Remembering Dan

• Interesting

  06Dec
  Categories: Grieving, Musings Comments: 1
  Interesting statement I read tonight:

  Some of us are more public about our grief; others are not.  Don’t assume that just because someone shows no outward sign of grief doesn’t mean it is not there.

• Hang In There

  21Nov
  Categories: Grieving, Musings Comments: 4

  “Hang in there.”

  In my depression and despair my heart cried, “Hang in there till when, till what?  What does my future hold?”   I often feel at a loss as to where to place my hope for the future.  As much as I know it would be good for me to have some future goals and dreams, something to work toward, I find it impossible to think much farther than the next day or week.  What can I say?  I was made to complement a dreamer, not be the dreamer.

  I miss my dreamer.  I miss his hugs, his stimulating conversations, his protection, his presence, his heat, his touch, his love, his enthusiasm, his help . . .  each one of those words creates a picture in my mind and his loss, my loss, makes my heart ache. 

  Do I have the hope of being that fulfilled part of a whole again?  Dare I let myself hope?

  “Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted within me?  Hope in God: for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance, and my God.”  Ps.43:5

  “Be of good courage, and he shall strengthen your heart, all ye that hope in the LORD.”  Ps. 31:24

  “Behold, the eye of the LORD is upon them that fear him, upon them that hope in his mercy;” Ps. 33:18

  “Thou art my hiding place and my shield: I hope in thy word.” Ps. 119:114

  “The LORD is my portion, saith my soul; therefore will I hope in him.” Lam 3:24

  Hope in God, hope in the LORD, hope in His mercy, Hope in His Word, Hope in Him . . . I have hope.

  “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the LORD, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.” Jer 29:11

  His thoughts are of peace, mine should be too.

• Satan Does Attack

  20Nov
  Categories: Grieving, Musings Comments: 3

  It’s been a rough week.  I’ve had a night or two where I just cried and cried.  I had a morning where I wasn’t sure I was going to make it out of bed I was so depressed.  I have kids who are testing the waters.  And I have been trying to get ready for a school break (not to mention Christmas).

  I think Satan has been attacking us.

  That sounds so dramatic.  I’ve seen people react to a statement like that with disbelief, the raised eyebrow, pride, and avoidance.  Who am I kidding?  I think I’ve reacted like that a time or two myself.  Usually the concept isn’t exactly something I want to face and so I push the thought away with the belief that Satan isn’t really concerned with my family and my petty problems. 

  But Satan is just as concerned with my family and my witness as God is.  And therein lies the real struggle.  If I truly believe that I am of importance to God, that He has His eye on me, that He loves me, and that He has His hand in my life, then Satan, as God’s enemy, would naturally want to do all he could to hurt me and discredit me.

  And if I truly believe in the power of Satan, then maybe that would cause me to cling to my God in a more meaningful way.  I can rest safely in the arms of my God without fear of Satan, but I need to be aware of Satan’s presence and be careful not to ignore his potential.

   Pro 19:23     The fear of the LORD tendeth to life: and he that hath it shall abide satisfied; he shall not be visited with evil.

• Hug a Widow Today

  15Nov
  Categories: Grieving, Single Parenting Comments: 3

  I got a hug.

  That isn’t exactly unusual.  I get lots of kid’s hugs, family hugs, and lots of the ladies at my church aren’t afraid to give me a friendly hug every now and then.  But this time I got a “man hug.” 

   [Definition by Me: hug given by a male old enough to be married; the process of being comforted, encouraged, or strengthened by a male in the more mature category]

  I used to get at least a dozen of those a day.  Now I’m on rations and each one is special.

   

  There have been several men who have been brave enough to give me a hug since Dan died and I think I remember every single one.  Some hugs were given as a “hello” or “goodbye,” some were given in sympathy, some with enthusiasm, some out of concern, and all were given with godly love.

   

  Many of these men have risked the wrath of girlfriends, fiancés, or wives.  They have bravely hazarded the possibility of gossip and questioning looks.  They have jeopardized their ‘tough man’ image, and they have boldly faced the threat of piles of children demanding ‘I want one too!’

   

  For every man out there who has dared to hug a widow, I just want to say “Thank You!” from the bottom of my heart.  And I just want to encourage any man who dares to read this blog to “hug a widow today.”  They will be eternally grateful.

  (Of course, prudence must be exercised . . . )

  (Oh, and don’t you ladies think your hugs aren’t appreciated, too.  Keep it up!)

• Looking for Love

  04Nov
  Categories: Grieving, Single Parenting Comments: 3

  A note Benjamin (8) wrote last night   (ps: his teacher is still working with him on his spelling) :

  I love you God and i hope you are halping Daddy.

  and i want you to get us a new Daddy and i dont want hem

  not to do wath we wated.

   

  Translation:

  I love you God and I hope you are helping Daddy.

  And I want you to get us a new Daddy and I don’t want him to do the things we didn’t want him to do (eg. smoke, drink, drugs, beard, fat . . . )

  Today:

  after countless hugs and demonstrations of ‘clingyness’ I pulled him into my lap and asked him what he was looking for, and gave him examples: are you looking for attention, your shoes, a new daddy, a hug . . .

  His reply: 

  I’m looking for love.

   

  Sigh.  I can’t give it to him, or at least not enough. 

  And I warned him tonight that a new daddy won’t be able to fill that hole either.  Only Jesus can fill that hole.  It is obvious to us as a family, due to our circumstances, that there is a hole (I believe everyone has a hole, it just might not be as noticeable) and I realize a little bit more each day that we will never be complete until we reach heaven.

  Lord Jesus, come quickly.

• Legacy

  29Oct
  Categories: Grieving, Musings, Remembering Dan Comments: 9

  I’ve felt a push, . . an external force, . . implying that it was important that Dan leave something behind; something that will make an impact on this world.  I have, on occasion, tied myself up in knots trying to come up with something valuable that I can say he left to the world at large.  There is always the argument that he left seven kids, but they don’t even know him.

  Sometimes a sense of panic assails me when another part of Dan disappears.  For example: A friend dies and another witness to his life is gone; his computer crashes and his work vanishes into thin air; his children don’t remember playing games with him; I can’t remember what his favorite candy was; a book that had his name written in it gets lost . .    I am well aware of how temporal this world is, how nothing will last, and even though I am encouraged to “build a monument” in his honor, I know it just won’t work.

  Today, as I faced the second anniversary of his home-going, I was musing on the verse that says we ought to lay up treasures in heaven and I realized something.  Dan’s legacy is not in what he left behind, but in what he has before him.  His legacy isn’t here on earth; his legacy is up there in heaven.

  Another part of Dan goes missing from this world because everything in this world will fade away, but the things he laid up in heaven are the things that are still there.  I don’t have to be concerned with keeping a “legacy” down here.  Dan doesn’t care anymore, God has one where it counts, and we will get to share in that legacy when we get to see him again.

  No, the things that I have and keep are just for my kids and I, not necessarily to remember (although it helps), but to give us comfort in our pain.  And as we grow in the Lord we will be able to turn more to Him for comfort.

  Thank you, Lord, for giving us an eternal legacy and a place of importance in your family.

• Reality

  22Oct
  Categories: Family Updates, Grieving, Remembering Dan Comments: 6

  It has been a looooong week.  Several parties, a body that is still adjusting to Not being pregnant, doctor’s visits, over-nighter, school work, company, . . . .  and underlying all of that is the awareness that next week is our 2 year anniversary of Dan’s home-going.

  I miss his big ideas, his talking me to sleep at night, grouching at him to get off the computer and spend some time with his other wife, his hugs, his comments on my clothes, his input on the kid’s training, his assistance with the kid’s training . . .  I miss being a part of a whole.

  Apparently I’m not the only one that is missing  him, or a Daddy in general.  Imaginations have been running wild here lately about what our ‘new daddy’ will be like and all the things a Daddy will do with them.  I need to remind them that Daddy’s usually have to work and that a daddy probably won’t be around as much as they think he would or should be.  That’s part of the problem with imaginations . . they have little to do with reality.

• Wild

  15Oct
  Categories: Family Updates, Grieving, Single Parenting Comments: 5

  Benjamin (8) told me tonight that he wants two Daddy’s.  He knows Jesus is his Daddy, but he wants another one. 

  I wish I could get him one for his birthday.

  I’ve missed him too, these last couple of days.

  “What do we call a ‘daddy’ when we adopt him?”  he also wanted to know.

  I was amused at the idea of adopting a Daddy, vs. a Daddy adopting the kids.

  I’m just waiting for the day one of my kids walks up to someone and asks them if they will be their new Daddy.  I’m trying to come up with an alternate reaction to blushing profusely and trying to disappear into the woodwork.

   

  Maranatha (3 going on 4 next week) made me laugh today.  She was the last one at the table for breakfast this morning.  I was in the school room when she pipes up and says, “I’m eating too much sugar on my waffle because I want to be ‘wild’ today.”  =) =)

  I love my kids!  =)

• Heart of Flesh

  06Sep
  Categories: Grieving, Musings Comments: 5

  Our speaker yesterday during church made the comment about how God takes our heart of stone and turns it into a heart of flesh, a living breathing organism.  That’s not a new thought to me, but I was struck by another thought (POW!) =). 

   

  God wants us to be vulnerable!

   

  I look around me and see the American mindset, “I can do it myself.  I don’t need anyone.”  We revere impenetrable figures like Superman and the Hulk.  We are fascinated by movies portraying invincible vampires and superhuman strength.  We don’t like pain, it hurts us.  And so we avoid it at all costs.

   

  But that’s not what God wants.  He wants us to be sensitive to those around us.  He wants us to be tender to the touch of the Holy Spirit.  He wants to use the pain in our lives to draw us closer to Him.  You can bet that if you aren’t in a position to feel pain then you aren’t where the Lord wants you to be.

   

  Sounds a little sadistic, doesn’t it.  And I remind myself that that is the world’s mentality.  I don’t want to be one of those weak wimpy Christians that caves at the suggestion of torture.  I don’t want to be an ineffectual soldier that can’t take a blow from the flat of a sword.  I want to be a Stephen who accepts the blows of the rocks being thrown at him and looks toward heaven crying for the forgiveness of his persecutors.

   

  That sounds like it could hurt . . .

   

• Facing Death Again

  05Aug
  Categories: Grieving Comments: 3

  A dramatic title for the death of a cat isn’t it.  Nevertheless, . . .

  We knew the cat was going to die.  He was living at my parents, but moved to our house this last week.  It was probably further away from his brothers and sisters whose exuberance for life was probably a little rough in his weakened condition.  I could hardly bear to watch him as he lay on my porch struggling to breathe.  I wanted Dad to take him out and shoot him and end his misery, the poor thing.  And then last night we found him in the garage on a pile of hats and scarves; Gone.  This morning one of the kids dragged him outside to a spot easily visible from my laundry porch and I could feel the panic start to set in. 

  I want to cry and curl up into a ball.  Fear seems to be the predominant emotion.  I’m afraid to look death in the face.  My heart feels exposed again.  I’m vulnerable and weak.  I’m not afraid to die.  I’m afraid to be the one left alive again.  I’m afraid to be the one who bears the burden of living.  It would be so much easier to die.

  Oh God!  You are not the God of fear.  You are a God who loves me and wants what is best for me.  You will protect and provide.  You cover me with your wings.  You hold me in your arms.  My heart can be this vulnerable and exposed as long as you are a great walled fortress around me keeping me safe from the enemy’s darts.  Your strength is all I need.

  My brother-in-law has removed the cat.  I push the panic at my Savior (vent my emotions on my poor computer), take a deep breath, and smile as I go to help my kids get their desks ready for the new school year.  I’m facing my future one moment at a time.