You know the movie, Top Gun. Remember, at the end, when Goose dies, Maverick's Commander gives the order to get him back up in the air as soon as possible.
This is what comes to mind about me singing in worship. I blame my Worship Pastor, Steve Holt. Lol!
It is tough. I have tried walking away before. The rocks start crying out when I don't sing to Jesus.
I was thinking about walking away again after my Mom died. Everyone would have understood. No one would have been surprised.
It is exceedingly difficult to sing now. However, for me, it is yet another part of my healing process.
Here is the deal. I still believe that God is good. He is faithful to me, even when I am not faithful to Him. I have been given book after book filled with Scripture reminding me of all this and more. Scriptures that I have memorized, quoted and written in sympathy cards through the years. I know they are true still.
A very dear friend of mine said when tragedy came quick to her, the Lord reminded her of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego. They expected the Lord to deliver them from the fiery furnace, but even if He did not, they would not worship their gods or gold images. This gave my friend hope and comfort. This is good wisdom for people in the midst of tragedy or difficulty. Find your Scripture that you always can go back to, even if it is familiar.
This inspired and motivated me to find some Scripture to cling to from the very beginning of my Mom's diagnosis, February 2010. The Lord reminded me of Job 2:10b. "Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?" (By the way, I am a numbers person... 2:10 vs. 2/10, seems like a coincidence the Lord would do as a gentle reminder for me.) If you read Job 1:21b, it says "The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away; may the name of the LORD be praised." Tough words.
I have seen the Lord work in so many ways through so many years. Jesus is my Savior and Lord of my life. He is unwavering and constant. This does not change, thankfully.
"Any faith that leaves us unprepared for suffering is a false faith that deserves to be abandoned. Genuine faith will be tested by suffering; false faith will be lost - the sooner, the better. Believing God exists isn't the same as trusting the God who exists."
-Randy Alcorn "The Goodness of God"
This does not make my grief and sorrow disappear. I am sad, very sad. I miss my Mom so much it hurts, literally. Do I question God? YES! Do I get mad at God? OH YES! Can He take it? Absolutely, read your Bible!
It is interesting the books I read before all of this. A lot of them were about David. Talk about not being afraid to pour out his heart to God, bad and good.
One of the books I read was called "Get Over Yourself" by Jennifer Beckham. She references the story of when David's baby son dies.
"Then David arose from the earth, and washed, and anointed himself, and changed his apparel, and came into the house of the LORD, and worshiped; then he came into his own house; and when he required, they set bread before him, and he did eat."
2 Samuel 12:20
She writes:
"Understand that his situation had not changed - his son was still dead. But I believe when David washed and anointed himself after the death of his son, he was remembering when he was first anointed to be king. Studies show that when a person was anointed, there was a distinct aroma that permeated off of them from the oil. It was evident to anyone near them that they'd been anointed. Maybe he was saying to himself as he took the oil, I was chosen. I'm a king.
Perhaps as he applied the oil onto himself, he spoke those words aloud. Perhaps as the aroma filled the room and he breathed it, he got a new attitude. David had a revelation, one that you need to grasp as well: He could not change his circumstance, but he could change his attitude."
That is why I still sing, or like this morning in Sunday worship, let the words be sung over me while I ball my eyes out. I can't help the crying. It is like a river of life and once it starts it just won't stop. Some words (that are still true) are just hard to say out loud for me at this point. Again, I know all these things. It will take me longer than David to get up, wash up and remember I am a Princess.
Until then, thank you for supporting me through the tears, through the music.
I also read "Facing Your Giants" by Max Lucado. There is a chapter called "Unspeakable Grief."
"Amid the answers we think we know and the many we don't is this one: death stinks.
Death amputates a limb of your life. So Jesus wept. And in his tears we find permission to shed our own. F.B. Meyer wrote:
"Jesus wept. Peter wept. The Ephesian converts wept on the neck of the Apostle whose face they were never to see again. Christ stands by each mourner, saying, 'Weep, my child; weep, for I have wept.'
Tears relieve the burning brain, as a shower in the electric clouds. Tears discharge the insupportable agony of the heart, as an overflow lessens the pressure of the flood against the dam. Tears are the material out of which heaven weaves its brightest rainbow."
We don't know how long Jesus wept. We don't know how long David wept. But we know how long we weep... Am I the only one who senses that we hurry our hurts? Grief takes time. Give yourself some."
And time is what I have and I am grateful. So, I guess this is me "getting back up in the air."
"Take my voice and let me sing, always, only for my King."
-Frances Havergal (one of my favorite hymn writers)
"Our griefs cannot mar the melody of our praise; they are simply the bass notes of our life song: To God Be the Glory." -C.H. Spurgeon
One of my youth girls gave me a wind chime last year. It says "Life is a song. God's love is the music." I realized a while back, I am just an instrument, He alone is my music and song, thankfully. That is the only way I can say or sing the words "Glory to God."
Thank you for your continued prayers and support through this difficult time.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Would you like a nice cup of hot water?
When you are a care giver, it is similar to having a newborn. Sometimes you forget to eat. You rarely sleep. You just start losing your mind a little bit.
Matt and I rarely drink coffee, but when my parents moved in, I started preparing the coffee every night for my Dad. He needs his morning coffee!
No worries! Ha!
So, on one of the crazy nights, I forgot to put the coffee into the filter... oops! So, it was just a pot full of hot water... Sorry Dad!
He graciously made his own coffee that morning without complaint, but he did razz me a little later that day.
Comes with the territory! Good times!
This also was the night that I had gone into my Mom's room to say good night as usual. She looked up at me with a look that I did not recognize. She looked... young and suspicious, like when my boys have done something and don't want to confess. It was funny.
She looked up at me and said, "Are you going to do it?"
Well, this was not my first crazy dream like question I had been asked from her.
So, I said, "Heck yeah, I'm going to do it... what is it that you think I am going to do?"
She said, "Spray that stuff on that car!"
I laughed and asked, "Do you not want me to?"
She got the funniest look on her face, almost coy and mischievous. She shook her head no.
So, I said, "OK, I won't do it, I'll just go to bed."
She seemed happy that I had decided not to do whatever it was and leaned up and kissed me good night.
I have no idea what childhood memory this is from, but it was cute to see a side of her I had never seen before. She was such a rebel!!!
Matt and I rarely drink coffee, but when my parents moved in, I started preparing the coffee every night for my Dad. He needs his morning coffee!
No worries! Ha!
So, on one of the crazy nights, I forgot to put the coffee into the filter... oops! So, it was just a pot full of hot water... Sorry Dad!
He graciously made his own coffee that morning without complaint, but he did razz me a little later that day.
Comes with the territory! Good times!
This also was the night that I had gone into my Mom's room to say good night as usual. She looked up at me with a look that I did not recognize. She looked... young and suspicious, like when my boys have done something and don't want to confess. It was funny.
She looked up at me and said, "Are you going to do it?"
Well, this was not my first crazy dream like question I had been asked from her.
So, I said, "Heck yeah, I'm going to do it... what is it that you think I am going to do?"
She said, "Spray that stuff on that car!"
I laughed and asked, "Do you not want me to?"
She got the funniest look on her face, almost coy and mischievous. She shook her head no.
So, I said, "OK, I won't do it, I'll just go to bed."
She seemed happy that I had decided not to do whatever it was and leaned up and kissed me good night.
I have no idea what childhood memory this is from, but it was cute to see a side of her I had never seen before. She was such a rebel!!!
Saturday, February 12, 2011
The Pregnancy Chair
In 2004, when I was pregnant with Preston, I started having lower back pain. So, we went to Mathis Brothers and looked at recliners. The salesman said I was a good advertisement for these kinds of chairs! (People were watching as the crazy pregnant lady tested out chair after chair.) We found one that was dark blue, since we knew we were having a boy.
I loved this chair! It became known as the "Pregnancy Chair." We had never really bought any living room furniture before. So, this was a significant investment. Two years later, I enjoyed the chair once again through my pregnancy with Bennett. It has been a great chair. Actually, until our recent upgrades, it was the nicest piece of furniture in our living room.
My Mom had not been able to sleep in a bed for a while. When she would come to visit, she would sleep in this chair. Even in their own home, she had to sleep in a recliner. The tumor on her side was so large and so painful.
So, when she and Dad moved in December 14, 2010, it became known as "Mama J's Chair." We eventually moved it into our guest bedroom. Instead of bed-ridden, she became recliner-ridden.
Here is the irony. A chair that first awaited life was now awaiting death. That is some special chair.
The day after she died, we had to tell my boys what had happened. I will never forget what came next. After we told them, Preston and Bennett were crying. Suddenly, Preston got up from the couch and walked into her room. He saw the empty chair.
He had to see it. And this just ripped me apart.
We had to get rid of the chair. Since she could not take medicines orally, we had been giving all of the medications in gel form. The chair was soaked in morphine. We could not have the boys touching any of this. So, the chair had to go. A Recliner Retirement if you will.
It had finished it's cycle of life. But, I will never forget that chair.
I loved this chair! It became known as the "Pregnancy Chair." We had never really bought any living room furniture before. So, this was a significant investment. Two years later, I enjoyed the chair once again through my pregnancy with Bennett. It has been a great chair. Actually, until our recent upgrades, it was the nicest piece of furniture in our living room.
My Mom had not been able to sleep in a bed for a while. When she would come to visit, she would sleep in this chair. Even in their own home, she had to sleep in a recliner. The tumor on her side was so large and so painful.
So, when she and Dad moved in December 14, 2010, it became known as "Mama J's Chair." We eventually moved it into our guest bedroom. Instead of bed-ridden, she became recliner-ridden.
Here is the irony. A chair that first awaited life was now awaiting death. That is some special chair.
The day after she died, we had to tell my boys what had happened. I will never forget what came next. After we told them, Preston and Bennett were crying. Suddenly, Preston got up from the couch and walked into her room. He saw the empty chair.
He had to see it. And this just ripped me apart.
We had to get rid of the chair. Since she could not take medicines orally, we had been giving all of the medications in gel form. The chair was soaked in morphine. We could not have the boys touching any of this. So, the chair had to go. A Recliner Retirement if you will.
It had finished it's cycle of life. But, I will never forget that chair.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Death Pains vs. Birth Pains
To some, this is going to sound morbid. But, I have actually heard several people say similar things. So, here goes.
My comparison theory.
Birth Pains - When you are about to have a baby, you have contractions. Sometimes, you even have false labor. And the labor process itself is (most of the time) long. There is a lot of waiting.
Death Pains - When someone is dying, there are things that happen when they are closer to the end. I won't go into details, but if you have experienced it, you can relate. It is extremely interesting. In the three weeks she was under Hospice care, there were THREE different times the nurses told me it was closer because of some of her symptoms. See, like false labor... Again, there is a lot of waiting.
No one can predict exactly when a baby is going to come into this world. It is the same thing about someone leaving this world. No one knows except the Lord.
Also, pain management. Women are amazing! And sometimes, you cannot get the pain of labor under control. This is also wildly true of someone who is terminally ill. I called it "double negatives." One day, her pain would seem to be more bearable, but her nausea would spike up, or vice versa. It was a struggle to watch. I remember Matt's eyes watching me through my labor with Preston. He wanted so much to take the pain away. I wanted so much to take the pain away from my Mom.
I only had 4 weeks. I was a "care giver" to my Mom for 4 short weeks. I cannot imagine going through months or years of the sort of agony that transpires when you are watching your loved one die. It is brutal. Each week, each day, each hour, it seemed like things were going downhill fast, too fast.
On the day my Mom died, 1/11/11, someone asked me if I had said good-bye yet. I had said "good-bye" THREE times, probably more than that, actually. Every night seemed like good-bye. She was so strong.
At around 2:00 P.M., the Hospice nurse checked her vitals and went out of the room quickly, then rushed back in. She re-checked her with the finger thing that shows your heart rate and oxygen level. It was blank. She looked up at me and said if we had any last words to say to her, this was the time. Again, you cannot be prepared for moments like this. It was very sad and hard because she was still breathing.
Here is something positive. The night before she died, she was able to mouth the words "I love you" and make eye contact with us and smiled when we said we loved her. She knew we were there.
It is almost like when a baby comes out and immediately recognizes his or her parent's voice. Babies know who loves them.
And my Mom knew she was loved. It should be that way at the beginning of life and at the end.
I have been able to see babies come into the world. It is a beautiful thing that can only come from an amazing Creator.
I had never been able to see a soul leave this world. As hard as it was, let me tell you it is something to behold. And I am so blessed to have had the privilege of being right by her side, along with my Dad and Matt. My Worship Pastor, Steve Holt, was there as well. When she took her final breath, he reminded me that when a Believer passes, they are immediately face to face with Jesus. WOW! Talk about your divine appointment.
We had been listening to music and Steve had been humming in the background for the last 4 hours, while we waited. (Again, with the waiting!)
At 6:15 P.M. on 1/11/11, I looked at her and knew that the music she was hearing was better than anything here on this earth. And I was just so relieved and grateful that she was with Jesus and there was no more pain or suffering.
1/11/11
Leave it to a computer programmer to die on a day that we can literally never forget.
My comparison theory.
Birth Pains - When you are about to have a baby, you have contractions. Sometimes, you even have false labor. And the labor process itself is (most of the time) long. There is a lot of waiting.
Death Pains - When someone is dying, there are things that happen when they are closer to the end. I won't go into details, but if you have experienced it, you can relate. It is extremely interesting. In the three weeks she was under Hospice care, there were THREE different times the nurses told me it was closer because of some of her symptoms. See, like false labor... Again, there is a lot of waiting.
No one can predict exactly when a baby is going to come into this world. It is the same thing about someone leaving this world. No one knows except the Lord.
Also, pain management. Women are amazing! And sometimes, you cannot get the pain of labor under control. This is also wildly true of someone who is terminally ill. I called it "double negatives." One day, her pain would seem to be more bearable, but her nausea would spike up, or vice versa. It was a struggle to watch. I remember Matt's eyes watching me through my labor with Preston. He wanted so much to take the pain away. I wanted so much to take the pain away from my Mom.
I only had 4 weeks. I was a "care giver" to my Mom for 4 short weeks. I cannot imagine going through months or years of the sort of agony that transpires when you are watching your loved one die. It is brutal. Each week, each day, each hour, it seemed like things were going downhill fast, too fast.
On the day my Mom died, 1/11/11, someone asked me if I had said good-bye yet. I had said "good-bye" THREE times, probably more than that, actually. Every night seemed like good-bye. She was so strong.
At around 2:00 P.M., the Hospice nurse checked her vitals and went out of the room quickly, then rushed back in. She re-checked her with the finger thing that shows your heart rate and oxygen level. It was blank. She looked up at me and said if we had any last words to say to her, this was the time. Again, you cannot be prepared for moments like this. It was very sad and hard because she was still breathing.
Here is something positive. The night before she died, she was able to mouth the words "I love you" and make eye contact with us and smiled when we said we loved her. She knew we were there.
It is almost like when a baby comes out and immediately recognizes his or her parent's voice. Babies know who loves them.
And my Mom knew she was loved. It should be that way at the beginning of life and at the end.
I have been able to see babies come into the world. It is a beautiful thing that can only come from an amazing Creator.
I had never been able to see a soul leave this world. As hard as it was, let me tell you it is something to behold. And I am so blessed to have had the privilege of being right by her side, along with my Dad and Matt. My Worship Pastor, Steve Holt, was there as well. When she took her final breath, he reminded me that when a Believer passes, they are immediately face to face with Jesus. WOW! Talk about your divine appointment.
We had been listening to music and Steve had been humming in the background for the last 4 hours, while we waited. (Again, with the waiting!)
At 6:15 P.M. on 1/11/11, I looked at her and knew that the music she was hearing was better than anything here on this earth. And I was just so relieved and grateful that she was with Jesus and there was no more pain or suffering.
1/11/11
Leave it to a computer programmer to die on a day that we can literally never forget.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
One month ago
Monday, January 10, 2011
I remember the night before my Mom passed quite well. Matt and Dad were watching the College Football National Championship. I was in her room listening to her hum to 70s music. Each night it would get harder and harder to say good night. But this night, for some reason, I just started weeping uncontrollably. Matt and Dad came in about 11:00 P.M. They both were wondering if something significant had happened.
Nothing had happened. The Hospice nurse had come that day and said her breathing was becoming a bit more apnea style, but that was normal.
The truth is, looking back now, it was my last night with her and I guess, somehow, I knew it. You can never prepare for these things. And this night, I knew it was the end.
"The End." What horrifying, profound, fascinating words. This process absolutely blows my mind.
More tomorrow. The inevitable "one month" mark. Lots to say.
I remember the night before my Mom passed quite well. Matt and Dad were watching the College Football National Championship. I was in her room listening to her hum to 70s music. Each night it would get harder and harder to say good night. But this night, for some reason, I just started weeping uncontrollably. Matt and Dad came in about 11:00 P.M. They both were wondering if something significant had happened.
Nothing had happened. The Hospice nurse had come that day and said her breathing was becoming a bit more apnea style, but that was normal.
The truth is, looking back now, it was my last night with her and I guess, somehow, I knew it. You can never prepare for these things. And this night, I knew it was the end.
"The End." What horrifying, profound, fascinating words. This process absolutely blows my mind.
More tomorrow. The inevitable "one month" mark. Lots to say.
Beginning of Ramblings
Every good book has an excellent beginning. The beginning of this "book" has been inspired by my Mom, who kept a blog of her thoughts for the last year of her life. I feel so fortunate to have that to look back on forever. That is the thing about technology; through Blogs, Facebook, etc., people's legacies can live on even more. Pretty cool.
I can't promise it won't get ugly, but it is part of my growth process, so I have been told...
Thanks in advance for your support.
the A.D.D. Cinderella
AKA Shiloh Wolff
I can't promise it won't get ugly, but it is part of my growth process, so I have been told...
Thanks in advance for your support.
the A.D.D. Cinderella
AKA Shiloh Wolff
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