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| Today would have been Bill's 43rd birthday. It's a good day. A day to celebrate a father and a husband, a brother and a son. We are so blessed to have so many happy memories of him to share. I am so thankful for all of the kind thoughts and prayers of those who have commented and posted on facebook. Thank you so much for sharing his special day! I decided to take advantage of our earlier-than-usual spring weather and went for a walk this morning. I took a different route than usual, choosing the muddy, pothole-ridden path of dirt road that winds around the back of the lake. It was a bit more challenging than the smooth paved road I normally walk, but I figured it would be more conducive to quiet meditation: fewer cars, fewer people to feel obligated to connect with. I just wanted some quiet time alone... I pulled up one of my favorite Nichole Nordeman songs called "River God" and listened to it a few times. I have liked this song for many years and have heard it performed beautifully in a way that touched my heart by a friend from long ago. Once in a while I listen to it and realize the words will always ring true throughout my life on this earth. Have you ever held a "river rock?" These are rocks that have become completely sanded and smoothed by years of water and sand washing over them as they lay in the deep river bed, or ocean bay, depending on where you are...River rocks are almost soothing to the touch, aren't they? They are a pleasure to hold and run your fingers along, unlike rocks found on other terrain. The latter have rough sides and sometimes sharp, jagged edges. Trying to "pet" a rock like that won't bring much pleasure or peace--at best maybe a scratch or two. The song address the topic of change. Not the sudden "turn your world upside-down and you've got to do something about it right now" kind of change, but rather the type of change that takes a lifetime to really embrace. It's been five years since my world changed rather drastically on a dime, and I've spent that time trying desperately to seek, find, and conquer the changes that I need and want to happen in my life. Often I try to look back and reflect on a period of a few weeks or months to find evidence of good changes in my attitudes and habits and reactions to things. And I get impatient at my apparent "lack of results." In her song, Nichole speaks of God being the one who occasionally picks up and inspects the river stones, feeling them for more rough edges and cracks, and carefully settling them back into the deep of the riverbed, to endure more time of rushing icy waters and the refining abrasive sand. Maybe I've been trying to do too many inspections by myself. And maybe by doing so, I'm not giving myself enough time to be "weathered" by the elements God put in my path. Perseverance...my teacher, my annoying, nagging teacher. I'm not a very willing student. I've always been a more "product-oriented" person who gains more satisfaction and gratification in the completion of something, rather than the "process-oriented" types who gain more from the process and are often fulfilled long before the end (if they even bother to finish). But I can't help feeling like I'm taking myself out of the process too often, too soon, to appreciate the subtle changes that actually are happening. Picture yourself back in school, sitting at a desk in one of the most boring, tedious classes you ever had to endure. You are fortunate enough to be sitting near an open window, and you can sense the world awakening just outside: spring birds chirping, chattering about where to build their nests; the smell of clean on the light breeze blowing in and across the room; the shadows of your hand being cast on your school desk by the warm, inviting sun. But you look impatiently at the clock on the wall, and you realize you've just barely sat down and have almost an hour to wait to leave. Sometimes I feel like this classroom is my world, with God as my teacher. Don't get me wrong--God's the best teacher there is. But well, let's be honest...sometimes He goes on and on about subjects we'd rather not listen to. And there can be SO much homework! Sometimes it seems as though I'll never get a passing grade in this course and I'll be doomed to repeat it over and over, taking and failing the same tests. Won't I ever get any smarter? Won't I ever get to move up to the advanced learner's group? How about spring break or summer vacation? I don't know about you, but I can get pretty tired of learning lessons, and really just want to bust open the school doors and run free on the playground. Heck, most days I'd even settle for a hall pass--just a quick study hall or lunch break, please? Thankfully, I do get to have those, thanks to my wonderful teens who give me the opportunity to "run away and play" for the day with one of my many amazing friends. I am so grateful for those passes, aren't you? Yes, vacations would be great, but I know that I can be a stubborn child who just thinks she can't learn anymore and succumbs to allowing the dog to eat her homework so she doesn't have to think about it for another day or two...or ten. I am so grateful to have a teacher who has invested His whole life in me. And since He's lived for so long, I know He knows a thing or two about patience...and change...And I know he sees changes in me long before I can sense them myself. And when I do chance to catch a glimpse of those changes, I realize that I am not static, even if I can't feel myself moving in the water. We can't ever hope to change the shape of the water, but we can definitely feel the water changing and molding us. And so that is where I am willing to stay, even if the water is colder than my liking and the view from down here is rather murky. Even if the occasional bit of dirt gets into my eye. I think if I try hard enough, I can feel a bit of softening around some of my rougher edges... I once lamented to the heavens that I would never feel good enough, that I would never have accomplished everything that I was meant to do, and that I was a hopeless case. The answer was instant: "Well, Kim, if you had already done all I set out for you to do, then you'd be up here, now wouldn't you?" Oh...that's right...I guess the teacher really does know best... God bless you all today! | | |
| Well, I decided it was time to visit my blog and sweep out the cobwebs and visit all my blog followers (if there are any of you left--I know it's been a very long time)... First of all, I want to comment on the video I just posted below. This song has been a source of hope for me in the past few years. It is so blunt--the cry of helplessness, of loneliness, and ultimately of hope. I think it fits where I have been and continue to be...in the shelter of His wings, being carried through the storms of life, protected from its fits and rages. Sometimes I am stupid enough to walk away--to think that Christ is not enough to make me better or whole. I have been stubborn and demanding, like a child, but instead of the punishment I so often deserve, I only feel grace that I do not deserve... So here I am--here my family is--5 years "out" as they say. What do I say about this? I confess that over the past year I have barely taken any time to truly stop and meditate on things. Eight children with burgeoning schedules and demands, being "on-call" literally 24/7, has the effect of numbing exhaustion after a while. Don't get me wrong, being distracted with my amazing, talented, loving kids is a HUGE blessing. They keep my focus where it should be most of the time. But this past year literally feels like a blur--I am simultaneously preparing for driver's ed with one child, and potty-training another, and everything in between. I'm still waiting for Christmas...seriously...didn't see it come or go this year; it was just a blink of the eye. And so I must confess here that it was, at times, quite convenient that I didn't have time to think about the past and about missing Bill. I have met many widows/widowers over the past five years, and even amongst them I often feel like some sort of twisted pioneer. No, there is definitely no rule book for this one. I read about their heartaches and pain, their anger and fears, and I have shared most, if not all, of those feelings...I wonder if any of them feel this strange sense of living two lives. I had my life with Bill, years of marriage and babies and business ventures, times shared with my very best friend and lover. And now I have a second life...the one that has been a crash course in learning how to run a household and family as a single mom. I look in the mirror and don't see the same person I saw six years ago. Yes, unfortunately I see more lines on my face and ever-tired eyes and a few gray hairs sneaking their way through my hair, but it's more than that. I am different deep inside. And while we are on confessions, I am ashamed to say that I don't dwell on thoughts of him, or even have many dreams about him. Most of the dreams I do have of Bill are not pleasant ones. They are all versions of the same theme: For some unexplained reason, he is suddenly alive and well again, and just, well, "there" in my world. And I am searching for some way to explain to friends and family that he's back. And I am struggling to find a place for him in my new life. Sometimes I'm downright angry with him for coming back now. Upon waking, the painful truth was clear: He doesn't fit into this new life, and that makes me feel so guilty. I hear the cries of my fellow grievers, willing to give anything to have their loved ones back. I felt that way for the longest time. But now I wrestle with the reality that he would not find the same woman he married. I am not saying that I am better without him-not at all! But I am different. Out of necessity. Out of the desire to see where I am supposed to go; become who I am supposed to be. I have believed from the very beginning of this journey that God has had something special planned for me. Something that I obviously could not do with Bill here on earth (otherwise, he would still be here). I remember looking heavenward and saying, "Alright, God, I don't know what you were thinking when you ripped my life apart, but now it's up to You to piece it back together." And He has...and continues to grow me and stretch me in ways I never thought possible. But back to the "Five Year Mark." What is it about we humans that we tend to view our lives in roughly five-year blocks? Year four passed pretty uneventfully, but now comes that ominous "Year Five." I have pondered over the five-year milestones in my life, and found, ironically, at almost every fifth year, there was a big event centered around it: At five years old, my parents divorced and my world was rocked (for the first time). At 10, we survived the "Blizzard of '78" on a highway across Ohio. At 15, I found myself halfway across the world, leaving my mom for the first time, living with my dad for the first time, and changing the way I viewed the world forever. At 20 I was "Just Married" and beginning another chapter of my life. At 25, we moved into a new town and into our first real home. By the time I was 30, Bill was working in Boston and for the first (and last) time, we had more than enough money to pay the bills and to save for the future. 35 found me working full-time as a transcriptionist and venturing into a home business with Bill. Then I only got a 3-year breather before all hell broke loose. And so at this next notch in my post of life, I look back and am just so amazed at all that has happened in those short years. I have never felt so much joy and so much pain as I have in these years. I have never questioned my mortality and my purpose more. I have never felt more love, support and blessings from the people in my life and from God as I have in these past five years. I have watched the world change right before my eyes...dear friends whose hearts have been broken, others who have passed onto eternity. My children are growing up faster than any pervasive weed. At times, I feel like I've surely aged 10 years instead of five. In these short years, I have learned how to manage my finances, do my own taxes, refinance a house, oversee home improvement projects, and haggle with different insurance companies. I have had to humble myself to accept financial aid from the government, family, and friends. I have had to accept that I can never, ever repay all the kindnesses and sacrifices people have made for me and my family, to secure our survival. I have felt love's flutterings and stings, and came out better for it. I have come to the realization that I can do nothing completely by myself, but that I can truly "do all things through Christ who strengthens me." But here comes a wonderful realization: I may have two very different parts in my life that seem to be at odds. But we are a culmination of all of our experiences, right? God was preparing me for this from a very long time ago. His gift to me was not just the events that shaped me, but the people who walked alongside me through the years. Bill may not seem to fit into my present world, but he, unknowingly and lovingly, helped prepare me for the journey. We laughed, we loved, we fought, we forgave, and we grew together. And he showed me that it was all right to take risks, to make mistakes, to face my fears. He gave me courage. He gave me compassion. And oh, did he give me patience! :) He gave me eight beautiful children to love and who love me back. He gave me the best years of his life. I am so very, very blessed to have had the gift of his love for so many years. Because of who I was with him, I can be who I am called to be now. He always knew I could do it, and now I am trying to feel that I truly can... So now comes the question that inquiring minds want to know...Where do I see myself in five years? I wish I knew. I would like to think that great accomplishments will be made. That I will have at least three children graduated and venturing out into the world. That I will have established myself in art or photography or something I am passionate about. That my family will be flourishing and happy and healthy. That I will be taking much better care of myself: physically, emotionally, spiritually. And I truly hope that God has another person in mind for me to share the next leg of this journey with. But I don't yet have a clue...I guess you will all have to stay tuned... I want to end this by sharing a few music videos that have helped me put a voice to the ups and downs of the past five years. I hope they inspire you to think, to forgive, to let go, to love...as I have... Thank you, thank you, THANK you, my friends, for your faithfulness, encouragement and love. Each one of you has played a part at some point in my life to mold me into who I am today. I am ever grateful to you, and to God, who's love never changes... Lost Yet I Will Praise You We Live Your Grace Still Amazes Me Sand Think Good Thoughts | | |
| To my faithful xanga followers: I am starting a new blog at blogspot. The link is: http://adventroadlesstraveled.blogspot.com/ I am NOT going to close my xanga site, but I wanted to use the other site as well, since I follow other blogs there, and it kind of simplifies my life. I will post on both blogs...Please forgive me for being away so long... I suppose it's fitting that my first real post here is on the day that changed my life forever. Truthfully, I've not been blogging for a while because I've had to deal with some pretty intense and personal trials that I did not know how to share here in a safe way. But I am hoping to be more of a presence this year. I promise to try... I got the rare opportunity to get away for the day about a week ago with a dear friend and kindred spirit last week. We spent the day doing our favorite activity together, walking along beaches and hunting for treasures. It was a great day to unwind from the pressures of the previous days, and I really needed the quiet time to talk to God and to sort things out in my brain. It usually takes me a while to wind down the noise in my head and stop mentally checking off my "to-do" list. Frankly, I'm pretty good at busying my mind so that I don't have to dwell on the emotional side of grief and loneliness. After all, I do have a lot to take care of around here! But lately I've got it down to a science. Most times, I feel sadness coming on at the worst moments, so I just push it back into the box in my head, seal it, and stack it somewhere in the back of my mind. I'd rather deal with it tomorrow. But tomorrow, conveniently, never comes. There is always something more pressing to deal with. And so the grief box waits there...waiting to be dusted off and opened, to be given attention to. I think God pretty much has to take it and turn it upside-down and dump out its contents on top of me in order to get my attention, though. But on this day it was hard to ignore the quiet, so I focused on that all-important box. Don't get me wrong--I don't look at it as a way to have a pity party, or as a way of dredging up all the intimate details of my loss. Rather, it's an important time to reflect, to mourn, to hang on, to let go, to grow. So on this day, instead of focusing on the morbid details surrounding my life without my soul mate, I chose a wonderful fantasy instead. Sometimes I wonder what Bill would think if he could come back for a day and see what has been going on down here on earth while he's been enjoying his new heavenly life. I spend a lot of moments worrying that he would be disappointed in a choice I've made here, or a decision I've made there. I wonder if he would be sad that I had to let his business go, and feel sure that he'd frown upon my lack of consistency in raising the kids. If he were to walk into the house now, would he like the new changes, the new additions? Would he be surprised at who was still in my life? At who was no longer in my life? Would he approve of the things I've done for the kids? For the home? For our lives? I could torture myself with questions like these, but I try not to. It's foolish, really. I'm sure now that he's seen the glory that is heaven, all these things would seem so minor, so petty now...So I replaced this fretting with a better question: "What if he could come back for just one day, and it was the perfect day?" Years ago there was a sci-fi movie produced by Steven Spielberg titled: "A.I." Artificial Intelligence. Maybe you remember it. The plot takes place in a futuristic world where robots have evolved to feel emotion. A family "adopts" a robot boy to take the place of their biological son, who is in a coma and never expected to wake up. But by some miracle, he does, and suddenly the robot son is pushed aside as the biological son comes home. Throughout the movie, this robot child longs to be loved as a real human. After all, that is what he is programmed to be. After many plot twists and turns, the robot is given a priceless gift: The opportunity to spend just one day with his human mother. He gets to dictate how it will begin and end, and everything in between. But the catch is that he only has ONE DAY. And it was the perfect one...So here is MY version of that perfect day... I think the day would start with me waking up snuggled next to Bill in bed. To feel the warmth of his body, to hear the steadiness of his breathing, to listen to his first sleepy whispers of the day. Of course, we would only have minutes before the door to our room bursts open to reveal at least one wakeful child, ready for the day to begin. Lots of tickling and giggles would ensue, and finally we would get out of bed to find some breakfast. Will would make Bill's favorite breakfast (Bill never met a breakfast he didn't like ;), which would consist of scrambled eggs, hashbrowns, english muffins, and sausage. And on this perfect day, not ONE child would complain, but would eat everything in front of them ;) After breakfast, each child would get the chance to show Bill around their new bedrooms and the new parts of the house. Will would take the time to show Dad all he's learned about computers and share with him his desire to become a videographer. I'm sure he'd like to watch a NASCAR race with him too! Spencer would explain to him all the in's and out's of his latest Lego World creation, and would surely make his now famous pizza for his father that evening for dinner :) Connor and Quin would play wonderful songs on the piano for him, and Annika would don her favorite ballet outfit and dance to the Nutcracker for her daddy. He would be so proud! Ian would ask him 100 questions about heaven, and Hanson would probably just want lots and lots of hugs and kisses. And then there's Ryder...Little Ryder, who didn't even utter the word "daddy" until well into his second year of life. My bad. I never thought to teach him. That sounds awful, I know. Maybe it was just all too painful. But somehow (after all, this IS my fantasy), he would know that Bill was his daddy, and he would jump into his arms and give him that famous smile and say, "I just love you, Daddy." I know Bill would love his little boy and want to be with him every moment of that day... As for the afternoon, there are so many possibilities...maybe we'd go to the beach and build sandcastles and jump the waves, and stay until the sun sets. Then we'd come home and he'd take precious moments to tuck each and every child into bed, telling him he loved them more than life. Maybe he'd impart some fatherly wisdom to them, then give them one final hug and kiss. And then he'd be mine for the rest of that perfect day...Just him and me. We'd talk for a while. He'd ask me how I was faring. I'd be honest. Maybe I'd ask some important questions that I want answering, but then again, maybe it wouldn't matter any more. I'd ask him for advice and help on raising our now teen-aged boys. I'd ask him if he was proud of me. And on this perfect day, he would hold me, let me cry, and tell me I've done a great job, and that he loved me so much. I know he would tell me he had faith in me all along--that I was a strong woman, even though I don't think I am. He would tell me I'm the most beautiful woman he ever knew, and the only one he truly loved. And he would tell me that it's ok to want to be loved again. We would share one special, intimate night together before he returned "home." Yes, the perfect dream--one I would hate to wake up from... And so, this post marks another milestone: Year 5. I pray it's a good one... | | |
| OK, so here's a great story to give you a laugh today... As many of you know, this past weekend marked the 3rd anniversary of my late husband's death. I thank you all for your prayers--they were heard, and God is our comfort :) Well, my story actually starts last week, when I signed up for a new support group. I had heard about a site called "Meetup" which basically is a host site for hundreds of special interest groups that you can join. Well, I read up on the site and researched "widows/widowers support" and came up with a group in my state that was about 1 1/2 hours away. I signed up right away, glad to have the chance to talk to others who understand my loss. I noticed that they had posted an event--a brunch--that was to happen this past Sunday. I was a bit nervous about jumping right in and it was going to be almost a 1 1/2 hour drive, but I felt it would be fitting to attend my first event on this 3rd anniversary. I RSVPed that I would join the nine or so others who were planning to attend. Soooo, a bright and sunny Sunday dawned and I made the trek to the restaurant. As I entered the place, I told the hostess that I was here to meet a big group of people. She answered, "Oh, you must mean the group of singles." I said "Yes," and she led me to a large back room area where almost 30 people sat. They were far from serious and sullen. On the contrary! They were quite animated: eating, laughing, enjoying each other's company. I shyly approached the long table and a very nice lady stood up and introduced herself to me and then proceeded to introduce me to everyone there (of course I'd NEVER remember a single name :) I pulled her aside and asked her if this was the widows' group, and she said, "Well, we do have a couple widows, but we are not exclusively a widows group. We're basically a singles group who are all friends and like to get together to have fun." So I explained that maybe I misinterpreted the group I signed up for, or maybe it had evolved over time to include singles. Either way, I told her I was happy to meet so many nice people. Now I was shown to a table with only a woman and a man seated there. I became fast friends with the woman, who quickly took my under her wing. Inside, I kept thinking to myself, "What in the world am I DOING here?? I am SO clueless about how life "on the single side" works!" I really felt so awkward, and I questioned God's wisdom at allowing me to fall into this situation, but I decided to be a good sport about it. Hec, I had just driven over an hour to get here, and I wasn't about to turn around and go home with no stories to tell! So after the meal, people began milling around, and I became aware that other eyes were watching me as my own eyes shyly flitted from face to face, not quite knowing how to initiate a conversation. Thankfully I once again came alongside the organizer of the event, simply known as "MJ." She gladly introduced the people who were now wandering closer to the "newbie" to see what my story was. So just when I was beginning to relax a bit, a voice comes out of the crowd behind me: "Alright, who's ready for bowling?!" "Bowling?" I thought. They didn't mention anything about bowling in that event post...good grief! But my new friend from my table kept telling me that since I'd come all this way, I should just enjoy the day, so even after my protests of needing to get back home, I caved and decided, "Oh well, I've waded this far into foreign waters...I may as well dive on in." So after a fun game of candlepin bowling with some very colorful characters, I said my goodbyes, promising to find them in their chat room later and get to know them. All the way home I tried to digest what exactly had just happened-lol! Once I got home I was determined to figure out what happened to the original group I thought I had signed up for. And lo and behold, staring at my in my email was a note from one of the other members of the widows group talking about what a nice, quiet time he had at the brunch and how he enjoyed time spent with others like him. Alright...now I'm thinking, "Could it be possible? What are the odds that TWO groups of people, completely unaffiliated, were meeting at the SAME restaurant at the SAME time on the SAME day???" Well, my friends, after a quick email to the moderator of the widows group, my fears were confirmed! OHmygosh, I had been directed to the wrong group by that hostess! And the moderator from the widows group apologized profusely, saying they had noticed the large rowdy group in the back of the restaurant and had considered me a NO-SHOW! ROFLOL! Now here's the kicker--since I assumed I could find my new "friends" online, I didn't bother to get a full name or email from anyone (they only went by screen names or first names to ensure their privacy). And even after my futile attempt to get information from the restaurant staff on the phone later that day, I have almost NO chance of ever talking to these people again. They are going to think they scared me off! Sigh...so my last question after this whole experience was: "God, what exactly WERE you thinking?" Well, He didn't answer me, but my interpretation of an answer goes something like this: "Kim, I decided that you didn't need a day of serious contemplation. What you really needed was a swift push out into the world, to see how the other half lives!" Whatever the case, I really had a great time and LOTS of laughs--Now I'm just waiting for the phone call from the TV exec who's gonna ask me for the rights to my life for his latest sit-com ;) | | |
| Hi everyone: It's been a long winter here and I for one am thankful that signs of spring are showing. Today was a glorious sunny, blue-sky kind of day and I took advantage of it while writing down some thoughts on this eve of the anniversary of Bill's journey to heaven... "Here I sit, basking in the warmth of an unusually balmy late winter's day on my deck, pondering how different today's weather is compared to this day three years ago. On that day, the winter's merciless winds were still howling and the wind chill was below 0 degrees F. Yes...how different today is... It is the eve of the day everything fell apart; the last day I would experience the hum-drum daily grind that I knew as comfortably normal. And as I sit here letting the unbridled sunshine penetrate my skin and settle into a red fuzzy warmth behind my eyelids, I have but a few moments to reflect, to remember, to question... It seems as though I have lived another life before now. Almost as if I were reincarnated into this new person who now rests in the cushions of my wicker chair. In some ways I can still get into her head, her thoughts. I can recall her emotions, dreams, hopes, longings, fears. But in other ways, she is untouchable--a childhood friend whom I remember fondly, but have lost touch with over the years. This new person--this proverbial phoenix rising up from the ashes--she is more like a woman trying on a new dress for the first time. I stand inspecting her reflection in the dressing room mirror, smoothing out the fabric, checking all the important areas to ensure a pleasing, comfortable fit. I think about its purpose: "When will I need this outfit?" I ask myself, "Is it too tight in the hips? Too loose in the shoulders?" "Will I be able to move about freely to perform the tasks of the day, or will I expose too much of myself when I bend over to pick something up off the ground?" "Is the cost too much?" I wonder if I should try on a few different dresses for comparison. "After all," I muse, "this one could very well be out of fashion in a year or so." So the decision of whether or not to own these clothes remains a question. But one thing is clear: this woman standing half-naked at the mercy of a harsh fitting room 360 degree mirror is going to have to choose something to wear because, after all, her old clothes just don't suit her any longer..." It's hard to believe that it has been 3 years since Bill's passing. With another year under my belt, I look around me and I am so humbled by God's mercy and grace. I am surrounded by reminders of Bill, in the clever disguise of eight beautiful children, some almost ready to enter manhood, and others just beginning to see just how big this world is. There have been many moments when I watch one of them do something, say something, or get excited about a new achievement, and I feel that bittersweet sting of memories and milestones that Bill will not see. I ponder how much I complain about the craziness of the constant moving of bodies around this house, and trying to keep nine schedules straight, and then I stop and thank God for it, because it means we are alive and living life to it's fullest, one day at a time. I look at myself in the mirror and I wonder if Bill would still be attracted to the woman I've become. I'm not completely different, of course. I am still the person God created me to be. But in many ways I'm not the woman he promised to love until death do us part so many years ago. Don't get me wrong--it's all good. I am really looking forward to this new year with great anticipation. I'm finally defining myself as something I've dreamed of all my life: an artist. I'm taking a leap of faith this year with a dear sister in Christ as we venture into the unchartered and often changing world of the arts. It's both scary and exhilarating. But, oh, what therapy, what child-like release to grant myself permission to play in the paint again and to never leave my house without my camera to capture the wonders of this great big world God gave me to play in! My days are filled with my trying to balance all my many roles: mother, teacher, home manager, accountant, home repairman-er, woman, counselor, referee, daughter, sister, friend, confidant, artist, nurse, taxi driver, advisor and event organizer. There are still times when I get overwhelmed by it all and get depressed. I look up to heaven and say (again) to God, "Why in the world did You think I could DO this? I'm just failing You!" But He is so patient with me. He lets me vent, then in the quietness that follows when I'm spent, He reminds me that He never leaves my side. He is the head of my household now, and if I would just trust Him, I will be content... Tomorrow I am attending a brunch for a widows/widowers group that I have just joined. I'm a bit nervous, but I think it's going to be healing for me to be around others who have truly walked in my shoes, which, incidentally, they can keep. I think I've worn them out and I'm ready to get a new pair to go with that dress I tried on a few minutes ago ;) God bless you all and thank you again for following our story, for your prayers and support and love--I couldn't do it without you! | | |
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