I was reconnecting people of my past. Friends of my children, colleagues of my children, friends of my childhood, persons that we worship with at our church, neighbors, friends that we partied with as my husband and I were a young couple, friends that I went to school with and people that we had known forever.

Having people to focus on allowed me to move off of the sadness and the sense of loss.  We told “remember when” stories.  We updated information about jobs, children, homes, hobbies, retirement and activities.  We laughed, joked and had a good time. The visits were a great time to breathe, and act as if nothing had happen.

The visits were also a glimpse of my new world.  I was entertaining guests without my husband.  Something that I had not done for almost 53 years.  My new social group was myself and my adult children.  I was reconnecting with people that would properly play a role in my new life.  I did not grasp that at the time but it was a gentle introduction to my future.

The visits also let the time move by rapidly.  I cannot imagine sitting alone after a tragedy and counting the hours until a memorial service.  At a time like this everything stops.  Your regular routine does not exist anymore.  Appointments are cancelled, and daily activities are not conducted.  Time hangs in the air.  Visits keep you occupied and moves you through the days.

I am so thankful to people for the decision to visit me and my family.  I was very surprised at the number of people that came.  But I was so happy when they came.  I was reconnected to people of the past, and I was connected to new people.  I know how much energy and effort it took to visit and I want people to know how important it is to visit.  It is therapeutic for both parties.

God made us to be social.  We know that babies will not develop if they are held in isolation.  And especially when our world is threatened or destroyed, we have a need to be social.  Reaching out and connecting pulls us through the worst of events.

 

Life Goes On

On By SandraIn faith, grief1 Comment

I wrestled with God all night long after my husband died.  I agonized.  I questioned.  I argued.  I disagreed.  I expressed anger.  I visualized over and over and over the event that led to my husband’s death.  I never slept.  By morning, I was exhausted.

But I had made peace with God’s decision.  I was not happy nor was I still angry.  I understood that God had made the decision.  It was no human error not lack of attention to my husband’s well being.  It was simply that God wanted him back in heaven and he had the power to make His will happen.

So I got out of bed and went downstairs for coffee.  I brewed my cup and walked out on the porch.  As soon as I stepped on the porch, I stopped.  It was a typical summer Carolina morning.  The birds were singing a loud chorus of beautiful songs.  So many pitches, so many differences in calls and volumes.  It sounded tropical.  The sky was the gorgeous bright Carolina Blue.  So vivid it looked like a color off of the artists’ pallet.  The greens of the trees were neon with the different hues of summer growth.  The multitude of squirrels were chasing each other and playing tag.

It was everything that you could hope for on a gorgeous summer morning in South Carolina.  But it was all wrong.  It was suppose to be dark.  It was suppose to be gloomy.  It was suppose to be depressing.  It was suppose to reflect my world as it now exists.  This was terribly wrong.

Life was not happy and vibrant.  Life could not be busy and interesting.  Didn’t the squirrels know that my husband had died?  Didn’t they know my world had fallen apart.  How dare they run and play and look happy.  Didn’t the birds know that they should be silent in respect for the great tragedy that had happen in my life.  What was wrong with them singing out loud with their usual choral symphony.

Where were the clouds and the rain and the ugly part of the world.  How dare the sun to shine and offer beauty to the sky.  How dare the lake to be smooth and calm and blue and inviting.  Did it not realize that just yesterday it had been a party to destroying my life?

I sat down and took a few breaths.  I was ready to yell at God again for throwing such a sight in my face.  After all He had caused it all.  At least He could make nature reflect the hurt in my heart.  It was as if my loss was insignificant and not worthy of reflection in the natural part of the world.

Then God gently said to me.  I know you hurt.  I know you are sad.  I know your world will never be the same.  But I promise to take care of you.  I will never leave you and I will never give you more than you can handle.  You can do this. You can be strong.  Your husband is with me and we both expect you to carry on.

So embrace the beauty of the world.  Love it.  See Me in it.  Because life goes on.

Processing with God

On By SandraIn death, faith, grief1 Comment

There was not to be any sleep the night of my husband’s death.  Oh, I went to bed.  I did everything I usually do before bed.  I prepared to sleep but sleep never was to be a part of my night.  I had to make my peace with life and death.  I had to process with God.

And process I did.  I thought about the last few minutes before my husband left to walk down to the lake.  Was he in a good mood?  Did he seem sick?  Did he seem confused?  Were there symptoms of illness that I did not pick up on?  Was I in tune with his moods, his needs, his physical and emotional facets?

Yes, he was in a great mood.  We had laughed and joked and our relationship was in a good place.  No, he did not seem to be sick.  There were no symptoms that I could have noticed.  He had been weed eating which he loved to do.  He was going to play in the lake with children and grandchildren which he dearly loved.  Life was good.

So what went wrong?  If he was not sick and not depressed, what went wrong?  He was a good swimmer.  He was in eight feet of water.  What went wrong?

I tried to walk through the scenario all night.  I visually put myself there at the scene.  I, in my mind, was playing with them in the water.  We were splashing and laughing and making a train with rafts and noodles.  We were teasing and joking and having fun, as only family can do.  We were being responsible and caring, but relaxing and staying cool in the heat.  We were enjoying the lake that we love so much.

Then I visualized the final moments before he drown.  I lay on the raft with him.  I watched as he watched the kids and looked at them at play.  How he saw with pride each of them.  How precious they are and how much he loved them.

And then he rolled over and left this physical world.  There was no pain.  There was no discomfort.  There was no panic.  It was a simple movement from this world to the next.  God reached down and quietly lifted him out of his body and took him to the next world.  It was easy, and smooth and a comfortable transition.

Non-believers will say that during the night I justified his death in my own mind.  And non-believers will find their own explanations in all things.  But I know what happened during the night.  I was there.  I had the presence of God with me.  I talked to God as if he were sitting on the side of my bed. And we argued some.  I told him about my shock and my anger.  I asked why I was not allowed to be more prepared.

But when morning came,  I knew that God had been with me all night.  He had tolerated my anger.  He had carried me through the scenario many times.  He allowed me to question and he had provided me with the strength to get through the night.  But most of all, God provided me with his peace.  He let me know that He was with me and life was going to be OK.  My husband was fine and I would be also.  What a great God I have that would allow me this night of processing and would take me into His heart and grant me grace and peace to live through death and life.