This has been a strange week full of things that should not have been. And I've been angry. It's so easy to excuse anger, especially when you see it as a series of circumstances over which you have no control and little influence, and so therefore can do nothing about.
But that's only half of the story. Because we are in control of how we respond. Our emotions do not have to control our responses. So I have chosen to be angry about things this week, and the question I have been mulling over the past couple days is "why am I angry?" Really, when I look back at things, very little was all that terrible that I needed to be as angry as I was. So then, that points to an underlying problem, an anger because of something(s) else that instead of being dealt with directly is now channeled at all these circumstances (that I would honestly say 80% of the time I would have been pretty chill about).
So what is the real problem?
I think it's been two fold: first, that I'm not happy with some of my choices lately (see last entry) and so have not been as patient with myself as I could be; second, that as I continue to come back into living, I have to once again deal with my own ego. Both of these things are primarily tempered by taking a step back and gaining perspective. Camz was the best at doing that for me, and I try to find that voice inside myself. Well, sometimes I try. Sometimes it just comes. But probably more than I realize I have to make it a conscious effort.
It's also important to remember that anger is not necessarily a bad thing, but how we deal with it is. Psalm 4-
Answer me when I call, O God of my righteousness! You have given me relief when I was in distress. Be gracious to me and hear my prayer! O men, how long shall my honor be turned into shame? How long will you love vain words and seek after lies? But know that the Lord has set apart the godly for himself; the Lord hears when I call to him. Be angry, and do not sin; ponder in your own hearts on your beds, and be silent. Offer right sacrifices, and put your trust in the Lord. There are many who say, “Who will show us some good? Lift up the light of your face upon us, O Lord!” You have put more joy in my heart than they have when their grain and wine abound. In peace I will both lie down and sleep; for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety.
And more clearly, Ephesians 4:22-27 gives some direct instruction as it quotes that part of the Psalm-
You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness. Therefore each of you must put off falsehood and speak truthfully to your neighbor, for we are all members of one body. “In your anger do not sin”: Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry, and do not give the devil a foothold.
So it's a new week. A new chance to respond in and with the Spirit and not with my flesh. A week that I can either put myself forward or look to others' needs first.
One last thing- The Message version of Psalm 4 offers a couple of interesting images:
v. 1...- When I call, give me answers. God, take my side!
... and it's answer in v. 3- He listens the split second I call to him.
And then v. 8- At day’s end I’m ready for sound sleep, for you, God, have put my life back together.
10/21/2018
10/13/2018
All of the swirling emotions
The grief rock is weird. And this entry already feels scrambled.
September kicks off a 6 month period of crucial anniversaries, some happy and some not so much. But I had the recognition that the past few weeks I've been dealing with mood swings again, and the timing lines up perfectly. But awareness is the first step in being able to address an issue. I have a pretty good rhythm going with this semester (which, part of it is there is more space because I'm finished with the master's degree; I forgot how time consuming that really was) but I'm also realizing that I'm not making the best choices in dealing with my emotions. Some days I have done better than others, but at least I am fighting the tendency to isolate. And I'm doing my best not to let a temporary emotional state control my actions as much as possible.
Last fall I did not do a good job of fighting well. I think because I didn't want to deal with anything. I had had a good stride going in life from January until sometime in early August, and then I chose to fill up my life with all of the things instead of dealing with anything. And found myself empty and at the bottom of a dark hole by December. So the first part of this year has been about recovering from that, and really the end of summer/beginning of this fall I think I finally back on the living track.
So all that being said, I was reminded of Psalm 139, particularly v. 11-12:
If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light about me be night,” even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you.
Whether I choose to live in darkness or light, that cannot separate me from God.
Side note- I had the feeling I've written something like this before. And I have- May 2017. And several things in some of my personal journals. So. . . . yay consistency?
September kicks off a 6 month period of crucial anniversaries, some happy and some not so much. But I had the recognition that the past few weeks I've been dealing with mood swings again, and the timing lines up perfectly. But awareness is the first step in being able to address an issue. I have a pretty good rhythm going with this semester (which, part of it is there is more space because I'm finished with the master's degree; I forgot how time consuming that really was) but I'm also realizing that I'm not making the best choices in dealing with my emotions. Some days I have done better than others, but at least I am fighting the tendency to isolate. And I'm doing my best not to let a temporary emotional state control my actions as much as possible.
Last fall I did not do a good job of fighting well. I think because I didn't want to deal with anything. I had had a good stride going in life from January until sometime in early August, and then I chose to fill up my life with all of the things instead of dealing with anything. And found myself empty and at the bottom of a dark hole by December. So the first part of this year has been about recovering from that, and really the end of summer/beginning of this fall I think I finally back on the living track.
So all that being said, I was reminded of Psalm 139, particularly v. 11-12:
If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light about me be night,” even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you.
Whether I choose to live in darkness or light, that cannot separate me from God.
Side note- I had the feeling I've written something like this before. And I have- May 2017. And several things in some of my personal journals. So. . . . yay consistency?
9/18/2018
It's been a month. . .
. . . and what a month it has been. To be fair, the beginning of the school year is always a little crazy, and I didn't help myself by jet-setting the second half of summer.
I feel like I've written this entry in my head over and over and over, and it's finally time to put pen to paper. . . or fingers to keyboard. I forget sometimes that just thinking through things isn't quite enough, that for me at least I need to write things out both to organize and to dump the thoughts, whether it's out there for the world to see or not. I've been taking better care of my body since I've returned from New York, so I need to remember to take care of my mind as well.
I may have said some of this before, but I finally made a connection between two assumptions that are both wrong:
1) I never thought that this journey would get easier. . . but I did not anticipate that it would get harder.
2) When I chose to return to the world of the living January before last, I thought that it was a once-for-all-time decision. . . I did not think it would become a fight, sometimes daily.
For the first statement, I am an analyst. I research and look things up and try not to assume that everything applies to everyone but also that nothing applies to me. Yet somehow I'm still surprised when I've seen things like "Mental-health experts estimate it takes about two years for a widow or widower to absorb what has happened and be capable of making major decisions again." and look back and go. . . oh. Well. . . that makes sense. So you read things about how grief changes, and shifts, and ebbs and flows. . . but maybe those were meant to be used as sugar coated synonyms for "harder." "Much harder." I don't know. I do know that I'm still bad about being able to talk about Cam and yet wanting to do that more than anything.
As for the second statement, that has been all the more shocking to me. Not that I thought that everything would just fall completely into place, but I'm an all or nothing type person. Maybe it's just that desire for things to be black or white that helped me to get out of the haze in the first place, but still. . . the haze is there. It probably is emitted from the grief rock, and so if you stop for too long, you find yourself surrounded by it. But the thing about haze is that it's weightless. It's only real power is to keep you from seeing far forward, but once you start moving, things clear up.
I read this a couple mornings ago, the whole chapter is powerful but Eugene Peterson ends the paraphrase of Isaiah 40 this way:
Why would you ever complain, O Jacob, or, whine, Israel, saying, “God has lost track of me. He doesn’t care what happens to me”? Don’t you know anything? Haven’t you been listening? God doesn’t come and go. God lasts. He’s Creator of all you can see or imagine. He doesn’t get tired out, doesn’t pause to catch his breath. And he knows everything, inside and out. He energizes those who get tired, gives fresh strength to dropouts. For even young people tire and drop out, young folk in their prime stumble and fall. But those who wait upon God get fresh strength. They spread their wings and soar like eagles, they run and don’t get tired, they walk and don’t lag behind.
I feel like I've written this entry in my head over and over and over, and it's finally time to put pen to paper. . . or fingers to keyboard. I forget sometimes that just thinking through things isn't quite enough, that for me at least I need to write things out both to organize and to dump the thoughts, whether it's out there for the world to see or not. I've been taking better care of my body since I've returned from New York, so I need to remember to take care of my mind as well.
I may have said some of this before, but I finally made a connection between two assumptions that are both wrong:
1) I never thought that this journey would get easier. . . but I did not anticipate that it would get harder.
2) When I chose to return to the world of the living January before last, I thought that it was a once-for-all-time decision. . . I did not think it would become a fight, sometimes daily.
For the first statement, I am an analyst. I research and look things up and try not to assume that everything applies to everyone but also that nothing applies to me. Yet somehow I'm still surprised when I've seen things like "Mental-health experts estimate it takes about two years for a widow or widower to absorb what has happened and be capable of making major decisions again." and look back and go. . . oh. Well. . . that makes sense. So you read things about how grief changes, and shifts, and ebbs and flows. . . but maybe those were meant to be used as sugar coated synonyms for "harder." "Much harder." I don't know. I do know that I'm still bad about being able to talk about Cam and yet wanting to do that more than anything.
As for the second statement, that has been all the more shocking to me. Not that I thought that everything would just fall completely into place, but I'm an all or nothing type person. Maybe it's just that desire for things to be black or white that helped me to get out of the haze in the first place, but still. . . the haze is there. It probably is emitted from the grief rock, and so if you stop for too long, you find yourself surrounded by it. But the thing about haze is that it's weightless. It's only real power is to keep you from seeing far forward, but once you start moving, things clear up.
I read this a couple mornings ago, the whole chapter is powerful but Eugene Peterson ends the paraphrase of Isaiah 40 this way:
Why would you ever complain, O Jacob, or, whine, Israel, saying, “God has lost track of me. He doesn’t care what happens to me”? Don’t you know anything? Haven’t you been listening? God doesn’t come and go. God lasts. He’s Creator of all you can see or imagine. He doesn’t get tired out, doesn’t pause to catch his breath. And he knows everything, inside and out. He energizes those who get tired, gives fresh strength to dropouts. For even young people tire and drop out, young folk in their prime stumble and fall. But those who wait upon God get fresh strength. They spread their wings and soar like eagles, they run and don’t get tired, they walk and don’t lag behind.
8/14/2018
All of the traveling discoveries
The past six weeks have been quite a ride. . . but also strange in a lot of ways. Lots of fun, exciting, new things on the outside, lots of circles being walked around on the inside. I haven't been despondent like I was last fall semester, but I also haven't completely recovered from that. Definitely not where I was in the first part of 2017 (probably this is the closest thing to explain that), but it was those 5-6 months where I finally stepped out of the direct line of the suction away from real life, that place where you transition from 1st person living to 3rd person, the unattached objectivism of just trying to survive. What I didn't realize is that stepping away from that didn't mean that the suction stopped- and I think I didn't realize that I've been slowing been drifting back towards it. It was finally time I spent in New York that helped me get out of that.
But... I'll get to that. Let me tell the stories chronologically, and hopefully concisely, because this will probably be a little longer than I would like.
SO: Right before I went to Belgium, I bought a new car. I wasn't planning to, it had been at the back of my brain, but I went in for an oil change with yet another phone message from the dealership asking if I was interested in selling my car and getting a new one? Two years of that, at least, and after the car fire, it sounded good. But I owe money on the car! How does that work? So I went in and said "if you can give me a car with no down payment and no change in my car payment, then I'll gladly take a new car."
And they did.
The trade in value they assessed was $800 less than what I owed, and there was some promotion where the dealership had cash to put towards new cars, and so I walked out with a 2019 Kia Sorento. I also walked out with a pleasurable experience with the sales associate, who, at the end of our time together (which was probably all of 45 minutes, since I didn't need some crazy test drive and knew I wanted the same model car), said something to the effect of it's so nice to be around a pleasant person. So many people come in here with horrible attitudes and leave angry even when they get a new car, so thank you. I couldn't help but think that, even in all the quagmire of inner wrestling, the hope of Christ still shines.
So a few days later I went to Belgium. Well, I went and spent time with family between getting the car and flying out, but if I write about every single thing that happened, I might as well wait for NaNoWriMo.
Belgium was amazing. My second time at performing internationally, which sounds ridiculous (like. . . who am I??), but both recitals for ClarinetFest went quite well. We were lucky for the solo recital that we were in the conservatory, in a room built for performing, and that actually had air conditioning (as they were in a heat wave, so it was like. . . in the high 70s, so beautiful outside and slightly uncomfortable inside, depending on windows/cross-breeze). The landscape was beautiful, we were right on the NW corner of the country, so sunrise was on the right of the pier at 5:30 AM and sunset was to the left of the pier at 10:30 PM. The food, the environment, the weather, everything was great. And Ostend is not a particularly touristy place, so we actually enjoyed having reasonable prices and not super busy streets. Bruges was beautiful, and Brussels was also pretty but very touristy. It would not have been impossible to go visit a bunch of places, but I really enjoyed staying in town and exploring what was there. Maybe the small town mentality still in me. I actually found a church service in English, which was nice. The one thing I still dream about from the whole experience is the chocolate covered kumquats I found in one of the chocolate shops- they were probably the most unique and tastiest experience I had over the course of my time there.
Came back to Florida for a couple weeks, and then I drove up to Michigan to hang out with family. My nephew is ridiculously big and ridiculously smart (no bias). It was nice to have some midwest summer lazy days, away from the heat, away from the hustle and bustle. I also drove over to Oshawa for the weekend. Kyle and I pretty much tied at mini golf, saved three dinosaurs at Jurassic Park, and just had a good time catching up over poutine (it's so good, you guys). I got to walk around a city that, over a year ago, I wouldn't have given a thought, and I got to worship with people I find myself thinking of multiple times each month. It was good to hear Jared preach, and to catch up with him and Jen.
Lots of driving hours later, I was back in Florida, to turn around 36 hours later to get on a plane to New York (technically New Jersey, I flew into Newark Airport).
I did not expect to react the way that I did.
It was incredible. I spent most of a day walking around Manhattan, several hours of that just hanging out in Central Park, then spending a few hours in Brooklyn (where my AirBnB was located). It probably sounds dumb, but I get it. I understand why someone would want to move there, why so many aspiring performing artists set their goal and risk much to try and make it work. The next day I met up with friends to go to the Met. I love museums, I could have spent an entire day in there and still not have taken in everything. That night I saw my first Broadway show- Waitress- and it was everything I thought it would be. My only real complaint was the saccharine ending where everything got tied up in a neat little bow. To be fair, apparently that's how the movie ends too, so at least they didn't just tack it on unnecessarily, but still. There was such realness near the end of what was surprisingly comedic romp that I thought perhaps there would be a completely relatable end.
That night, and the next morning, I had a realization that came in the form of (what else) a song. "Moment in the Woods." I guess Moment in New York for me. The realization that, yes, there are lots of things I could pursue, there are lots of opportunities, and realistically, I could up and change things for myself without too much trouble.
But I know better.
I've been in the pilot's seat for a little too long, and using the auto-pilot way too much.
It's time to take back second-in-command, and let the Holy Spirit lead.
There are lots more things to write about. Callings, and plans, and living in the nebulous between present, past, and future. . . and I may have a chance to write more later this week. But after a month or so of traveling, I can say one thing for sure-
I'm back.
But... I'll get to that. Let me tell the stories chronologically, and hopefully concisely, because this will probably be a little longer than I would like.
SO: Right before I went to Belgium, I bought a new car. I wasn't planning to, it had been at the back of my brain, but I went in for an oil change with yet another phone message from the dealership asking if I was interested in selling my car and getting a new one? Two years of that, at least, and after the car fire, it sounded good. But I owe money on the car! How does that work? So I went in and said "if you can give me a car with no down payment and no change in my car payment, then I'll gladly take a new car."
And they did.
The trade in value they assessed was $800 less than what I owed, and there was some promotion where the dealership had cash to put towards new cars, and so I walked out with a 2019 Kia Sorento. I also walked out with a pleasurable experience with the sales associate, who, at the end of our time together (which was probably all of 45 minutes, since I didn't need some crazy test drive and knew I wanted the same model car), said something to the effect of it's so nice to be around a pleasant person. So many people come in here with horrible attitudes and leave angry even when they get a new car, so thank you. I couldn't help but think that, even in all the quagmire of inner wrestling, the hope of Christ still shines.
So a few days later I went to Belgium. Well, I went and spent time with family between getting the car and flying out, but if I write about every single thing that happened, I might as well wait for NaNoWriMo.
Belgium was amazing. My second time at performing internationally, which sounds ridiculous (like. . . who am I??), but both recitals for ClarinetFest went quite well. We were lucky for the solo recital that we were in the conservatory, in a room built for performing, and that actually had air conditioning (as they were in a heat wave, so it was like. . . in the high 70s, so beautiful outside and slightly uncomfortable inside, depending on windows/cross-breeze). The landscape was beautiful, we were right on the NW corner of the country, so sunrise was on the right of the pier at 5:30 AM and sunset was to the left of the pier at 10:30 PM. The food, the environment, the weather, everything was great. And Ostend is not a particularly touristy place, so we actually enjoyed having reasonable prices and not super busy streets. Bruges was beautiful, and Brussels was also pretty but very touristy. It would not have been impossible to go visit a bunch of places, but I really enjoyed staying in town and exploring what was there. Maybe the small town mentality still in me. I actually found a church service in English, which was nice. The one thing I still dream about from the whole experience is the chocolate covered kumquats I found in one of the chocolate shops- they were probably the most unique and tastiest experience I had over the course of my time there.
Came back to Florida for a couple weeks, and then I drove up to Michigan to hang out with family. My nephew is ridiculously big and ridiculously smart (no bias). It was nice to have some midwest summer lazy days, away from the heat, away from the hustle and bustle. I also drove over to Oshawa for the weekend. Kyle and I pretty much tied at mini golf, saved three dinosaurs at Jurassic Park, and just had a good time catching up over poutine (it's so good, you guys). I got to walk around a city that, over a year ago, I wouldn't have given a thought, and I got to worship with people I find myself thinking of multiple times each month. It was good to hear Jared preach, and to catch up with him and Jen.
Lots of driving hours later, I was back in Florida, to turn around 36 hours later to get on a plane to New York (technically New Jersey, I flew into Newark Airport).
I did not expect to react the way that I did.
It was incredible. I spent most of a day walking around Manhattan, several hours of that just hanging out in Central Park, then spending a few hours in Brooklyn (where my AirBnB was located). It probably sounds dumb, but I get it. I understand why someone would want to move there, why so many aspiring performing artists set their goal and risk much to try and make it work. The next day I met up with friends to go to the Met. I love museums, I could have spent an entire day in there and still not have taken in everything. That night I saw my first Broadway show- Waitress- and it was everything I thought it would be. My only real complaint was the saccharine ending where everything got tied up in a neat little bow. To be fair, apparently that's how the movie ends too, so at least they didn't just tack it on unnecessarily, but still. There was such realness near the end of what was surprisingly comedic romp that I thought perhaps there would be a completely relatable end.
That night, and the next morning, I had a realization that came in the form of (what else) a song. "Moment in the Woods." I guess Moment in New York for me. The realization that, yes, there are lots of things I could pursue, there are lots of opportunities, and realistically, I could up and change things for myself without too much trouble.
But I know better.
I've been in the pilot's seat for a little too long, and using the auto-pilot way too much.
It's time to take back second-in-command, and let the Holy Spirit lead.
There are lots more things to write about. Callings, and plans, and living in the nebulous between present, past, and future. . . and I may have a chance to write more later this week. But after a month or so of traveling, I can say one thing for sure-
I'm back.
6/28/2018
Psalm 77
I don't think it accidental that this Psalm popped up for me this morning. In many ways, the truth in this Psalm is what I've been trying to convince my heart of, screaming at myself in some ways. . . I had done a sermon on it a little over a year ago, and so I think it appropriate to share today, if only for myself. I've cleaned up some parts of it (in the sense of trying to make complete thoughts- it was just my notes as I worked my way through the passage in order to present it). I'm also almost done with my way through The Message paraphrase, which for this Psalm was particularly striking.
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Why do we take time to pause and reflect? To take a break. To evaluate what we have accomplished. To celebrate our victories. To learn from our mistakes. To check our future direction. The Bible is full of times where people took times to remember- the Israelites leaving memorial altars as they journeyed from Egypt and stones after crossing the Jordan, even today we have the concept of sharing in the Lord’s supper to remember Jesus last days and his ultimate sacrifice for us, the Psalms consistently have these remembering journeys. It is through remembering God’s work in our lives that we can find encouragement and peace in whatever situation we are facing.
1) Remembering can be painful.
Psalm 77: 1-3- I cried out to God for help; I cried out to God to hear me. When I was in distress, I sought the Lord; at night I stretched out untiring hands, and I would not be comforted. I remembered you, God, and I groaned; I meditated, and my spirit grew faint.
My soul REFUSED to be comforted. Same word in Genesis 37 (Jacob losing Joseph) and Job 6 (why eat things that make me ill)
4-9 You kept my eyes from closing; I was too troubled to speak. I thought about the former days, the years of long ago; I remembered my songs in the night. My heart meditated and my spirit asked: “Will the Lord reject forever? Will he never show his favor again? Has his unfailing love vanished forever? Has his promise failed for all time? Has God forgotten to be merciful? Has he in anger withheld his compassion?”
(every person can relate to at least one of these questions)
(every person can relate to at least one of these questions)
my spirit asked= a diligent search (looking for the idol in the camp, looking for the silver cup in Benjamin’s bag)
Is His promise clean gone? Has he shut up his tender mercies?
I: Many people keep objects as a memorial of someone. Wedding ring
A: We must not be afraid to engage in remembering even though it may force us to deal with difficult things. It is an important part of the process as we seek to put our trust fully in God in all things.
2) Remembering requires focused thinking.
10-12 Then I thought, “To this I will appeal: the years when the Most High stretched out his right hand. I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago. I will consider all your works and meditate on all your mighty deeds.”
10-12 Then I thought, “To this I will appeal: the years when the Most High stretched out his right hand. I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago. I will consider all your works and meditate on all your mighty deeds.”
the root of that word meditate- to moan, growl, utter, speak, muse.
I: We often think of meditating as those people on a mountain, sitting with their legs crossed and humming. What we miss in this illustration is what their mind is doing- the concept behind meditation is to clear one’s head, often times thought of in a way to escape from the world. For the Christian, there is an important element in that we are not trying to clear our head and check out but instead clear out the distraction and fill it instead with God’s word. What is the Bible but a collection of God’s miracles and works?
A: How we meditate- Phil 4:4-7 Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.
The outcome of this "recipe"?
The outcome of this "recipe"?
7 And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
3) Remembering changes our perspective.
E: 13-15 Your ways, God, are holy. What god is as great as our God? You are the God who performs miracles; you display your power among the peoples. With your mighty arm you redeemed your people, the descendants of Jacob and Joseph.
Holy- in the sanctuary.
I: There’s a point in every hero story where the protagonist has a realization of what they need to do. Frodo has his resolve in taking the ring to Mordor, Spiderman decides to hide his identity to protect his family, his conversations with Uncle Ben.
This moment is not necessarily the most difficult part though there is difficult, but it is very important, as it defines the rest of the journey. And this does not come in the heat of a moment but after much thinking.
A: “If you always do what you’ve always done, you’ll always get what you’ve always got.” Sometimes we need to change our way of thinking so that God can affect change in our lives.
4) Remembering should bring us to trust in God’s sovereignty.
16-20 The waters saw you, God, the waters saw you and writhed; the very depths were convulsed. The clouds poured down water, the heavens resounded with thunder; your arrows flashed back and forth. Your thunder was heard in the whirlwind; your lightning lit up the world; the earth trembled and quaked. Your path led through the sea, your way through the mighty waters, though your footprints were not seen. You led your people like a flock by the hand of Moses and Aaron.
I: Parting the waters refers not only to the Red Sea but also to the beginning of time
A: Each memorial has a purpose. We must always look to God as we attempt to make sense of life.
Ephesians 1:3-14
Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ. For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love he predestined us for adoption to sonship through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will— to the praise of his glorious grace, which he has freely given us in the One he loves. In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace that he lavished on us. With all wisdom and understanding, he made known to us the mystery of his will according to his good pleasure, which he purposed in Christ, to be put into effect when the times reach their fulfillment—to bring unity to all things in heaven and on earth under Christ. In him we were also chosen, having been predestined according to the plan of him who works out everything in conformity with the purpose of his will, in order that we, who were the first to put our hope in Christ, might be for the praise of his glory. And you also were included in Christ when you heard the message of truth, the gospel of your salvation. When you believed, you were marked in him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit, who is a deposit guaranteeing our inheritance until the redemption of those who are God’s possession—to the praise of his glory.
Conclusion: Remembering what God has done fuels much of what we do as the church. It is the reason we gather together each Sunday. When we struggle, we need that reminder that God is with us, he hears us, he cares. When hear of the stories of God’s work in others’ lives, we are reminded of His sovereignty and his grace. We get to spend the entirety of our lives trying to wrap our heads around everything God is and does. . . and remembering God’s work helps us to continually process this.
"The joy and praise that saturate the Psalms come not from an absence of problems, but from a deep conviction that a great God can overcome them."
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I don't remember exactly where that last quote comes from. It might be from my study Bible. It's been in my e-mail forever, but without a source. Anyway. . . a different kind of entry. But at the very least, it's a memorial stone for me to return to on this journey.
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I don't remember exactly where that last quote comes from. It might be from my study Bible. It's been in my e-mail forever, but without a source. Anyway. . . a different kind of entry. But at the very least, it's a memorial stone for me to return to on this journey.
6/20/2018
All of the nagging question
Next week I’m going to turn 30. And I’m trying to figure out why it’s bothering me so. It’s not like. . . all consuming, the world is ending, I’m past my prime, etc. It’s more just like a nagging, and continues to nag the closer that I get to it. It’s just a number. But I know that a lot of my problem lies in just knowing that I did not imagine my life would be this at 30.
I’ve never been one to think concretely in things like five or ten year plans. I think the best example of that is the fact that I only auditioned for one music school for undergrad and basically had no back-up plan if I hadn’t made it in. Really I think it’s one question that haunts me. It was one thing that for whatever reason I made into a concrete “thing” and now it’s sticking out of the grief rock and into my gut.
“What if I’m a widower before I’m 30?”
It’s been echoing louder and louder. . . and I am not sure why I put that number on it. It could have easily been 40. Or 50. Or 72 1/2. Why put some kind of specific end gate? I don’t know. What are you supposed to think when your fiancée gets a diagnosis of the return a 5 year dormant cancer that suddenly presents in a rare and odd way?
It was a conversation we had. . . a conversation that never really completed, because how can that conversation get completed? It’s a dialogue that only one person can really end up carrying out in the end. I know that she gave some specific tasks to specific people, and I know that some of those have been completed. But to go back to the question, I think that in my mind, even in my darkest dreams, I don’t think I really believed that she would die. Not so soon anyway. Not before our first anniversary. By the time I would be 30, we’d have had a few years together. Celebrated some milestones. Continued to fight the invisible assassin.
Now I’m three and a half years into a new normal that doesn’t look like anything I would have even guessed. And certainly, it is not bad. There is a lot of good things, a lot of amazing people, and continually I am in awe of God’s perfect plan many of the details. But that doesn’t mean I don’t grieve the life that didn’t happen.
I don’t really have a point, except to say that I miss my wife.
I’ve never been one to think concretely in things like five or ten year plans. I think the best example of that is the fact that I only auditioned for one music school for undergrad and basically had no back-up plan if I hadn’t made it in. Really I think it’s one question that haunts me. It was one thing that for whatever reason I made into a concrete “thing” and now it’s sticking out of the grief rock and into my gut.
“What if I’m a widower before I’m 30?”
It’s been echoing louder and louder. . . and I am not sure why I put that number on it. It could have easily been 40. Or 50. Or 72 1/2. Why put some kind of specific end gate? I don’t know. What are you supposed to think when your fiancée gets a diagnosis of the return a 5 year dormant cancer that suddenly presents in a rare and odd way?
It was a conversation we had. . . a conversation that never really completed, because how can that conversation get completed? It’s a dialogue that only one person can really end up carrying out in the end. I know that she gave some specific tasks to specific people, and I know that some of those have been completed. But to go back to the question, I think that in my mind, even in my darkest dreams, I don’t think I really believed that she would die. Not so soon anyway. Not before our first anniversary. By the time I would be 30, we’d have had a few years together. Celebrated some milestones. Continued to fight the invisible assassin.
Now I’m three and a half years into a new normal that doesn’t look like anything I would have even guessed. And certainly, it is not bad. There is a lot of good things, a lot of amazing people, and continually I am in awe of God’s perfect plan many of the details. But that doesn’t mean I don’t grieve the life that didn’t happen.
I don’t really have a point, except to say that I miss my wife.
5/29/2018
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.
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.
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