All of the changing dreams

I almost wrote this last night. . . but you know when you get into that comfy position, the lights are already out, and even if you are awake thinking still, you know you're going to settle in to the exact physical position you are in?

So yeah.  Anyway.

It's been a whirlwind of about 10, 12 days for me.  It started with traveling past Disney for the first time in over three years and having a visceral reaction as I made my way towards Tampa. . . a drive I made many times back and forth to Moffitt. . . and from there some strange things happened that I still don't completely have straight in my head.  But I know that that was Friday the 11th, and by the 17th depression was at my door.  I spent most of the 18th in bed, not sleeping or watching Netflix or doing work or listening to music, just. . . existing at the lowest possible state.  A handful of people saw me that Friday, and on Saturday, and they knew something was up, but I couldn't really explain it to them, because I didn't quite understand it myself.  But I know that part of it was just recognizing that there's a lot of stuff still buried deep inside me that I haven't explored and/or don't even know exists.

And so I got it in my mind that it is time to start going through the storage unit, a trove of things that I hastily moved out of our house, a semi-organized mountain of things that are mine, hers, and ours, the outer shell of what I am quickly finding to be a multi-layered process. . . so that has been my life for the past few days.  I've made five trips and I think I've gotten a little over half the stuff.  There are only two more large-ish furniture items left, which is a good thing because our apartment can only hold so much stuff.

Needless to say, it's been an interesting few days.

I don't think I'm at a place to document all of the findings, because what I've discovered is two-fold:
1) There are certain things I want to keep but cannot necessarily handle really dealing with yet
2) There's just a lot of stuff

This first step in the process is quickly becoming about organizing things into keep, sell/donate, and trash.  At first I was moving along steadily, maybe because the first set of stuff was easy to work through, but the thing that caught me off guard and slowed me down was finding cards.  Cards that I wrote to her that she kept (and she kept every one of them).  Cards that she wrote me.  Cards that people wrote us for our engagement, wedding, and just at random as we went through cancer treatment.  Cards people wrote me and the family after her death.  I forgot how many people loved her dearly, and loved me because of her, and vice versa.

Those have absolutely been the hardest artifacts up to now.  And it's been hard not to read every single one of them, and it's been hard to make myself read every single one of them.  I know that this is a thing that I'm going to have to keep and go back through, because they are things that have grounded me in reality for the first time in a while.

And I think there are many reasons, obvious reasons, that those cards have triggered a lot of feelings. . . but I think the thing that sticks out for me is the lost dreams.  Remembering where we were and the plans we were making when we were engaged, and even before when we were coming as our own persons and recognizing that we were going to do life together. . . watching the monkey wrench of leukemia change our wedding date, our honeymoon, our employment, our relationships. . . and ultimately knowing that we had to give up some dreams, but we never gave up on each other.



When people ask "how can I know God is in the midst of all of this?" my answer usually includes something like "there is literally no part of my life right now that I planned on being this way."  My call within the Church, where I'm living, what I'm doing currently as a job, the circle of God's family that I'm doing life with, being widowed. . . none of these things were my dreams.  If we want to go all the way back, Cam was going to finish her degree and then land a full-time university gig.  We'd probably have to adopt, but I'd be the part-time gigging stay at home father.  Gig for pleasure, gig for planning ahead, gig for extra Disney cash.  We'd be sure to find opportunities to play together, maybe even do some of our own arranging and publish some music.  And although some of those dreams had to be given up early on. . . I still miss the thought of them.  And we formed new dreams, but they were much shorter term, and we lived some of them.  Cam got the wedding she wanted, we bought a house, we shared life between two churches. . .

I have to be careful when I say "nothing I'm doing is what I planned"  because it is easy for that to be negative and bitter.  And I know sometimes I feel that way.  But I am also amazed at how God's hand has been in literally everything, so that I can confidently say "I didn't do any of this, it can only be God."  I'm going to be 30 in a month (literally from today), and my plans for where I would be at 30 are not God's plans.  I have to trust that His are better.  I know that they are, as I've been in Psalm 68 the past couple days, and a few verses stick out to me:

v. 4- 5 Sing to God, sing praises to his name; lift up a song to him who rides through the deserts; his name is the Lord; exult before him!  Father of the fatherless and protector of widows is God in his holy habitation.

v. 9-10 Rain in abundance, O God, you shed abroad; you restored your inheritance as it languished; your flock found a dwelling in it; in your goodness, O God, you provided for the needy.

v. 19 Blessed be the Lord, who daily bears us up; God is our salvation. (Some translations say "who daily bears our burdens")

v. 34-35 Ascribe power to God, whose majesty is over Israel, and whose power is in the skies.  Awesome is God from his sanctuary; the God of Israel—he is the one who gives power and strength to his people. Blessed be God!


May I continue to be able to say "blessed be God!" as I continue to sort through all of the things.

All of the unexpected things

So I was gearing up to write something about running, and I probably will sometime after the race, but as I travelled across the state, something unexpected happened.  First, I stopped at Disney, which surprisingly enough was not in my original plans.  I hadn't thought past "hey, you're going to be driving on Friday!" and when I put the address in my phone, I saw I was taking I-95 S to I-4 W to I-75 S.  Sooooooo yay for random Disney trip!  I didn't stay too long, because I didn't want to tax my legs too much.  It was after leaving Disney that it happened.

I forgot.

I haven't driven past Disney in over three years, and I discovered that I forgot.

I forgot how many times I had driven down the corridor between DeLand and Tampa.

I forgot what a significant portion of my and Cam's life together was spent traveling that stretch of road.

I forgot about the countless trips, many alone, sometimes silent, sometimes screaming, sometimes praying, always crying out.

I forgot about knowing the way without looking at a map.

I forgot about Dinosaur World.

I forgot about the times where my arms went numb from holding so tight to the steering wheel, as if somehow that was what would give me control.

I forgot. . . I forgot. . .

And isn't that the ultimate fear?  That someday you'll just. . . forget everything?  It doesn't make any sense, but it's a real thought.  But also. . . it made me realize that there's a lot inside me that I am totally unaware of.  Being stable and being healed are not the same thing.

But while I was having this realization/meltdown, this is the song that was in the background:

And I wept.  Which. . . never bothers me. Actually it bothers me when it's been a while, and actually I was recently thinking that I haven't cried in a while.  Like, at all this 2018.  It's not necessarily odd, because I've never been much for that, but. . . anyway, I was crying for two reasons.  One part was just living in the reminiscing, the realization of how much life happened in such a short time and how much that I don't seem to currently have access to without some kind of trigger.  The other part though was in remembering that I'm not alone on this journey and I never was.  It was good, overwhelmingly good, to remember that God really is sovereign, that He has been orchestrating this journey from the beginning, not just three years ago or five years ago or even 29 years ago. . . but always.  And He is bringing glory to Himself through it.

And I get to play a part in presenting that glory to a broken world who desperately needs salvation.

So I'm asking myself questions. . . or rather. . . I'm taking time to answer questions that have already been asked.  I'm trying too hard and waiting too long.  It's time to really start jumping back in.

And there's nothing to be afraid of, because I know Who leads me.