Working Through Weariness

In the span of 11 weeks, my daughter married the love of her life, my mother-in-law succumbed to her lengthy battle with a disease, and my middle son graduated high school.

If I’m honest, I’m bone-tired, friends.

The wedding was beautiful. The weather was gorgeous (for Michigan winters anyway) with the sun streaming through the stained glass windows and the groom eagerly awaiting his bride. Several of the guests described the wedding as the sweetest wedding they ever attended. My sons even sang to their sister as she danced with my husband (watch the video here). As I gazed upon my husband of 22 years leading our daughter across the dance floor, I kept thinking, “these are my people” and I was filled with overwhelming gratitude. At the end of the day my daughter said, “Mom, it was everything I ever wanted for my fairy tale wedding.” Not much else fills a mother’s heart than a happy child.

During wedding week we were able to visit my mother-in-law while she was in the hospital. It’s a miracle for all 6 of us to get together, let alone visiting my mother-in-law who’d been given a year to live five years ago. During our visit, my kids were able to tell her about their adventures of living in a new state and the challenges that came with integrating into a new culture. Toward the end of our visit, the kids blended their voices together in harmony as they sang a few of their choir songs. My dear mother-in-law, whose body was weary for this world, leaned over in her bed and allowed their sweet voices to minister to her soul. We prayed together at the end of our visit and knew that if this was the last time we see each other in this world, we would see her again in heaven. Mutual love for the Lord our God gave us hope for a reunion.

She passed three and a half weeks later.

Grieving the death of a parent was new for my husband and I. And I wasn’t sure how to support him as he flew back and forth to take care of her before she breathed her last. We did our best having deep conversations with our kids about grief and loss and tried to help them process their emotions. Sorrow in loss is deep and cutting, but it’s the hope in healing that carried us through.

We couldn’t stop long on the road of sorrow, because we had a son’s achievement to celebrate. As the third child to graduate high school I was fairly comfortable with throwing a graduation party, but let me tell you, it was tough. It wasn’t the planning or setting up that got to me. It was the aching feeling of utter aloneness that hit me hard. Without family support or close friends we’re still very much an island in our city. We have yet to be successful in finding a church to rally around us and help us cross the finish-line of raising our kids. So, we did the best we could and threw a party for my son and his friends. They were happy and enjoyed snacks and sodas, but for me there was a noticeable void of rejoicing with those that know us. That know our family. That know the ins-and-outs of our family dynamics.

Now that we’re through these beautifully challenging weeks, I’m bone weary. My heart is full of joy and sorrow and I hardly know which one I’ll be feeling tomorrow, but I’m determined to continue pressing on. This song, “Praise before Breakthrough,” has been on repeat on my heart and playlist for weeks as I work through my weariness.  

“Now that we’re through these beautifully challenging weeks, I’m bone weary. My heart is full of joy and sorrow and I hardly know which one I’ll be feeling tomorrow.”

This year is definitely one of the busiest ones for my family, but it will be okay. My husband and I decided at the beginning of this year that with so much activity (including my oldest son moving out at the end of the summer) that we just need to extend extra grace to each other as we navigate this year.

How are you extending grace to yourself, dear friend? What song is helping you pull yourself up by the spiritual bootstraps? How can I join you in prayer for the battles you’re facing? I pray you’re able to praise before your breakthrough. It will come. I just know it.

Will You Ever Be The Same After Life Knocks You Down?

They say a picture is worth 1,000 words. Take a minute to look at this picture and tell me what you see.

I see a tree that has been beaten down to a breaking point, but somehow fought to stay alive.

This tree reminded me of myself. Maybe it reminds you of yourself too.

My husband and I were recently at La Jolla Cove in San Diego. We were captivated as we watched the cute baby seals frolic in the water while their mothers were nearby sunbathing or barking at them to play nicely. As we walked along the boardwalk I noticed this tree. At first, I thought it was dead because of its humble posture toward the ground, but I quickly realized I was mistaken.

I couldn’t find any research about this tree, so I’d like to propose it has weathered many storms. It sits on top of a cliff overlooking La Jolla beach, facing the vast Pacific Ocean where the pristine waters can be seen 30 feet down. I don’t know when this tree first sprouted or when it fell over, but by the root system I’m going to assume it was once a healthy robust tree, enjoying the salty sprays of the ocean, the cool summer breezes, and the idyllic location of water-front property.

And yet, despite it’s best efforts to grow a storm knocked it down to near oblivion.

Can you relate? Storms seemingly come out of nowhere and break us at our roots, shatter our backbone, and cause us to cry up to the living God “Why is this happening?”

I don’t know why we have storms. I know Christ suffered and through his suffering, He was made perfect (Heb 5:8-9). I know in our suffering we can glorify God (1 Pet 4:14). But suffering can really suck the life out of you and make you question everything you’ve ever known.

I have FOUGHT to stay alive after weathering the storms of life. There were times I was so beaten down by life and cursed by the voice of the accuser that I thought I would live in my pain and suffering forever. But the voice of TRUTH reminded me of my value. My purpose. My place as a daughter of the King and I began to dig down deep. I found courage and began to soak up the rivers of hope that rejuvenated my soul.

I may have been knocked down, but I’m too feisty and too stubborn to stay down forever. My regrowth took a long time. And I feel I’m still crooked in some ways, but I’m alive and I’m shooting my hands toward heaven in efforts to praise God for bringing me through the storm and healing me from it’s effects.  

That is my prayer for you, my friend. If you have been broken at the core of your being and are not sure how you can ever stand up after this, take heart. Find hope. Encourage yourself in the Lord (1 Sam 30:6) and look to Him for strength. He WILL strengthen your heart.

Through the Fire and Back Again

I have a confession to make...I used to be afraid of the month of April.

It’s silly, I know, but it’s true. For years, something devastating would happen in the month of April. Events like a family member dying, a severe car accident, putting the dog down, and the worst of them all, our house fire. It’s been 15 years ago now, but when April comes around my thoughts turn toward the time in our lives when we lost everything on April 3, 2004.

It was a sunny Saturday morning and the dirty snow piles were yielding to the warmer weather. I was attempting to welcome the spring by cleaning the winter-beaten windows and inviting some fresh air inside, even though I had to stop and rest often to nurse my 8-week old baby and redirect my 2 year old as he played. Their dad was working and their two siblings were at their grandparents house.

It was late in the afternoon when my husband came home, parked his car in the garage, and went to get cleaned up. It was only a few minutes later when I smelled something unusual. I couldn’t place it as a normal country-living-smell. Our neighbor wasn’t burning trash or leaves. This was different - like plastic and oil burning hot.

I glanced out the front window to see plumes of white smoke billowing out of our garage. I ran to the door only to discover flames shooting out from my husband’s car.

I screamed for help.

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We don’t anticipate the fires in our lives. We welcome the restful rain that soothes our souls, the warm sunshine that gives us hope, and the crisp breezes that blow away the unnecessary fluff that clutters our lives. But fire is an unforeseen event that is hard to prepare for. A fire is unforgiving and will gnaw and chew through anything in it’s way. It doesn’t regard an irreplaceable homemade Christmas decoration or love letters that were written by teenagers who fell in love and got married. Fire destroys all in it’s path until it can be beaten back by water which ironically also destroys.

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We lost everything that day. The fire that began in the garage (next to gas cans and hunting ammunition) shot through the rooftops, blasted through the empty attic, and burned the house top down. Thankfully no one was injured as we stood in the backyard and watched the firemen get the blaze under control.

It took months to find normality again. Homeless, yet still paying a mortgage, we shifted to temporary housing as we planned to rebuild our home.

The charred house was bulldozed sometime in July, nearly 3 months after the fire. In this picture, you’ll notice the iris that grew through the ashes and broken glass. Even though the bulldozing was necessary in order to rebuild, I couldn’t watch. I couldn’t face seeing all the memories stored inside that home razed to the ground in a few moments.

When we experience fires in life that destroy, it paves the way for a rebuilding process. The alternative is to remain inside the rubble and lament over what was lost. Believe me, I did plenty of that, but I couldn’t LIVE there.

The book of Nehemiah has been a tremendous comfort to me as I’ve experienced seasons of being torn down and seasons of being rebuilt. If you’re unfamiliar with the story, Nehemiah was working in another city serving a king. He learned of his city sitting in shambles and with permission of his employer, he set out to rebuild the wall.

But there was opposition. His “frenemies” mocked him, sent him accusing letters, and tried to trap him into sin, but Nehemiah pressed on. I want to talk more about this another time, but I want to leave you with this final thought. If you’re in a season of rebuilding, meditate on this scripture.

“Do not be afraid of them. Remember the Lord, great and awesome, and fight for (your family). Those who built on the wall, and those who carried burdens, loaded themselves so that with one hand they worked at construction, and with the other held a weapon.”

Nehemiah 4:14 & 17

The rebuilding process is arduous and sometimes even those closest to you will not understand your struggle. Don’t be discouraged. Rebuild with one hand and fight with the other. You ARE equipped for this. In your weakness God’s strength can move through you. Rely on Him to get you through this.