Soundtracking

I could qualify this week with at least a dozen cliches, but I shall not. It was heavy. Emotional. Stressful. Grief-filled. You get it. 

I set this week aside to really dig into my parents' belongings, to pack, sort, prepare to sell, and decide what to keep. I knew this process would be painful, and I have been dreading it for the past three months. Oy. To the day. I didn't even realize it until I was typing that sentence. Three months since Daddy died.

I also knew this journey would be an adventure. Even the unique relationship between a parent and child does not allow for the child to know everything, and so I keep making pleasant discoveries, finding little treasures, laughing my way through piles of keepsakes mixed with old bills and letters and greeting cards. Dad clearly liked those cards that play music when opened. I believe I have found half a dozen or so that he gave to Mom.

I am not a wallow-er, but this grief journey has definitely had wallowing moments and unexpected emotional outbursts. Last week while shopping in K-Mart with my dear children, "Tears from Heaven" began to play. I went through a brief Eric Clapton stage in late high school-early college, so I began to lightly sing along as this is what I do. About 1/3 of the way through the song, I stopped in my tracks and realized what I was singing.

Mom's funeral song.

I decided that we should have chosen obscure music for Mom and Dad's funerals, and I texted my sister to tell her so. The Sunday prior to that shopping trip found me quietly crying in church as a flute duo played one of Dad's funeral songs, "You Raise Me Up." Oh how glad was I that they didn't ask me to play with them for that piece! 

So, music...it's getting to me. No one who has been reading this blog for long is surprised by this, and absolutely no one who knows me is even giving it a second thought.  This is how I tick.

As I was going through Mom and Dad's stacks and stacks of random bills, paperwork, recipes, photographs, etc, I listened to music. I found myself drawn to old CDs of mine. Steven Curtis Chapman, Michael W. Smith, Amy Grant...maybe it's because that is the sound track of my teen years, when last I lived with my folks. Maybe I'm over-analyzing a little, but the soundtrack of my week was very, very old-school.

In the midst of all this emotional hum-drum, we were observing Holy Week at our house and at church. I do not merely love this week; I absolutely look forward to it for 51 weeks (I am aware it is sometimes more or less) out of the year waiting for the opportunity to reflect anew on all that Jesus did for me. It is my favorite week of the year. I look forward to celebrating the resurrection with all that I am, and I did not find it necessary to search for eucharisteo, thanksgiving, as I went through this most holy season in preparation for this Sunday's celebration. 

Life is hard. There is still thanksgiving. It is right there in front of you if you just take a moment to look.

396. German shepherds romping in snow covered field

404. This doesn't get easier each time I come, but it is such an incredible privilege

405. Oodles of eye glasses and sunglasses 

407. Blistex. The scent of Mama's kisses

408. Daddy's aftershave

414. Moments of private worship

421. Hugs from Lukas out-of-the-blue

424. "I can see!"

430. The flicker of the candle

435. Reminder to give myself time

Sharing Grace

I have no time for writing a blog post this morning, but I find myself compelled to do it anyway. When my Father blesses me, I want to tell you about it. I want to tell all sorts of people about it. Don't you think more people should do so? Why are we so forward in sharing prayer requests and so relaxed about sharing praise? It is as if we are telling the world, "Shower me with attention for my troubles," and forgetting that, even in trouble, there is blessing. God carries us through it all, and we should share it all.

A few years ago, this topic came up during a discussion with a group of friends. I didn't necessarily agree completely with the person telling me that I was quite the doomsday bearer that she seemed to think I was (she wasn't merely pointing the finger at me, I should say, but the group of friends in general), but, instead of arguing the point, I took it as a challenge. Focus on the good. Share your blessings. Why hold back when God is showering you with grace? Big and small! Does grace ever come in a small package? It's all big enough to share. Tell all! Praise God for all things. Praise Him in the good and the bad. 

Today I read this...

"It is suffering that has the realest possibility to bear down and deliver grace. And grace that chooses to bear the cross of suffering overcomes that suffering."

Ann Voskamp

324. Prayers with Eric over the phone

329. The knowing of true friendship

331. Knowing the feeling of missing my weekly phone chat with the sister I love

338. The smell of cinnamon wafting from the oven

345. Meeting with Jesus in a perfectly planned worship service

346. Flutists playing Daddy's song

353. Sincerest "thank yous" from grateful kids

358. Mama's Bible. Her handwriting

364. "I will not leave you as orphans. I will come to you. " John 14:18

369. The privilege of praying for a friend

Fully Loaded

I had to go to  Zanesville this afternoon for our homeschooling co-op. The nearest Starbucks to my house is in Zanesville. There are two of them. One is part of a strip-mall and has a drive-thru, and one is in Kroger. I have said it many times, and I will repeat it for you, "Starbucks and the zoo are the only things I miss about Columbus."

True story.

So after co-op today, I treated myself to a trip to Kroger followed by a quick stop at Starbucks (the one with the drive-thru. Even my kids thought this crazy, but I didn't want to juggle my coffee and the groceries). I ordered a tall vanilla latte, no, I changed my mind! Venti vanilla latte on ice.

I took the first sip of yumminess and was surprised by the creamy, extra deliciousness that I guessed only tasted so fantabulous because I hadn't had one in 6 months or more.

Then I'm pretty sure my eyes bugged out as I realized...

Starbucks deprived moms shouldn't be allowed to order their own coffee.

There was no skinny. There was no decaf. That coffee was fully loaded.

I came home, changed my clothes, turned on the Wii, and put Just Dance 3 on the Just Sweat mode.

It was so worth it.

I promise I'm not in a sugar coma, but I can't promise that I will be sleeping any time soon.

What's your favorite indulgence?

354. Vanilla latte deliciousness. Fully loaded. Perfection in the form of a beverage.

The Sacrifice of Thanksgiving

"Sacrifice thank offerings to God, fulfill your vows to the Most High, and call upon me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you, and you will honor Me."

Psalm 50:14-15

This is the verse which the Lord gave me today for meditation. I was so struck by it and what it meant to truly thank God for the hard stuff, the stuff you would rather not experience, the stuff that leaves scars...

the stuff that forces you to grow.

171. God-ordained quiet moments when He gives me exactly what my impatient, selfish heart needs rather than what I think I want.

 

204. Allowing the warm tears to drip off my cheeks after a brief stop at Mama and Daddy's very empty house.

310. Oh that I had never felt this deep sadness, I might not recognize true happiness when it comes my way.

313. Divine privilege of time spent with Mama...doctors appointments, hospital rooms, Saturday afternoons chatting and napping, cooking, serving, lunches with just the two of us.

314. Divine privilege of mourning with Daddy...two hard weeks spent with the first man I loved.

315. Daddy sitting beside me in one of my darkest hours.

Capturing Grace Moments

My quest to capture all that is meant for my good is on-going. I am reading One Thousand Gifts at a snail's pace, but I am absorbing it, thinking it through, analyzing, researching. It might take me a few months complete this journey. Most of the time, I save the book for the end of my quiet time, and then I read a partial chapter a few times a week. Some days, like today, it seems that the Lord is divinely directing me to read the pages of the book. 

I have spent many moments crying lately. Difficult waves of emotion are mixed with the good, which is harder to find as of late. I see it, but I can't seem to grasp the happiness and joy long enough to sustain myself. I want more joy and less difficulty.

I have little patience for myself when it comes to feelings of sadness. I scream at myself in my head. "Push yourself! Get through this! Don't slow down!" Sometimes, I speak the words aloud. "Today, you are going to do what you have to do." And I do. 

Usually.

As I was sitting still to have my quiet time today, I began by writing in my private journal as I normally do. It wasn't long before the tears were streaming down my face as I relived precious moments with my mother, bittersweet time with my daddy.

God directed me to read from One Thousand Gifts on this specific day. The words were there for me to read. It was divinely directed that I read the chapters of this book at a snail's pace so that on this very day, when I needed to hear Ann Voskamp's inspired words, I would know that God planned them for me.

I know. I truly know that God is carrying me through this, allowing me to weep, listening as I pray, holding me in the palm of his almighty hand. God is God, and God is good, and I know this to be truth.

273. She still holds my hand. Her choice.

281. "I love to read."

291. Rowen's voice

296. The worn pink-gray leather of my Bible, well loved for nearly 20 years

301. Belief

303. Bedtime conversation with 9 year old Ava

305. Piggies with bright pink hair bows

10 on 10 March

I actually remembered to take my 10 photos on the 10th this month. I didn't get a chance to post them last night, so here they are for your enjoyment! They're not all the best this month, but I had fun taking them.

Yesterday was KidStuf Sunday at church.

Beautiful girl enjoying a drive with the window down on a warm March afternoon.

Grill Master Husband

Amish parking lot

Aren't they lovely?

Closer look. We had a nice long chat.

LOVE these glacial rocks!

Super cool old school. Makes me sad to see buildings like this all closed up.

Back side of the school. Isn't that an awesome fire escape?

Beautiful gift from the manly one.

To see more 10 on 10 posts, CLICK HERE. 

Looking Through the Window of Blessing...7

I'm still learning through this book, One Thousand Gifts. Some days, I write a dozen or more gift-moments in my notebook. Other days, I chronicle only three or four. I watch as I am doing this and realize that it is less about my attitude on those days and more about the busyness of any given day. I should toss my notebook into my purse when I am out and about. Maybe then those days will reflect the true gratitude I feel for each gift. Maybe then I'll remember those moments that I don't seem to be able to remember once I am home.

Voskamp mentions repeatedly throughout the book that these gift-moments, full of joy, seem to come to life when written down or spoken. She compares us to Adam, naming the animals. I'm naming the gifts. It's an interesting parallel that I am not even able to begin to explain well to you, so I suggest you do what I'm doing. Read the book. You will love her fresh perspective.

250. Random hugs from a boy never too big

253. Happy boy sounds as he works his way through a chore

255. Eric's safety protected in an auto accident

258. Piggy-tails

262. Brief reminders of dear Aunt Ruby

263. Ava's reaction to me in a pretty dress