It's done, It's done!

My Book is finally done.  I have a release date of January 17th in the mean time you can find my book here. Check it out! http://www.tatepublishing.com/bookstore/book.php?w=978-1-61346-733-6. It has been a long process but I am pleased with the result.

Because of my book, I have been doing more thinking and research on grief.  I am convinced that unprocessed grief is epidemic in our culture.  Too much much moves too fast and who has time for losses? Change good or bad is a loss of what we know. Right now if you start college courses to learn a trade related to computers the knowledge you learn your first year will be obsolete by the time you graduate.  That is just too dang fast!

But I keep looking back at the wisdom of Jesus who said, "Blessed are those who mourn for they shall be comforted" (Matthew 5:4) That isn't Blessed are those who have losses but those who grieve their losses, those who take the time to process. 

I can't find the time to sit here and think some days and changes are coming WAY too fast. But I wonder about my quality of life when I don't take that time. I wonder how much anxiety and unprocessed grief are linked together. 

Rapid fire life makes me crazy! I'm anxious and scared when things are unfamiliar. But comfort relieves anxiety doesn't it?  Anxiety is easy for me. I can get wrapped around the axle sometimes.  But I truey am comforted when I take the time to process and pray.

it's almost finished!

I got the final layout for my book yesterday. It is almost finished. Now comes the scary part, letting someone see it and seeing if they will buy it. I'm really a wall flower in disguise. I don't like being"out there"and public. God give me strength!

Processing for life

Grieving surely must be a daily process and not only for someone who has lost a loved one. I am sitting here with the breeze outside mimicking the time passing. I have a friend whose son just left today. He walked across the threshold for the last time as a "member" of that household. He is off to make his own.

My friend's grief mingled with happiness strikes a cord in my heart as my last child set off with his new bride this past winter. That was a great day... and a sad one. Oh I am happy with his choice in every way. But the halls of my home are so quiet. I loved having children. They are such a blessing from the LORD. But it is a big process finding out who you are without them when the last one flies the coop.

I have many things to do. My husband and I are still very much enjoying each other. I know how that I am blessed to be able to say that. But I am at a quandary. What's next?

I think for today, next is grieving. Not because I am "sad" but because life has changed. And I must first grieve the change before I can find me in the ashes of what was.

The rampage of grief

As I am preparing to go "out there" with this book which becomes a reality in another month or two. I keep revisiting grief. What is it really? I think that grief is an expression of a loss of connection. We grieve when we feel the ripping apart of an attachment. I was going to say the greater the attachment the deeper the grief. But I'm not sure that is true. If we have a secure attachment then I'm not sure we lose that attachment even in death.

My husband has convinced me of a great truth. I am lovable. There is someone who delights in me. I can see that delight and understand that God can too. It has build in me a security that can not be lost through death. That secure attachment has made the thought of losing him less frightening. Losing him can't change the truth he has taught me. I am lovable.

I am very concerned overall about the damage being done to our children and by that our society because of lack of connection and attachment. Fewer and fewer children know that they are lovable. It takes time to impart that truth and we spend precious little of it with our children. Sometimes we spend lots of time but it's not time connecting. Watching ballet, soccer , or little league practice doesn't count. Yelling from the bleachers, "You can do it!" isn't the same as being eye to eye with your child where he can see your eyes mist up as you talk of his faults as well as his potential. I'm not talking of being critical of your children, I'm talking about being honest. Sometimes they can't do it, sometimes they don't even want to... and you won't know that unless you listen... really listen.

It is imperative for children to bond to another human being. Healthy attachment is vital for life, empathy and order. If a child isn't able to attach, he will not feel the pain he causes others. He will not care. Lack of attachment makes mass murders possible. There is no grief at all where there is no connection.

I think that the most difficult process of grief is in a fragile attachment. Where I am connected to someone that hasn't convinced me they love me. That's what makes divorce so incredibly painful. It breaks a connection without the buoy of confidence in being loved. Any form of betrayal breaks that confidence and perhaps with it our connection with the human race. I know that there are degrees of broken connection but I want to scream from the mountain tops. Wake up! Look at what we are doing to ourselves and to our children. In this context the violence we are seeing in ever increasing ugliness makes sense... it is a wake up call if we will heed it.

Illustration department

After more than a month of waiting, I was assigned to an illustrator for my book yesterday. This is by far the most vulnerable stage for me. I have a picture in my head of how "Granny Grace" looks. Who can climb inside your head and get the same picture? I know from experience that Jesus can and that He can climb inside another's head who is asking for that vision as well. Please join with me in prayer that the illustrations that God has in mind for this book are the ones that actually get in the book.

By the way, the book title has changed. It used to be Wings of Angels like the name of this blog but now it is "Granny Grace". Keep an eye out for it. It will be on book store shelves before Christmas (Lord willing)

Slowing Down

I have more than one friend that is house bound right now. Health and circumstance has left them inside, watching the seasons pass outside their window. I believe it is a holy time, a time of waiting. I'm thinking of Isaiah 40:31,

"But those who wait on the LORD
Shall renew their strength;
They shall mount up with wings like eagles,
They shall run and not be weary,
They shall walk and not faint."

I found in my own time where I watched the seasons pass outside my window that my own "waiting on the LORD" implied that I have gotten ahead of Him... again. When I was knocked flat and couldn't go anymore, God was right there. When I slowed down, it was like I entered into the place of His presence. It was awesome! I experienced the truth of Psalm 46:10 "Be still and know that I am God." Being still is a lost art practiced solely by those who watch the seasons pass outside their window. Illness and infirmity are a holy opportunity to really know Him.

Don't get me wrong, chronic illness is a trial, a war against a foe that sometimes takes you and sometimes lets you scramble back into the rat race. But in the midst of the battle may we never forget that our foe has no winning option. Either outcome is our victory. Either we live to fight another day... or we go home victorious to finally rest from the battle.

Wonder

I wonder where my wonder went. It sort of got lost in my busyness, or maybe it's just tired. I have 14 new baby chicks and one very overwhelmed mama hen who is trying to raise them all. It's a good thing hens don't nurse! They are so soft and cute and funny. But more than that they are wonder-full. The woods, the little babbling brook, they are wonderful. There is so much to see. There is so much to hear. There is so much wonder in wonderful things. Please help me to open my eyes and look.

Redeeming a Child

Right in the middle of my children's growing up years. I became very ill. Among other things I suffered from brain trauma. I lost the ability to walk, drive a car or even think clearly. There was a time when I couldn't even recognize my children much less minister to their needs. For more than 6 months I was not able to be "the parent" for them. Their lives were permanently altered.

In those 6 months I made mistakes, big mistakes, like turning on the gas cook stove but forgetting to light it. It became a challenge to do the simplest things. In the process my children gave up their childhood and offered care for me. I scrambled to regain what I had lost and God miraculously intervened but for my children something was lost forever. They lost that carefree sense that life is safe and your parents are a rock that you can always rely on. Each of my children managed that loss differently but they all suffered loss.

My children's story may be unique in content but not in result. When a child suffers they too come to realize their own mortality. Then they have a choice to either grow wise or simply to become "older". In either case the carefree child is lost in the process. But I believe there is a pathway back to their childhood. There is a way for them to put down the worries they picked up and run free again. It's through grieving.

It's hard to bear the grief of a child. It is so real and full of an agony many of us have long ago refused to feel. Many adults are afraid of a child's grief. We are tempted to say, "It's ok, don't cry." But it's not ok and crying is the best medicine for a grieving soul. Jesus says, "Blessed are those who mourn for they will be comforted." And it is true those who mourn will heal and know comfort, a comfort much greater than two parents can give.

So as a parent how can we help? I have a very simple but complicated answer, model grieving. If you want your children to grieve well, grieve. It's like those oxygen masks on airplanes. We pass out if we don't have enough oxygen. That is why they say, "First secure you own mask before assisting others." You, as the adult must be willing to swim in the sea of sorrow in order to be of any good. It is the pathway to your own healing and it is the biggest gift you can give your children.

My children lost their mother....at least for a time, but at the same time I lost my children too. I lost my chance to mother them. I lost that carefree look in their eyes, I lost precious time with them and for small children 6 months is filled with many changes.

To tell you the truth, I didn't grieve my losses well. I got tough instead. I wanted to be strong for my children but they needed me to be soft.

Processing and time

It takes time to process the stuff that happens in my life and who has the time? Sometimes I think feelings get in the way of "progress". But what are feeling for? Why do we have emotions? Are they just in the way? Or is there a profound need for them?

I am a very passionate person. I feel everything deeply. It is exhausting sometimes. But if we are becoming like Jesus does that include the fact that He was full of passion? Did I start out a passionate person or am I becoming passionate as I become like Jesus? Jesus wept (John 11:35). He flipped over tables and drove people out of the temple with a whip (John 2:15) Jesus was moved with compassion (Matthew 9:36). What is the difference between passion and love? Not sexual passion or love but Agape love the sacrificial love, and passion the deep inner groanings of the spirit?

I have long ago stopped fighting my feelings. I once was so wounded that I felt nothing for anyone. I had no compassion. That's a horrible place to be. I'm not saying that I let my feelings run my life. What is the difference between feelings and passions? Have we let evil passions frighten us away from Godly passions? Are we supposed to deaden our passions or enliven them?

Many questions in my heart today. Do you have any thoughts?

His Wings and Flighty Chickens

Psalms 57:1 says, "Be merciful to me, O God, be merciful to me!For my soul trusts in You; And in the shadow of Your wings I will make my refuge, Until these calamities have passed by."

I get a picture in my head when I read this passage. I think of my chickens. Chickens are flighty little creatures that run away from most everything unless they are raising chicks. Then, look out, mama hens are vicious! They will tear into anything that threatens their chicks. When the chicks are alarmed mama hen will lift her wings ever so slightly, fluff out to a much bigger appearance and call her chicks to her. Chicks scurry from all sides and scramble under wing for comfort and safety.

Sometimes there is so much clamor that I get lost. Sometimes the chaos is too much for me. Those are often the days I don't cry out to the LORD or seek His face. Why is that? Why, when I am most desperate for comfort, do I shy away? (Listening) Well, the obvious reason is trust. When my world is gets shaken, I get frightened. In the flurry, I forget that God is on my side. I lose trust in everything. Some chicks are like that. They get so frightened and disoriented that they just sort of cry and run in a million directions. Did you know that mama hens raise their voices? When their chicks are flustered they make a ruckus of cackling noises. Perhaps they are trying to be heard above the panic. Hmmm Does God do the same? (Listening)

I don't hear much but I feel almost a hunger to "make my refuge " in the shadow of His wings. As I think about it, I am tired of running around frightened and disoriented. I'm tired of being confused and confounded. I long for the rest that He offers. Good grief, why does it take me so long to get here?

Bouys and Adorable Muddy Children

There are a few people in my life that have been incredibly faithful. These are people that I truly believe care about me. I matter to them, not just for what I can do for them but because they like me. That is amazing to me. I know it is rare. They are buoys for me. They keep me afloat when I am drowning but they also pull back when I am out of order. I am safe because they will tell me the truth, believe the best, confront the destructive, and at the same time refrain from judgment.

Buoys are markers in the harbor that warn you of rocks and dangerous obstacles that lurk underneath the water's surface. Buoys are very important especially when we navigate grief and pain. But buoys are rare. I'm thinking of the book by Joyce Landorf Healtherly "Balcony people". Or the song, "Rainy Day People" by Gordan Lightfoot. The tough part is you have to be one first. You can not "make" someone be a buoy for you.

We are so full of defenses. I'm thinking of the many times I have shot my own horse so to speak. I have been like a wounded cat scratching the daylights out of anyone that came near to help. I have also been violated by those who want to fix me instead of delight in me just the way I am. I see God sometimes pulling me out of the mud pit I am floundering in and just chuckling to Himself. He thinks I look cute all muddied up, even though He has great compassion for my pain. He delights in me no matter my circumstance. I can see it partly because I have done the same for my own sons. Face it, muddy children are just flat out adorable!

As we come near to Christ, we become like Him. We see the adorable in people and become buoys at the same time that we need them.

Garden pests

Something is after my beet greens with a vengeance! For now it is an unseen enemy but it must be some furry creature because the stalks are chewed down to almost nothing. What do you do when the bunnies attack in the night? It's hard to fight an unseen enemy. They take ground when your not on guard. Satan is like that, just nibbling away at the good stuff when your not looking. God what about that? (listening) Wow, the picture I have is of taking refuge when I am too weary to be watchful. Like Psalms 91:4, "He shall cover you with His feathers, And under His wings you shall take refuge; His truth shall be your shield and buckler." Interesting I didn't know the rest of that verse where it says "His truth shall be your shield." That for me is so true. The thing that keeps the enemy from getting a foothold in me is knowing the truth.

Shock

Change is a constant. There is no stopping it. All change causes grief and grief takes time. The thing is, change is becoming so rapid there isn't time to grieve one change before the next one hits. There are days for me when I am more than exhausted. The bombardment is too much for me. Sometimes I get lost in the confusion. I can't think in a line. I start to do something and get distracted only to get distracted again. I drown in a swirl of too much to think about.

I heard someone else describe the same struggle and wondered if I am in shock. Are we all in shock? Is the level of grieve related to change so high now that we can't cope? Many people my age are using drugs to cope.

There was a book written years ago called "Future Shock". It warned of the effects of rapid change. The author believed there was a point at which the speed of change would overtake our ability to cope. I'm amazed at how accurate that book was. The question is what can we do? (listening) Hmmm what I hear is "rest". That makes a lot of sense. The more our lives are changing the less we get rest. Rest almost feels wrong. God what about that? The sense I have is that satan makes life feels like death and death like life. Rest is the path to life so in the world it feels wrong. Hmmm, well, I'm off to rest and see if it clears out the cobwebs.

Watching the seasons pass

I am going to visit a friend today. She is wheelchair bound and grieving her loss of mobility. I love her and miss being able to take her out for tea. I was in a similar place once, sitting at the window and watching the seasons pass. Winter, Spring Summer... they all slipped by outside my window while I watched. It was a time when my world shrank to the size of my house, sometimes my bedroom. But as my world shrank, my God grew.

George MacDonald brings a period of illness into many of his stories. He connects illness with the emotional and spiritual condition of a person. I agree. Though I'm not sure if illness is caused by our spiritual condition or if it is an opportunity for a cure. I know this, I will never be the same as I was before my illness. I connected with God. I learned that being still is a requirement if I am to know Him (Psalms 46:10) His grace became real to me. I learned that Romans 8:1 is real. "There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus" I was set free from the law of sin and death (Romans 8:2). Before I lost my ability to be busy, these were all just words to me, I could not make them mine. There is so much to be learned by being still.

Lonliness

I like space. I need time to be alone and gather my thoughts. I don't know how to survive without quiet time. But there are days when loneliness creeps into my quiet. Today my family is all gone. Between lives of their own and business trips, it is quiet in the house... I don't have any real reason to get up, make breakfast or get things going.

My husband and I found out years ago that we had a choice either to become hardened when we were apart from each other or to stay soft and feel lonely. We chose to miss each other and feel the pain of the separation. That is sometimes a difficult choice. Today, I miss a house full of children and the sound of laughter... even the need to put food on the table. I miss the unity and identity of "family".

But loneliness is also a gift. I find myself reaching up to the LORD like I did when I first knew Him. He was then my only source of life. It is good to know that He still is.

Mist

It is the end of June in the North. The weather here has been cooler than what I would consider normal. It is cloudy and cool today and I am wondering what happened to summer. It has vanished into the mist. Mist is a wonderful gift to me. It's almost like snow. I like snow because it covers up everything that is cluttered looking and makes the whole world look settled and clean. Mist mutes and softens your view, it hovers around the trees and blurs colors. Today is one of those days. I want to kind of wrap myself up in the mist and see if it will mute the chaos and noise. Both inside and out

Car Trouble, Deadlines and Editing

I am sitting in at a car shop in the middle of nowhere. It's ok, I really need the down time. It is a chance to catch up on emails etc. In the process I found one from my editor. I have until Friday to review my manuscript and sign my acceptance papers so we can move to the next phase of production. Life often gets in the way of agendas. I'm trying to imagine myself going up the the repair shop window and asking if they could make some copies for me and send a fax... I'm not sure I have the nerve. And even if I did, I doubt there is a policy that allows for such things. Interruptions really test whether you actually have patience or are pretending to have patience. Today,I'm not so sure.

Taking the time

It's hard to find the time to think sometimes. Thinking takes time and doesn't at all look productive. Quiet time, reading scripture, resting, they are not the popular thing to do. I read a book by Tim Hansel once called "When I relax I feel guilty". That's a sad concept! What makes relaxing feel wrong? What makes being quiet so hard? In 1 Kings chapter 19 Elijah is standing on the mountain waiting to hear from the LORD. There is a wind, fire and an earthquake but the LORD in not there-- then he hears a "still small voice" and Elijah readies himself to listen. He recognizes the still small voice as the LORD. It is hard to hear that still small voice in the clamor. Perhaps that is why Elijah is sent to the mountains in the first place?

Light at the end of the tunnel

I wonder what it means in Hebrews 12:2 when it says “For the joy that is set before Him, He over came the cross.” It wonder if we can have the same view and whether that view would give us the power to overcome.

I often think of the story of Stephen being stoned to death. He was so caught up in the joy of heaven that I question whether he felt the blows at all. That picture gives me courage. Perhaps if my time comes to sacrifice my life for Christ, I will receive the same miraculous assistance.

It is my light at the end of the tunnel. No matter what assails me, there is an end and that end is good. No matter how dark it is in this tunnel there is a light at the end. The greatest light, hope and joy!

It's a Georgeous day!

The sun is shining, it's not too hot, not too cold--a perfect day. I wonder how many perfect days I have just missed. Sometimes I get so busy that I don't stop to notice what kind of sky God painted that day. Every sunrise is different. Every sunset is unique. Every wisp of cloud takes a shape that has never been before. That is amazing!

I think I will go to the park today and look up for a while. God, wake me up to your art. Give me eyes to see beyond just the beauty of the work. Help me look deeply into the heart of the artist.

Pain vrs Numb

Pain is confusing I know. In my country (USA), pain is not considered normal. It is a thing to eliminate at all cost. I do not agree. Pain is a purifier and a motivator. It changes you, humbles you, quiets you. Severe pain shrinks your world into perhaps just the room you are in or less.

I have lived through excruciating pain both physical and emotional. It doesn't frighten me like it used to. I choose pain over numb. Numb feels much more frightening to me now. Numb is what you feel when you are dying. Pain says you are alive. Pain always has a purpose but in the midst of it you have only two choices, to turn into your self, or turn towards the LORD.

Turning towards the LORD can mean screaming at Him. I have spent many a night shouting out my anger, disillusionment and fear. God listened, sometimes very quietly, but I was never chastised for my outbursts. I had more of a sense God wanted me to let it all out. Many times after my emotions were spent He drew near and offered comfort.

Quiet vrs Clamor

I live in a city. It's not a big city as cities go but my biggest complaint is the noise. Cars whizzing by so that a walk in the park is not peaceful. Peace and quiet used to go together. You know, "I am going to find some peace and quiet". Today I am longing for peace and quiet. I don't mind the kind of noise God makes. Like the babble of a river flowing by or the rustle of leaves blowing in the wind. Have you ever wondered why the noise we make is so irritating while the noise God makes is so soothing? I think it is the difference between music and clamor. Music has an underlying beat and message. Clamor is random noise. I wonder, is rustle of leaves, the crashing sounds of a waterfall and the chirping of birds truly music?

It used to be considered the height of rudeness to make the slightest noise during a symphony. It was rude even to cause your chair to squeak. Any interruption of the intricate, interwoven poetry of sound broke the mood. It seems more than rude to drown out God's symphony with horns blaring, heavy equipment clanging, airplanes roaring overhead. I feel smothered with it at times

I wonder if there is more of a purpose to God's music than we know. Music is vital when treating someone with brain trauma. It knits the brain back together. I feel like I need my brain knit back together every day.

Next phase!

I got my edits finished late last night (which was the deadline date). Its hard to look at my own work objectively. I feel exposed and a bit raw. There are several stages to go before we get to the most frightening... marketing. I don't really write books to sell them. I write them to get a message across. I am very concerned about the grief we all carry. There is too much happening too fast and on a global scale. Our minds, our hearts can NOT keep up. I wrote a story about the loss of a loved one but the message I want to communicate is more about giving permission to feel grief and to take the time to walk it through. Life depends on feeling out sorrows. I remember the line in a song that asked, "Can there be joy where there has been no sorrow?"

They have done studies on pain and happiness. Did you know that the most miserable nations in the world and the ones that are the most painless? The people in modern nations that can use medications for pain and insurance to counter losses say most often that they are not happy where as people in nations with much suffering and deep poverty often say that they are. I believe there is a connection between suffering and true joy.

If we demand a painless existence, if we race through life without pausing to feel and grieve we will miss the comfort God offers to those who mourn.

Choosing life

I believe that life is more than existing. It is breathing in something beside just air. It's looking, really looking and choosing to see. Look at the sky! It is huge and ever changing, always beautiful and sometimes frightening. Look at the sea, it is never the same color twice is it? Look, listen, taste, touch. Live

The next phase

We are doing the conceptional editing of the book, "Wings of Angels". That means that the title might change any day. Hmmm, does that mean that I change the name of the blog too? Maybe not.

I have had many discussions about grief since I started this publishing process. It's becoming a passion of mine, not the pain of grief but I am trying to raise a flag of warning. We as a society are not allowing for grief in our lives. We are pushing through pain without giving it place. This will cost us in the end, more than we have to give.

I think that God is always a God of opposites. If you want to be first, then be last. If you want to be a leader, then serve. If you want to be happy, give away everything you cling to for happiness. If you want comfort... mourn. Happy people cry. That's the truth! Miserable people seldom do.

Jolly Angels

I am waiting for my editor to discuss the "Wings of Angels" book. I am trying to explain that the angels are supposed to look strong and Jolly. It's funny but I have never seen an angel depicted as jolly before. I wonder why not.

In the story I'm writing they are full of fun and joy and a little bit of mischief. Could anyone point me to an artist's rendition of a "jolly" angel?

Rest, passion and curiosity

As I contemplate the rapid onslaught of change I am spending more time thinking of God's mandate to rest. Rest.... who has time for it? I struggle with health issues. I need more rest than most. I have found though that life gets mundane quickly when I am tired. If I'm tired I don't have the energy to think! I used to question everything. Exhaustion kills curiosity and passion. What else is there anyway. What is life without passion and curiosity? Perhaps there is a different kind of dying going on.

Hmmm perhaps rest is more vital than we know?

change

Our world is changing faster and faster. Change, even good change causes grief. But when it changes so rapidly there isn't time to mourn that grief. I see unprocessed grief as a huge cause of anger and confusion in people today.

Did you know that over 82,000 people are homeless in Los Angeles County California alone? Did you know that 32 percent of those people have college degrees? Did you know that only 25 percent are mentally ill... which means the majority are "normal" people who haven't been able to "fit" with the program. 82,000 people, they would make a not-so-small city. 82,000 people that somehow aren't coping with the demands of change.

Sometimes I want to scream.... "Listen up!!!" We are missing what's happening. Too many people are expected to cope with too much. Burn out, nervous breakdowns, homelessness, depression and rage. They are all symptoms of unresolved grief... rapid change without resolve.

Taking time

Ecclesiastes 3:1 says, " To everything there is a season, A time for every purpose under heaven:" Makes you wonder. Sometimes I don't feel like I have time. Maybe it feels like time has me? There is this thing that keeps moving in front of me... like the rabbit that racing dogs chase. They can never catch it and all they are doing is running around in circles. grrr!

I guess the clincher is there is time... a time for every purpose under heaven. I find when I take the time early in the day to ask God what He has in mind for me that day, things change. My agenda gets tweeked. Appointments get canceled, lots of very unplanned things happen. Even so, my days are way less chaotic or full.

A passing

I have a friend whose mother is slipping away. I remember what it was like to lose my Father-in-law. Time was ticking by so slowly and yet there was no stopping life from being irreconcilably changed.

In this country we separate the process of dying from everyday life. Few are witnesses of the holy event. Few are the ones that bath and feed and nurture. But those that chose to witness have tasted a different dimension where all things carnal pass away and all things eternal blossom.

How are we different?

I know,
I know that Osama Bin Laden was brutal and ruthless. I know that we couldn't have done any different... "Those that live by the sword will die by the sword." But I don't think this is a time to rejoice.

I work with women who have been hurt. Sometimes I help them walk through a divorce. Many times they are divorcing a tyrant, a boar of a man who is brutal to them and divorce is their very best choice. But a divorce is never a thing to celebrate. It is a time to grieve. It is a loss of huge proportions even if it is the loss of a dream. A marriage has crumbled at the hands of the enemy and he is giddy with the holy thing he has destroyed. This is no place to celebrate. Many heave a sign of relief, like Jesus on the cross they can finally say, "It is finished" but that is all.

The shooting of Bin Laden is time to grieve. Time to grieve the loss of what could have been. One human being chose a life of brutality and hate. He could have used his influence for so much good! I grieve his choice. And the loss of what could have been if he had made a different one.

I know many are heaving a sigh of relief. Many have lost husbands, children, wives and friends at Osoma Bin Laden's hand. I get that. I grieved too at the twin tower catastrophe and at the cruel celebration of those who thought it a victory in the name of "god". I too hope the loss of their leader will scatter the members of this terrorist group. But I can still grieve the loss. One more death, one more bloody coo.

editing yikes!

I got an email from the editor of the book Wings of Angels. All the formalities seem very strange to me. This is a very small children's story and yet it is given the same respect as a full blown novel. Respect is a huge gift. Writing is hard. It's not putting words on a page that is hard for me but allowing someone else to read it... that's the hard part. I don't mind people who tell it like it is. Some will say, "geeze, your too real for me." I'm good with that but it's the hidden contempt that still hooks me. How can tell, really, what people are thinking? Why do I care? That's a good question. Why does hidden contempt have so much power? I have no real clue, but as this story I wrote morphs into a book on library shelves, I find myself in need of deeper connection with Jesus. He is my only hope of getting through the fear of what people will think of the author after they read it. I hope that they won't think of me at all... only life and death and Jesus most of all.

Pondering spring... and hope

I'm thinking about spring... and hope. Finally here in the north it is getting warmer. The sun is shining and the grass is greening up. It reminds me of Psalms 30:5b Weeping may endure for a night, But joy comes in the morning. In the darkness of loss, it doesn't feel like you will ever laugh, or sing again. Psalms 40:3 says "But He has put a new song in my mouth—Praise to our God;"But verse 2 says why: "He also brought me up out of a horrible pit, Out of the miry clay, And set my feet upon a rock, And established my steps. The pit is horrible... but there is an end, there is spring at the end of winter and hope at the end of loss.

Breathing

Sometimes it takes effort just to breathe. Sometimes I've had to take life one minute at a time. Sometimes when it is hard for me to breathe I tend to hole up inside, curtains drawn tightly around me. Darkness almost feels like a friend to me... sometimes.

But light is a healer on more than one level. The more I have learned about sunshine and vitamin D, the more I realize it's not just an emotional thing but a physiological one as well. We need light. It helps our immune system fight off disease. Light changes our outlook on life.

Interesting idea in the context of I John 1:5 "God is light; in him there is no darkness at all."

Unresolved Grief

Change is a constant. The world has never before been in such a rapid state of flux. Change brings grief... any change good or bad. I don't believe we have time anymore to grief one change before we are hit with another. That explains to me things like road rage and the rise in domestic violence. I know there are many factors, but knowing that change brings grief and that grief must be processed has not helped me find a better choice.

Where is there a place or a time to process the grief of change? I have had many changes in my life this year. Weddings, losses, births they all bring something new but they all come at the expense of what was. I'm good with that. Life grows and becomes but who has the time to process? And who can afford not to?

Labor, hope, more?

I am a fan of George MacDonald. I'm thinking of a book he wrote. Bethany house has an edited version called "The Marquee's Secret" It starts out with a woman preparing another for burial. There is so much respect, grace and honor given to the one lost. We have devalued ourselves to a point at which death is a tragic end of everything we were. Without the hope of more, death is so fearful and pointless. How can our lives mean anything without that hope?

But there is hope. This is the hard part--labor. This world is the part of our journey that squeezes our heads into points, bruises our hearts and bodies and leaves us gasping for an air we have never yet tasted.

I recently watched a movie directed by Clint Eastwood. It was called Hereafter. It's kind of a strange movie, there were no answers given but simply the question raised, "Is there more?" Go ahead, ask the question. Search the internet. Seek and find. I believe there is way more. Like here is the place of laboring and there is the place of life.

Taken away from evil

¹ The righteous perishes,
And no man takes it to heart;
Merciful men are taken away,
While no one considers
That the righteous is taken away from evil. (Isaiah 57:1)

This passage means so much to me. I can relate it to all the beautiful little lives lost in Abortion. I relate it to many who have died way before their time due to illness or accident. We live in a temporary place. We are all terminal here but death is a new beginning, not the end. I love Max Lucado's book "Tell me the secrets" It is a sweet children's story that talks about many issues in life. One of it's chapters has been made into it's own book "You are Speacial" but the last chapter is about death. He talks about it like a birth out from the womb in into a much bigger world. I agree

Timing

Ecclesiastes 3:1 says, "To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven." We fret about so many things. Like our worry can help us think of the right thing at the right moment so that we can prevent something from happening or make something happen. I have had trouble lately figuring out what to pray when things are in crisis. Sometimes I SO want God to intervene. But what I am always asking for is a path out of the pain. Sometimes pain is in season if that makes any sense.

Children: messengers of hope

This was written while waiting for a baby to be born.

Birth is such a holy moment and children are amazingly, sweet messengers of hope... oh, and they dredge out of the depths of us a love and devotion that makes us human once again. They drag us out of our stupor and bring light to every dark corner.

I remember the day we lost my Father-in-law. My father-in-law was a wonderful man. We were all devastated at his passing but at any point we got lost in our grief... my children would make some goofy comment or simply be adorable. Our grief was mixed with fun, hope. giggles and delightful antics.

I believe children feel more deeply than most adults. They squeal with joy, and howl in pain but the point is... they feel. In Many ways they are so much more alive. Aware of the loss, aware of the butterflies and the smell of the flowers. Somehow children are more fully connected to the living breathing work of art called the creation.

I think it is important to mix the two, death and birth. I believe both to be the beginning of something amazing. As such both are equally as holy and full of expectation and hope.

Learning from Children

Jesus said in Matthew 18:3“Assuredly, I say to you, unless you are converted and become as little children, you will by no means enter the kingdom of heaven." Don't you wonder what He meant? If you look at that verse in context, Jesus is answering a question his disciples asked, "Who then is greatest in the kingdom of heaven?"

It's the wrong question...

The disciples asked the wrong questions all the time. It's like asking an innocent by stander, "Did you use a knife or a gun to rob this store?" How can you answer a question like that?

I think Jesus replies to twisty questions with crafty answers. "What? Who's the greatest? In the asking of the question you have missed heaven completely!

On the flip side, we often approach children with the idea that we have much to teach them. But the opposite is true. Children have much to teach us. If we will take the time to watch, listen and learn. I think over all children are better grievers than we are. Unless of course we have already taught them it's not OK to cry.

Preventable grief

Some childhood grief is preventable. Ephesians 6:4 says, "Fathers, do not provoke your children, lest they become discouraged." I am saddened at how often this passage goes unheeded. I have known many adult survivors of childhood "provoking" of many forms. It leaves deep lacerations on tiny hearts.

I get from this passage that God does not want children to become discouraged. That says a lot to me about His response to Children. He put effort into making fathers safe for their children. He is putting the responsibility for their emotional well being squarely on the parent. It is important to listen, watch, and learn... really get to know children. They so want to be watched, heard, and known.

Children seen and heard

I remember being in the nursery once. There was a little girl there who obviously struggled with fine motor skills. She came in with a woman I didn't recognize but was clearly not her mother. As soon as the woman sat the girl down on the floor, she turned her attention to the other women in the room. She spent the entire hour talking about the disabilities of this sweet little girl on the floor. The girl looked as if she understood the conversation was about her and was shamed by it. No one seemed to notice.

I turned my attention to the girl who was delighted that someone was engaging her. We started to build a tower with blocks. I put down the first block and then another. Then I gave a block to her. She was smart, she knew exactly what to do but her poor little hands would hardly obey her. She slowly moved a quivering hand towards a block on the floor, wrapped her quaking, little fingers around it one finger at a time and then lifted it up into the air with lines of effort streaking her face. It took perhaps 5 minutes for her to maneuver the block above the two I had already placed and lower it onto the stack. Her whole body poured into the effort of holding still while she let the block go.

Then the room lit up with the beaming of her smile. She was so very proud of herself.

Noticing a child's tears

I’m going to explain up front that I am no expert on childhood grief, (well, if you understand grief as an outcome of loss then I have my experience and the experience of my children to draw from). I work with adult women who have been hurt. I wrote the book “Wings of Angels” because many women I work with have grief issues from their childhood that are yet unresolved.

Grief is complicated and difficult to navigate even as adults. Many times children are left floundering because their parents are lost in their own shock and grief.

If left to process grief on their own, children can come to believe many things that will negatively impact their lives. I remember being left uncomforted when my own grandfather died. Everyone around me was suffering as well, but my tears were a child’s tears. Somehow they didn’t seem to count.

I believe it is important as the adult to come to the aid of the child first. That is excruciatingly hard to do I know but perhaps in helping our children process we will find our own way out?

A New Book

Well, this is the beginning of a new conversation that I felt like needed it's own blog. I had a publisher pick up a small manuscript I wrote that will be out in book form sometime before December of this year. I am mostly still in shock. But it's a fun kind of shock... so far :)

It is a book about grief which is written on maybe a four year old level? I am not satisfied with much reading material that is out there for small children related to the death of a loved one. I thought I would give it a whack and see if improvement was possible. I also wanted to write a book that spoke to everyone and illustrated simply what grief might look like in it's various stages.

It's a book about, well, if you have gone to church for a while then you know there is always one elderly person there whose face is full of fun , who delights in the children, has treats in their pockets and are mobbed when ever they walk in the door. In this book her name is "Granny Grace". She has a very special relationship with one of the children of the congregation who is the only one that can see that there are angels that watch over Granny Grace. Granny knows they are there but has only felt the brush of their wings.

The story is about the love and relationship between them and the little girls journey to acceptance as she faces the loss of her dearly loved, deeply missed Granny Grace.