September 1st

Around the first of June...I thought there was nooooo way I would ever make it until today. I can't tell you how many times I said or thought, "If it would just be
September...". I figured if I could see may way out of the oppressiveness of summer...surviving until September...I imagined I would be able to find my footing and start to climb out of the deepest darkest hole ever.

And if you had told me on June 1st...that by Sept 1st I would have moved, prepared two kids to start a new school year, done two garage sales, be a soccer mom, survived a week without my husband, and done a myriad of other things...I would have literally thrown up on your shoes.

My heart is still broken. I miss Gary. I miss Neal having Gary for a brother. I miss Kim. I miss having that sister. I miss hearing their names. I miss their jokes. My heart THROBS every time I walk by my closet and there is Kim's shirt hanging there...or glancing over at the bouquet from her wedding...or finding her picture in some spot I wasn't expecting it. JUST today I found baby pictures of Gary in my MOM's garage leftover from a project I was working on.

It still hurts on September 1st. Its not over. Its not gone. I still can't make decisions very well...or handle stress like I could before...or make it through a single part of church without crying. Even a budget meeting. 3 months...might as well be 10 years.

I am finding my footing. Finding a new normal. I started really cooking again...we haven't eaten out all week. I made roast, pretzels, homemade pizza, homemade macaroni and cheese. I'm surviving hard changes in the relationships around me...and not being shattered by them. (Loving people is hard and messy sometimes.)

And each degree that the thermometer drops...I know we are getting closer and closer to fall. And that oppression of summer and heat and time...is lifting. Not so much that I'm free or healed. But enough I can see small changes.

I even need to get my hair trimmed. (I cut it mostly off -- in an effort to have a way to proclaim grief -- and to mark time).

I even have a little to give others. Or at least I try. If you had told me on June 1...that by now I could handle anyone else's pain on top of my own...I would have to hand you a mop again for your shoes.

I feel stained. Stained with death, horror, grief, ugliness, smallness, brokenness. And at the same time, I feel redeemed. Redeemed by understanding, rebuilding, compassion, grace, and defeated death.

Without God, I would be nothing more than ash. Burnt up and destroyed.


A friend and I are working our way through Beth Moore's study, "Breaking Free." We have found this study to be timed to reach directly into our day and announce -- Here is the message from the Lord your God."

--From the study this week:

God never allows or appoints a fire unless He can bring beauty from the ashes. He can bring you through without even smelling like smoke. (Lord...the smell of the smoke chokes me sometimes...can you really remove even the smell??? Please, Lord.) We cannot often refuse the fire, but we can refuse to be refined by it. (Please Lord, refine me. Don't let the fire be for nothing.) The ultimate goal of the Refiner is to see HIS reflection in the precious metal. (I could not ask for more.)

Isaiah 61:3 -- To all how mourn in Israel, he WILL give beauty for ashes, JOY instead of mourning, praise for despair.

Genesis 32:26 -- But Jacob panted, " I will NOT let go until you bless me."