The clouds loom low today. Hovering over the ground in a dark embrace. I am in the midst of those clouds. I can smell them, see them, feel them all around me. It feels heavy and my steps are slow and weighted.
She is gone, my mother. Her body left here on this broken world, her soul and spirit embraced by the Savior of this world. I can no longer hear her voice or touch her face. I no longer have the hope of relationship I longed for.
There are so many questions sunanswered, so many words unspoken. There is suspense still hanging in the air, still wonder as to why. I feel like I just got into a good book and the best part of the book was ripped out, so I never know how the story ends. And so the weight of the clouds looms in uncertainty.
My mother was the joint in many of the relationships I had. Two seperate bones, with different purposes and functions, yet somehow she was able to join them together. I wonder what kind of pain will saturate the bones around my moms life... what kind of friction will occur without her seperating joint. I makes my heart hurt. I can not even put into words all the things that are consuming my mind. It is too much, too hard, too confusing, too painful.
I wonder what I am grieving more... the loss of my mom, as I know I wll see her again; or the loss of the hope I had? What am I grieving more... the loss of her flesh or the loss of memories that were not made and will not be made with me and my kids; Is it the reality that my step siblings will get the best of my dad and me, my sister and brother will once again be put off? Am I grieving because I feel like an orphan? No mother, my father has not spoken to me in 4 years and my step dad, although I know he loves me, has 3 biological children who beckon him to come without including Cari, Eric and I...
I am twisted and turned upside down... It seems I should be able to get back to life as normal... but it is not happening... I did not really talk to my mom the last year before she got sick, I always had the hope that our relationship would be restored and we would be close... that hope is gone. So many questions, so many holes....
I feel the clouds press down upon me... It is dark and gloomy and I am trying to break free. I am trying to establish a new legacy, a new way, a new family tradition... There is hope in that, but there will always be holes left in the place where my mom was supposed to be....
Perhaps the clouds will bring rain, to wash me clean from this grief and hurt. Perhaps the rain will wash away the stains of abandonment and anger and leave me clean and new. Perhaps the rain will leave the scent of new growth and new life.
I am hoping that is what the clouds bring...I am hoping I will be washed clean from hurt and anger and doubt and saddness.
Healing Rain fall on me...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=31D2g7t5Bjs
Showing posts with label mom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mom. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Believing
July 21, 2011
I am turning 37 in 2 days. I have seen a lot in those 37 years, hurt, loved, felt abandoned and rejected, loss…I have overcome a great deal to stand on solid ground and I have been wrong about a great many things. Mostly I have loved my Lord, who has walked me through this process of life. I am at a stage in my life, where life sucks. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be that person who looks at life with fogged glasses, yet in my attempts to clean those life glasses, I only seem to scratch them and mess up their alignment. So my eyes have a hard time beholding the beauty that is around me. Help me Lord Jesus, help me.
Yesterday was a hard day with my mom. In the past when I spoke those words, it was because she and I butted heads, or she did not meet my expectation, or I did not meet hers. In the past, I would tell my mom I was upset and she would tell me I was over exaggerating or that there was a miscommunication. Yesterday was a hard day with my mom, because for the first time in this process it seems she is dying. I have been told that she was for months, and I have not believed anyone. Not because I am in denial, but because I believe God is going to heal her. I believe my God can heal her. Becky shared a quote with me from John Wimber where he said that he would go to the hospital and pray for people and believe God would heal them, and they would die. But he kept on praying. And sometimes people would live, but no matter what the outcome, he was going to keep on praying. I am a warrior. I pray and fight and fast and pray some more. I have seen God move and defend and protect and heal and give. Recently, I have noticed that I am not a warrior; I am a broken, sad, grieving girl who feels like God forgot about me.
So I travel down my life road, wondering how I am going to make it. My mom’s body is deteriorating right before my eyes. Her face and eyes are yellow, her ankle and stomach are swollen. She moves slow and sleeps a lot. The hospice chaplain came to talk and pray with my mom. He was there about an hour and then left. When he left, my mom began to sob uncontrollably. I said, maybe he shouldn’t come anymore mom. She held me tight and said, “No, it is okay Teresa, he helped me today. He helped me to understand what is going on with me emotionally.” I took a deep breath to brace myself for what she was going to say next. “I am grieving,” she said and started to cry again. “I am grieving the loss of my family. I am going to leave them and I am grieving that. I don’t want to. I am not scared or angry with God, but I had this feeling I could not figure out, and it is grief. I am grieving the fact that I won’t be here for my family and my husband and my kids and grandkids.” I hugged her with a fierce embrace and a weight came upon me. I cried with her and felt exhausted. She asked me to come with her into her room and sit with her, and so I did.
About 5 minutes went by and she opened her dresser drawer. She handed me a pouch and asked me to open it. The pouch was pink satin and had a snap and zipper on it. I unzipped the pouch and pulled out a pearl necklace. It was beautiful. My mom took my hands and put the pearls in my palm. She said, “You are my pearl. You were like a piece of sand, rough and irritating at times, but God turned you into a beautiful pearl. Look at the luster and beauty that came from a little rough piece of sand. It is shining and smooth and beautiful, just like you. I want you to have them to wear or for Carah to wear when she gets married.” Tears welled up in my eyes… I want you to be there for Carah’s wedding I thought. I want you to be there. Grief weighed upon me at that moment. But there was more. Inside the pouch was a gold ring with a small diamond in it. It was the ring I bought for my mom for Christmas the first year I started working. I was 17 when I gave it to her. She said, “I want you to give this to Carah when she is 16, so she has something from me that came from you. I want it to be passed down so that she can remember me.” At this point, I was sobbing. I have only been an adult for 20 years. I had kids young so they could be around their grandparents and experience life with them. I expected my mom to live into her 80’s and even 90’s, giving me 30 or more years with her. I was expecting my mom to die when she had white hair and lots of wrinkles. That I can understand and process, this I cannot.
People tell me all the time, when I tell them that I believe God will heal my mom, “well what if He doesn’t?” I respond quickly with, “It is not my job to know if He is or is not. It is my job to believe, and so that is what I am going to do. Whether my mom dies in 2 months or 20 years, I have to believe that God will heal my mom, and that is all I have.” Some people think that I am in denial. The reality is that I am in faith. I believe God can, I believe He will. I have tried hard not to grieve. By grieving I feel like I am not walking in faith. I have tried to be strong and hopeful and positive. My mom handed me a beautifully decorated box with tea cups on it, when I put the pearls away. Inside was a tea cozy for a tea pot, her tea lid holder and a spoon from Holland. I pulled out a box that had a dazzling bracelet in there that sparkled with brilliance. My mom assured me of its monetary value and the value of the pearls. I continued to open neatly wrapped treasures in this box and unwrapped a baby dress that was mine when I was an infant. And finally, I came to the most valuable thing of all… a sewing pattern. It was the pattern my mom used to make me a doll when I was 5. She did not have much money, had me, my brother and was pregnant with my sister. I have the doll, still to this day. She sits in my baby doll cradle that has my name carved in it that sits in the corner of my room. I opened it up and saw the directions and all the pieces neatly cut out. She said, “I thought, maybe you would want it, so you can make a doll for Carah that matches.” Grief!
I was crying and told my mom thank you. She pulled me close and prayed over me. She asked the Lord to bless me and my kids, to give me life and prosperity. To help me overcome my hurts and to bring restoration to the relationships that are broken in my life with my father and brother. She asked the Lord to protect my family and blessed me in my writing. She prayed for my marriage and for my health. She blessed me.
It felt as if she was passing a torch to me. I did not want to take it. By taking that torch, I was taking on the responsibility of matriarch. I did not want to touch it. I want her to keep it. I want my mom to hold on to it. She is the matriarch in this family! I just lost my Nana, 5 years ago on my mom’s side and my grandma on my father’s side just passed away 2 months ago. I DON’T WANT IT!!! She hugged me and told me that it was going to be okay, this life is only temporary, and she reminded me. We are just strangers passing through. She called my daughter into her room and prayed over her. She prayed for her gifts and her purity. She prayed for her husband and her children that she will have one day. I was sobbing… Carah was overwhelmed and was trying not to cry. My mom gave her a box too. Inside was the tea cup that she had that matched one she gave me. She gave my sister and me tea cups that were different and she had the matching ones at her house. She told Carah that she can have it and do tea with me and think about her. Carah hugged her tightly and told her thank you and that she loved her. Carah came over to me and hugged me and said, “Are you okay mama?” I knew she was more concerned about me than she was about herself. I felt like a bad mom… I didn’t want her to worry about me. I wanted her to be in the moment with her Nana. But my daughter has seen me emotionally deteriorate this last year and has a deep concern for me. I told her I was and that she needed to focus on what Nana was saying. My mom continued to bless her and took Carah’s face in her too feeble hands and pulled her close to her and kissed her. Carah started to cry and told my mom she loved her. We packed her tea cup up and went into the living room. We sat down on the couch and my mom sat down on her chair and we all fell asleep.
It was emotionally overwhelming. I know that I am not the only person who is going through this. I know that there are a lot of people that have fought cancer, been around cancer, and lost someone they love to cancer. I know that my siblings and dad are experiencing their own grief. I know that death is a part of this life we live in… But I feel so abandoned by God right now. I do not hear Him, I cannot feel Him and I wonder if He is going to answer our prayers. I still pray, I still worship Him and I will always love Him, but I feel so far from His presence. I don’t know if I should grieve or not. It is upon me and I am fighting it.
I believe my mom is going to be healed!
I am turning 37 in 2 days. I have seen a lot in those 37 years, hurt, loved, felt abandoned and rejected, loss…I have overcome a great deal to stand on solid ground and I have been wrong about a great many things. Mostly I have loved my Lord, who has walked me through this process of life. I am at a stage in my life, where life sucks. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be that person who looks at life with fogged glasses, yet in my attempts to clean those life glasses, I only seem to scratch them and mess up their alignment. So my eyes have a hard time beholding the beauty that is around me. Help me Lord Jesus, help me.
Yesterday was a hard day with my mom. In the past when I spoke those words, it was because she and I butted heads, or she did not meet my expectation, or I did not meet hers. In the past, I would tell my mom I was upset and she would tell me I was over exaggerating or that there was a miscommunication. Yesterday was a hard day with my mom, because for the first time in this process it seems she is dying. I have been told that she was for months, and I have not believed anyone. Not because I am in denial, but because I believe God is going to heal her. I believe my God can heal her. Becky shared a quote with me from John Wimber where he said that he would go to the hospital and pray for people and believe God would heal them, and they would die. But he kept on praying. And sometimes people would live, but no matter what the outcome, he was going to keep on praying. I am a warrior. I pray and fight and fast and pray some more. I have seen God move and defend and protect and heal and give. Recently, I have noticed that I am not a warrior; I am a broken, sad, grieving girl who feels like God forgot about me.
So I travel down my life road, wondering how I am going to make it. My mom’s body is deteriorating right before my eyes. Her face and eyes are yellow, her ankle and stomach are swollen. She moves slow and sleeps a lot. The hospice chaplain came to talk and pray with my mom. He was there about an hour and then left. When he left, my mom began to sob uncontrollably. I said, maybe he shouldn’t come anymore mom. She held me tight and said, “No, it is okay Teresa, he helped me today. He helped me to understand what is going on with me emotionally.” I took a deep breath to brace myself for what she was going to say next. “I am grieving,” she said and started to cry again. “I am grieving the loss of my family. I am going to leave them and I am grieving that. I don’t want to. I am not scared or angry with God, but I had this feeling I could not figure out, and it is grief. I am grieving the fact that I won’t be here for my family and my husband and my kids and grandkids.” I hugged her with a fierce embrace and a weight came upon me. I cried with her and felt exhausted. She asked me to come with her into her room and sit with her, and so I did.
About 5 minutes went by and she opened her dresser drawer. She handed me a pouch and asked me to open it. The pouch was pink satin and had a snap and zipper on it. I unzipped the pouch and pulled out a pearl necklace. It was beautiful. My mom took my hands and put the pearls in my palm. She said, “You are my pearl. You were like a piece of sand, rough and irritating at times, but God turned you into a beautiful pearl. Look at the luster and beauty that came from a little rough piece of sand. It is shining and smooth and beautiful, just like you. I want you to have them to wear or for Carah to wear when she gets married.” Tears welled up in my eyes… I want you to be there for Carah’s wedding I thought. I want you to be there. Grief weighed upon me at that moment. But there was more. Inside the pouch was a gold ring with a small diamond in it. It was the ring I bought for my mom for Christmas the first year I started working. I was 17 when I gave it to her. She said, “I want you to give this to Carah when she is 16, so she has something from me that came from you. I want it to be passed down so that she can remember me.” At this point, I was sobbing. I have only been an adult for 20 years. I had kids young so they could be around their grandparents and experience life with them. I expected my mom to live into her 80’s and even 90’s, giving me 30 or more years with her. I was expecting my mom to die when she had white hair and lots of wrinkles. That I can understand and process, this I cannot.
People tell me all the time, when I tell them that I believe God will heal my mom, “well what if He doesn’t?” I respond quickly with, “It is not my job to know if He is or is not. It is my job to believe, and so that is what I am going to do. Whether my mom dies in 2 months or 20 years, I have to believe that God will heal my mom, and that is all I have.” Some people think that I am in denial. The reality is that I am in faith. I believe God can, I believe He will. I have tried hard not to grieve. By grieving I feel like I am not walking in faith. I have tried to be strong and hopeful and positive. My mom handed me a beautifully decorated box with tea cups on it, when I put the pearls away. Inside was a tea cozy for a tea pot, her tea lid holder and a spoon from Holland. I pulled out a box that had a dazzling bracelet in there that sparkled with brilliance. My mom assured me of its monetary value and the value of the pearls. I continued to open neatly wrapped treasures in this box and unwrapped a baby dress that was mine when I was an infant. And finally, I came to the most valuable thing of all… a sewing pattern. It was the pattern my mom used to make me a doll when I was 5. She did not have much money, had me, my brother and was pregnant with my sister. I have the doll, still to this day. She sits in my baby doll cradle that has my name carved in it that sits in the corner of my room. I opened it up and saw the directions and all the pieces neatly cut out. She said, “I thought, maybe you would want it, so you can make a doll for Carah that matches.” Grief!
I was crying and told my mom thank you. She pulled me close and prayed over me. She asked the Lord to bless me and my kids, to give me life and prosperity. To help me overcome my hurts and to bring restoration to the relationships that are broken in my life with my father and brother. She asked the Lord to protect my family and blessed me in my writing. She prayed for my marriage and for my health. She blessed me.
It felt as if she was passing a torch to me. I did not want to take it. By taking that torch, I was taking on the responsibility of matriarch. I did not want to touch it. I want her to keep it. I want my mom to hold on to it. She is the matriarch in this family! I just lost my Nana, 5 years ago on my mom’s side and my grandma on my father’s side just passed away 2 months ago. I DON’T WANT IT!!! She hugged me and told me that it was going to be okay, this life is only temporary, and she reminded me. We are just strangers passing through. She called my daughter into her room and prayed over her. She prayed for her gifts and her purity. She prayed for her husband and her children that she will have one day. I was sobbing… Carah was overwhelmed and was trying not to cry. My mom gave her a box too. Inside was the tea cup that she had that matched one she gave me. She gave my sister and me tea cups that were different and she had the matching ones at her house. She told Carah that she can have it and do tea with me and think about her. Carah hugged her tightly and told her thank you and that she loved her. Carah came over to me and hugged me and said, “Are you okay mama?” I knew she was more concerned about me than she was about herself. I felt like a bad mom… I didn’t want her to worry about me. I wanted her to be in the moment with her Nana. But my daughter has seen me emotionally deteriorate this last year and has a deep concern for me. I told her I was and that she needed to focus on what Nana was saying. My mom continued to bless her and took Carah’s face in her too feeble hands and pulled her close to her and kissed her. Carah started to cry and told my mom she loved her. We packed her tea cup up and went into the living room. We sat down on the couch and my mom sat down on her chair and we all fell asleep.
It was emotionally overwhelming. I know that I am not the only person who is going through this. I know that there are a lot of people that have fought cancer, been around cancer, and lost someone they love to cancer. I know that my siblings and dad are experiencing their own grief. I know that death is a part of this life we live in… But I feel so abandoned by God right now. I do not hear Him, I cannot feel Him and I wonder if He is going to answer our prayers. I still pray, I still worship Him and I will always love Him, but I feel so far from His presence. I don’t know if I should grieve or not. It is upon me and I am fighting it.
I believe my mom is going to be healed!
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Legacy
It has been said that there is at least one person in our lives who inspires us, who challenge us, who mentor us to be the people we turn out to be. Most of the time it is in the tender places of our childhood, where our roots are shallow and tender. Other times it is well into adulthood when our solid oaks of who we are are transformed by a wack to the trunk and we are no longer the tree we thought we were. I have seen with my own eyes, lives shaped, changed, transformed by this journey of life. Some things so beautifully intententional, others devestating to the soul.
I have been hiding from life these days. Wondering at the place I am. Looking at the faces of my children, who are looking like men and a little woman. There are no toys on my floors, no cartoons to watch and no car seats to buckle in. I wonder if I will be that person who inspires my children. I wonder I will be the one who gave my kids the emotional and spiritual strength in who they are becoming. It is hard to be in this place. I can no longer hide our struggles from them. They know when there is no money and when we go to the food bank, or pretend to go camping in the backyard. They know that when their parents argue it is over the weight of not knowing how or when things are going to change. I watch their faces and hear them laugh and see them cry. I know they carry some of the burden and I want to take it from them. Mostly, I feel blessed that they are near me, safe and protected.
I think to the time when I was young. I was always so passionate, full of life and adventure. By the time I was 10, I wanted to be the first woman astronaught in space. By the time I was 12, I wanted to be the first female president. By the time I was 13, I wanted to be in the Olympics and break the world record for speed. By the time I was 14, I wanted to start my own business. By t he time I was 15, I wanted to be a business woman, who made millions of dollars. By the time I was 16, I was in love and didn't really care about much of anything. By the time I was 17, I wanted to be a missionary in Africa. By the time I was 18, I wanted to travel the world. By the time I was 19, I met a man, God told me was my husband. By the time I was 20, I was married. When the ring was put on my finger and I said, I do, I no longer had personal ambitions and dreams, I now had married ambitions and dreams. By the time I was 21, I had my first son and that began my journey of motherhood. I did not ever go on the adventures I had planned...just a different adventure.
Motherhood. I don't believe that was in my list... Wait. Did I know how to be a mom, could I be a good mom? The quest of determining what we were to do with parenthood, became the topic of most of my husband and my conversations. Would I be a mom, just a mom? No career, no path, no dream, just mom? Yes, I could go down that path. I could take one step at a time. I could feed and love and care for this little one. Then the next little one, then the next. I navigated through some deep waters with much prayer and trust in my Savior. I took one step at a time and fell and soared and tripped and ran. I was a mom. I am a mom.
I am watching my own mother navigate through her thoughts and assessing her life as she battles this wicked disease. I see her fight for what she desires and believes to be true. I have listened to her stories and seen the books she filled her soul and spirit with. I have watched her read the Bible and talk about seeing Jesus. I listen to her tell me about all the fond memories she has of her 4 children and the things we did. My mom was a career mom. She worked long hours and was mom when she could. She struggled to be the stay at home mom she wanted to be in the short hours she had with us, when she was not working. It was in the hours she was working were most of my bad memories come in. I believe that is why I had a hard time with my mom. She does not know or remember or was even a part of those times. Part of me holds her responsible for not being there for me when I needed her to be; and part of me understands why she was not there. I feel like the Lord has given me a gift in helping me to understand why my mom sees things so differently than me. This gift has given me grace and love for my mom that I have not had before. There are still many things we do not agree on, but I am willing to give them to God for His care.
And so, I think about my life and who has inspired me. Who has made an impact on my life? There are so many people who have gently nudged or shoved or even carried me down this river of life. My mom is one of those people who gave me gifts along the way, who I in turn hope to give to my children.
The word legacy comes to mind. It is not just an idea, but a treasury of people and things that make up who we are today. The books on my shelf, the cookie cutters in my drawer, the tea cup in my cabinet, the doll in the cradle, the candlesticks on my mantel.... have given me a legacy that I can pass down to my kids. Each item, each story, each person who impacted me, will also shape my children. It is with that hope that I believe I can and will be that person who inspires my kids. Because in reality it is not really just me who is inspiring and shaping them, but all the people who helped me be who I am today.
I have been hiding from life these days. Wondering at the place I am. Looking at the faces of my children, who are looking like men and a little woman. There are no toys on my floors, no cartoons to watch and no car seats to buckle in. I wonder if I will be that person who inspires my children. I wonder I will be the one who gave my kids the emotional and spiritual strength in who they are becoming. It is hard to be in this place. I can no longer hide our struggles from them. They know when there is no money and when we go to the food bank, or pretend to go camping in the backyard. They know that when their parents argue it is over the weight of not knowing how or when things are going to change. I watch their faces and hear them laugh and see them cry. I know they carry some of the burden and I want to take it from them. Mostly, I feel blessed that they are near me, safe and protected.
I think to the time when I was young. I was always so passionate, full of life and adventure. By the time I was 10, I wanted to be the first woman astronaught in space. By the time I was 12, I wanted to be the first female president. By the time I was 13, I wanted to be in the Olympics and break the world record for speed. By the time I was 14, I wanted to start my own business. By t he time I was 15, I wanted to be a business woman, who made millions of dollars. By the time I was 16, I was in love and didn't really care about much of anything. By the time I was 17, I wanted to be a missionary in Africa. By the time I was 18, I wanted to travel the world. By the time I was 19, I met a man, God told me was my husband. By the time I was 20, I was married. When the ring was put on my finger and I said, I do, I no longer had personal ambitions and dreams, I now had married ambitions and dreams. By the time I was 21, I had my first son and that began my journey of motherhood. I did not ever go on the adventures I had planned...just a different adventure.
Motherhood. I don't believe that was in my list... Wait. Did I know how to be a mom, could I be a good mom? The quest of determining what we were to do with parenthood, became the topic of most of my husband and my conversations. Would I be a mom, just a mom? No career, no path, no dream, just mom? Yes, I could go down that path. I could take one step at a time. I could feed and love and care for this little one. Then the next little one, then the next. I navigated through some deep waters with much prayer and trust in my Savior. I took one step at a time and fell and soared and tripped and ran. I was a mom. I am a mom.
I am watching my own mother navigate through her thoughts and assessing her life as she battles this wicked disease. I see her fight for what she desires and believes to be true. I have listened to her stories and seen the books she filled her soul and spirit with. I have watched her read the Bible and talk about seeing Jesus. I listen to her tell me about all the fond memories she has of her 4 children and the things we did. My mom was a career mom. She worked long hours and was mom when she could. She struggled to be the stay at home mom she wanted to be in the short hours she had with us, when she was not working. It was in the hours she was working were most of my bad memories come in. I believe that is why I had a hard time with my mom. She does not know or remember or was even a part of those times. Part of me holds her responsible for not being there for me when I needed her to be; and part of me understands why she was not there. I feel like the Lord has given me a gift in helping me to understand why my mom sees things so differently than me. This gift has given me grace and love for my mom that I have not had before. There are still many things we do not agree on, but I am willing to give them to God for His care.
And so, I think about my life and who has inspired me. Who has made an impact on my life? There are so many people who have gently nudged or shoved or even carried me down this river of life. My mom is one of those people who gave me gifts along the way, who I in turn hope to give to my children.
The word legacy comes to mind. It is not just an idea, but a treasury of people and things that make up who we are today. The books on my shelf, the cookie cutters in my drawer, the tea cup in my cabinet, the doll in the cradle, the candlesticks on my mantel.... have given me a legacy that I can pass down to my kids. Each item, each story, each person who impacted me, will also shape my children. It is with that hope that I believe I can and will be that person who inspires my kids. Because in reality it is not really just me who is inspiring and shaping them, but all the people who helped me be who I am today.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Jesus Wept
Wednesday, June 15th
The emotions are high. Feeling as if I am coming out of my skin. I have been here before. This all to familiar place of anxiety and lack of control; feeling overwhelmed and uneasy. I need help! I want to call every person I know to help, but then pull back and remind myself I need to go to my Father in heaven first. Then I sit quietly trying to talk… and the air is silent. I hear Him tell me to breath; sit on His lap, put my head on His chest and just breath. So I do. I it so hard to just sit and listen to the heartbeat of God. I want to run and conquer and take over territory, so my mom will live. But my Father holds me tight, to keep me still. It reminds me of what I used to do with Elijah. He was so active that in order to get him to bed at night, we would have to use brut force to hold him close to us, to keep him still long enough, so he would fall asleep. I am picturing that with me and my Father.
Yet even in the quietest places of my space, I feel as if my soul (emotions) are in control. I want my spirit always to be in control, yet there is a constant battle that rages between my soul, flesh and body… My emotions are usually the last part of me that has control… My spirit and flesh war more than my soul… My soul usually takes a back seat and watches the other two parts of me battle it out. That is because I trained it to do so. I go into full bore William Wallace mode when I am hurting and it keeps the emotions down.
Recently, however, that side of me is fighting for control as well… I went outside when some things were said about my mom’s healing and started to cry. Then I got angry, then I wanted to go off… I felt overwhelmed again!
An in a very loving voice, I heard the Lord say, “Jesus wept.” “I know Jesus wept!” was my response. And then the Lord said it again. I was trying to figure out what that had to do with me… and the Lord reminded me that Jesus, His son, had the power to raise Lazarus from the dead, yet he still wept. Jesus knew he was going to raise him from the dead, yet he still wept. In the most powerful man on earth, was a soul. A soul that became overwhelmed with emotion of the thought of his friend being dead, and so wept. I felt amazed at this insight. He wept, not because Lazarus was dead! He wept, because he had deep emotions about his friend’s death… even in knowing he was going to raise him from the dead!!! WOW!!!
I am now, trying to embrace this emotional overload of reality that keeps hitting me in the face! So Lord, help me feel, not to the point of a total meltdown, but to the point that is heathly and helpful and real… Amen
The emotions are high. Feeling as if I am coming out of my skin. I have been here before. This all to familiar place of anxiety and lack of control; feeling overwhelmed and uneasy. I need help! I want to call every person I know to help, but then pull back and remind myself I need to go to my Father in heaven first. Then I sit quietly trying to talk… and the air is silent. I hear Him tell me to breath; sit on His lap, put my head on His chest and just breath. So I do. I it so hard to just sit and listen to the heartbeat of God. I want to run and conquer and take over territory, so my mom will live. But my Father holds me tight, to keep me still. It reminds me of what I used to do with Elijah. He was so active that in order to get him to bed at night, we would have to use brut force to hold him close to us, to keep him still long enough, so he would fall asleep. I am picturing that with me and my Father.
Yet even in the quietest places of my space, I feel as if my soul (emotions) are in control. I want my spirit always to be in control, yet there is a constant battle that rages between my soul, flesh and body… My emotions are usually the last part of me that has control… My spirit and flesh war more than my soul… My soul usually takes a back seat and watches the other two parts of me battle it out. That is because I trained it to do so. I go into full bore William Wallace mode when I am hurting and it keeps the emotions down.
Recently, however, that side of me is fighting for control as well… I went outside when some things were said about my mom’s healing and started to cry. Then I got angry, then I wanted to go off… I felt overwhelmed again!
An in a very loving voice, I heard the Lord say, “Jesus wept.” “I know Jesus wept!” was my response. And then the Lord said it again. I was trying to figure out what that had to do with me… and the Lord reminded me that Jesus, His son, had the power to raise Lazarus from the dead, yet he still wept. Jesus knew he was going to raise him from the dead, yet he still wept. In the most powerful man on earth, was a soul. A soul that became overwhelmed with emotion of the thought of his friend being dead, and so wept. I felt amazed at this insight. He wept, not because Lazarus was dead! He wept, because he had deep emotions about his friend’s death… even in knowing he was going to raise him from the dead!!! WOW!!!
I am now, trying to embrace this emotional overload of reality that keeps hitting me in the face! So Lord, help me feel, not to the point of a total meltdown, but to the point that is heathly and helpful and real… Amen
Monday, June 13, 2011
Letting Go
Monday, June 13, 2011
Letting go…
I hold on, tight, to everything I love. I don’t want it to slip through my fingers. I love my husband and hold him very tight, very close to me. My children are my heart and I squish them and hold them, as much as I can, as long as they will let me. I hold on to my extended family and love them, sometimes from a distance, but deep inside my heart.
This morning Elijah went to summer school at the local high school. A sophomore, my baby is a sophomore. The time has flown by and I am not sure where it went. He looks so confident, so sure. He is in a new environment, new town, new surroundings. I want to hold on to him. Keep him at home and home school him until he graduates, but chances are I would be writing this same thing 3 years from now about letting go. It is so hard. I want to savor every moment and I am nowhere near him. When he gets home from football or school, he gives me a 10 minutes lowdown of an 8 hour day. He is becoming a man and I have to let go so that he can walk all the way down the road to adulthood.
These are the moments I wish I had more kids. These are the days when my heart beats out of my chest in agony of having to let go. I ponder these things and wonder why I don’t want to let go. Where is the root of this? I wonder if it has to do with letting go of my dad when he and my mom were divorced. Maybe it has to do with letting go of believing my parents would get back together. Maybe it is letting go my siblings when I got married and left home when they were still young. Maybe it has to do with letting go with my father, who I try to make have a relationship with me. Perhaps it is letting go of the hope of being close to my extended family. Could it be letting go of the anger I had for the person who stole my innocence and then denied it. Or maybe it is letting go of the pain I have felt for so long. Maybe it is the pain that chiseled and defined me as a person. I have had to let go of that false identity and learn all over again who I really am.
The hardest thing I had to do so far was let go of my sister. I always had to protect, and encourage and inspire and push. Or did I? I had to let go of feeling responsible for her and just being her sister. I have an amazing relationship with her, but have had to learn how to redefine my relationship with her, hands open, instead of hands clenched.
So I hold tight, since so many things were taken out of my hand, without my consent. So many things in my life were ripped from me, leaving scars on my hands. I do not want to do that to my kids, my husband. I want to love them with open hands, open arms, so they have the freedom to be who God created them to be. I let go, because they belong to God, everything I hold tight to, belongs to God.
And now I am sitting here, wondering how I am going to let go of my mom. Learning how to let go of the control I think I have in her healing, in her health. I am a fighter and so believe that if I fight hard enough, I will conquer the cancer. But I am learning that it is not my fight. All I can do is pray, lover her and surrender the rest to God.
Funny, today my devotional was called “Letting Go is Hard.” Hmmmm…
Letting Go Is Hard
I am the LORD your God. You shall have no other gods before Me. Exodus 20:2-3
What are you needlessly holding on to so tightly today? Corrie Ten Boom once said that she learned to hold on to things loosely because it hurt too much when God pried them away. There are many things in our life that we get attached to: our work becomes our identity, our homes become our personality, our children become our goals. Sometimes it is hard to know who we were before these things came in and took over our lives. Where do I end and these things begin? When God challenges us on our priorities, it is difficult to truly understand what He is doing.
Because I work in the ministry, it gets confusing at times to separate my walk with the Lord from my work in the Lord. Recently, I have fallen in love with the plans of a ministry that truly helps people and honors God. I received His promises and His revelation of how to get the ministry started. Then, out of the blue, I had the sense that He wanted me to give the ministry to someone else to do. He used me to get the ministry going, but now He wanted me to let it go and not feel that I must do the work for Him. It was hard to let go because that ministry had become a key part of my life. How do you let go of something that God placed in your heart to do, so that you can honor God by not doing it?
We have to remember that nothing is ours. We are just stewards entrusted with the Master's gifts. Our calling is to be obedient. Our hearts are to have nothing above Him, including His ministries or His children or His blessings. These things become little gods in our lives if we are not careful, because even they can be all-consuming over dedicated devotion to Him. We are to align ourselves up with Jesus, to rest at His feet and to have a relationship with Him. Jesus wants you, not what you can do!
Lord, thank You that You don't want my attention divided. I am sorry that I fall in love with the blessings You have given me to a point of missing Your will. Help me to walk in Your paths and stay in step with Your call. You have given me everything I have and I give it all back to You. Be glorified in me, Lord. I know I can't let go on my own, so I will pray for Your guidance. May I be an open vessel for You, only allowing what You desire to flow through me in whatever timing You want it to flow. Thank You for reminding me that nothing that I own is really is mine: work, family, accomplishments, possessions. It is all Yours. I look around me this moment and think of all the blessings You have provided, reminding myself that none of it is mine to keep. Father, I just want to be a faithful steward of everything You have provided me, offering it all back to You in some way. Show me how I am to do that today. I want to use what you have provided me to glorify You. Amen.
Original source: Daily Disciples
Letting go…
I hold on, tight, to everything I love. I don’t want it to slip through my fingers. I love my husband and hold him very tight, very close to me. My children are my heart and I squish them and hold them, as much as I can, as long as they will let me. I hold on to my extended family and love them, sometimes from a distance, but deep inside my heart.
This morning Elijah went to summer school at the local high school. A sophomore, my baby is a sophomore. The time has flown by and I am not sure where it went. He looks so confident, so sure. He is in a new environment, new town, new surroundings. I want to hold on to him. Keep him at home and home school him until he graduates, but chances are I would be writing this same thing 3 years from now about letting go. It is so hard. I want to savor every moment and I am nowhere near him. When he gets home from football or school, he gives me a 10 minutes lowdown of an 8 hour day. He is becoming a man and I have to let go so that he can walk all the way down the road to adulthood.
These are the moments I wish I had more kids. These are the days when my heart beats out of my chest in agony of having to let go. I ponder these things and wonder why I don’t want to let go. Where is the root of this? I wonder if it has to do with letting go of my dad when he and my mom were divorced. Maybe it has to do with letting go of believing my parents would get back together. Maybe it is letting go my siblings when I got married and left home when they were still young. Maybe it has to do with letting go with my father, who I try to make have a relationship with me. Perhaps it is letting go of the hope of being close to my extended family. Could it be letting go of the anger I had for the person who stole my innocence and then denied it. Or maybe it is letting go of the pain I have felt for so long. Maybe it is the pain that chiseled and defined me as a person. I have had to let go of that false identity and learn all over again who I really am.
The hardest thing I had to do so far was let go of my sister. I always had to protect, and encourage and inspire and push. Or did I? I had to let go of feeling responsible for her and just being her sister. I have an amazing relationship with her, but have had to learn how to redefine my relationship with her, hands open, instead of hands clenched.
So I hold tight, since so many things were taken out of my hand, without my consent. So many things in my life were ripped from me, leaving scars on my hands. I do not want to do that to my kids, my husband. I want to love them with open hands, open arms, so they have the freedom to be who God created them to be. I let go, because they belong to God, everything I hold tight to, belongs to God.
And now I am sitting here, wondering how I am going to let go of my mom. Learning how to let go of the control I think I have in her healing, in her health. I am a fighter and so believe that if I fight hard enough, I will conquer the cancer. But I am learning that it is not my fight. All I can do is pray, lover her and surrender the rest to God.
Funny, today my devotional was called “Letting Go is Hard.” Hmmmm…
Letting Go Is Hard
I am the LORD your God. You shall have no other gods before Me. Exodus 20:2-3
What are you needlessly holding on to so tightly today? Corrie Ten Boom once said that she learned to hold on to things loosely because it hurt too much when God pried them away. There are many things in our life that we get attached to: our work becomes our identity, our homes become our personality, our children become our goals. Sometimes it is hard to know who we were before these things came in and took over our lives. Where do I end and these things begin? When God challenges us on our priorities, it is difficult to truly understand what He is doing.
Because I work in the ministry, it gets confusing at times to separate my walk with the Lord from my work in the Lord. Recently, I have fallen in love with the plans of a ministry that truly helps people and honors God. I received His promises and His revelation of how to get the ministry started. Then, out of the blue, I had the sense that He wanted me to give the ministry to someone else to do. He used me to get the ministry going, but now He wanted me to let it go and not feel that I must do the work for Him. It was hard to let go because that ministry had become a key part of my life. How do you let go of something that God placed in your heart to do, so that you can honor God by not doing it?
We have to remember that nothing is ours. We are just stewards entrusted with the Master's gifts. Our calling is to be obedient. Our hearts are to have nothing above Him, including His ministries or His children or His blessings. These things become little gods in our lives if we are not careful, because even they can be all-consuming over dedicated devotion to Him. We are to align ourselves up with Jesus, to rest at His feet and to have a relationship with Him. Jesus wants you, not what you can do!
Lord, thank You that You don't want my attention divided. I am sorry that I fall in love with the blessings You have given me to a point of missing Your will. Help me to walk in Your paths and stay in step with Your call. You have given me everything I have and I give it all back to You. Be glorified in me, Lord. I know I can't let go on my own, so I will pray for Your guidance. May I be an open vessel for You, only allowing what You desire to flow through me in whatever timing You want it to flow. Thank You for reminding me that nothing that I own is really is mine: work, family, accomplishments, possessions. It is all Yours. I look around me this moment and think of all the blessings You have provided, reminding myself that none of it is mine to keep. Father, I just want to be a faithful steward of everything You have provided me, offering it all back to You in some way. Show me how I am to do that today. I want to use what you have provided me to glorify You. Amen.
Original source: Daily Disciples
Christmas music
My sister and I are sitting her listening to Christmas music... Why... well perhaps it is the joy of memories... the happy times we shared as kids with our mom and father and with our own kids... Maybe it is because it reminds us our Savior... who is the only one who is walking this out with us...
We laughed as We wish you a Merry Christmas came on... and I wanted to bring my sister some figgy pudding, since she is pregnant.. Then, "It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas" came on... We bust out laughing...because you know 85 degree weather is a lot like Christmas...
We kept on laughing and was so glad... we needed to. The intensity is overwhelming around here with my mom's cancer.
I am thankful for our daughters who wanted to dance before this. We all swung our arms and shook our boodies to the music. There was a lot of joy. The boys were playing LIFE and looked at us like we were some crazy moms... we are. After we put the kids to bed it seemed appropiate to listen to Christmas music... and it gave us a calm and a peace that can only come from God.
Silent night, holy night, all is calm all is bright!
We laughed as We wish you a Merry Christmas came on... and I wanted to bring my sister some figgy pudding, since she is pregnant.. Then, "It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas" came on... We bust out laughing...because you know 85 degree weather is a lot like Christmas...
We kept on laughing and was so glad... we needed to. The intensity is overwhelming around here with my mom's cancer.
I am thankful for our daughters who wanted to dance before this. We all swung our arms and shook our boodies to the music. There was a lot of joy. The boys were playing LIFE and looked at us like we were some crazy moms... we are. After we put the kids to bed it seemed appropiate to listen to Christmas music... and it gave us a calm and a peace that can only come from God.
Silent night, holy night, all is calm all is bright!
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Depth of Emotions...
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Stayed up late talking to my brother Eric and sister Cari… The depth of emotions is great. My mom sat all 4 of us kids down in her room with my step-dad and began to talk to us about things she did and did not want us to do. I was irritated, mad, frustrated, sad, overwhelmed… Micah, the youngest said, as we walked in, “I feel like a kid, like we are about to get in trouble.” We all chuckled. My heart was aching mostly for Micah. He has always felt like the odd man out. My mom made comments like, I am mostly talking to you (referring to Eric, Cari and I). Sigh… divorce is soooo hard…No matter how hard you try, it seems like someone is left out. She told kept talking about unity… We prayed together, my step dad started and then it was silent. I was about to pray, but before I could get myself together emotionally, my mom prayed. I felt like, oh crap… she thinks no one want to pray for her… anxiety… guilt… breath Teresa, breath…
My mom’s house was filled with people… mostly family. There were a few friends there… One of my mom’s friends is so negative… I wanted to tell her to get the f#*% out of my mom’s house… not the most Christ like and loving thing… It is as if she has some spell on my mom and was sucking the life out of her. The rage rose up in me and I had to walk outside… letting go God… letting go. I do not how…breathing, praying, and breathing. My cousin Christie came out and talked to me, prayed with me…
Went to church today…surrounded by people who speak life. Came home and talked to my Tia Karen. She told me my mom was going to die in 2 weeks… What the Snapple!!! If one more person gives me a time frame of my mom’s death I am going to punch them. Only God knows…like I said before, I am being sure of what I hope for, until she dies (whether that be 2 weeks or 40 years from now0.
Today, I am not sad… I am angry… I want to fight, but have to surrender to God… urgh!
Stayed up late talking to my brother Eric and sister Cari… The depth of emotions is great. My mom sat all 4 of us kids down in her room with my step-dad and began to talk to us about things she did and did not want us to do. I was irritated, mad, frustrated, sad, overwhelmed… Micah, the youngest said, as we walked in, “I feel like a kid, like we are about to get in trouble.” We all chuckled. My heart was aching mostly for Micah. He has always felt like the odd man out. My mom made comments like, I am mostly talking to you (referring to Eric, Cari and I). Sigh… divorce is soooo hard…No matter how hard you try, it seems like someone is left out. She told kept talking about unity… We prayed together, my step dad started and then it was silent. I was about to pray, but before I could get myself together emotionally, my mom prayed. I felt like, oh crap… she thinks no one want to pray for her… anxiety… guilt… breath Teresa, breath…
My mom’s house was filled with people… mostly family. There were a few friends there… One of my mom’s friends is so negative… I wanted to tell her to get the f#*% out of my mom’s house… not the most Christ like and loving thing… It is as if she has some spell on my mom and was sucking the life out of her. The rage rose up in me and I had to walk outside… letting go God… letting go. I do not how…breathing, praying, and breathing. My cousin Christie came out and talked to me, prayed with me…
Went to church today…surrounded by people who speak life. Came home and talked to my Tia Karen. She told me my mom was going to die in 2 weeks… What the Snapple!!! If one more person gives me a time frame of my mom’s death I am going to punch them. Only God knows…like I said before, I am being sure of what I hope for, until she dies (whether that be 2 weeks or 40 years from now0.
Today, I am not sad… I am angry… I want to fight, but have to surrender to God… urgh!
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Hope is...letting go
June 10, 2011
My posture seems different… hoping. Hope, what is hope exactly?
I am hoping my mom gets well. I am hoping God is healing her, even now. The amazing thing about hope is that is seems to need companions… It seems to me that hope fades when you are hoping alone. It is my experience that the more people who are around who are hoping for the same thing. The easier it is to hope.
I didn’t see my mom today. Instead I spent 5 hours talking, praying and pondering this experience with Becky, who God has brought into my life to be a spiritual midwife, of sorts. My cousin came with me and the spirit of God gave me even more hope. Hope of restoration, hope of healing, hope of joy, hope for the future. At this moment, I can not see death in my mom, only life. I do not see hopelessness, only hope. My sister spent most of the day with her. My mom has people around her 24/7. My brothers are staying at her house until Sunday, a friend is staying with her until Sunday. She has visitors that stop by all day long and receives phone call and packages every day. My Tia Karen just flew in and my Tia Jaunita (my mom’s sister) her husband Jun and my cousin Roxanne are all visiting her tomorrow. My cousin Roxanne flew in from Kuwait tonight. Today my cousin Christie and her family are coming with me and my kids to visit.
I felt angry that my mom was not getting rest… Wait what? Angry… what the hell… why would I be angry? I seriously have some control issues… or is it that I feel like my hope for healing is getting trampled on because she is not getting rest… I had to breath… my husband said, “Honey, it is probably better than worse that people are lining up at the door to see you mom.. It will bring her joy and she will feel loved. Perhaps that part of the healing process for her. You just have to trust God.”
He is so right… I determined that I am a fixer. If there is a problem, I fix it. If I cant fix it, I get pissed… I get frustrated… so here I am Lord, giving it up to you… I can not fix it, only you can. You are in control.. I am letting go…
My posture seems different… hoping. Hope, what is hope exactly?
I am hoping my mom gets well. I am hoping God is healing her, even now. The amazing thing about hope is that is seems to need companions… It seems to me that hope fades when you are hoping alone. It is my experience that the more people who are around who are hoping for the same thing. The easier it is to hope.
I didn’t see my mom today. Instead I spent 5 hours talking, praying and pondering this experience with Becky, who God has brought into my life to be a spiritual midwife, of sorts. My cousin came with me and the spirit of God gave me even more hope. Hope of restoration, hope of healing, hope of joy, hope for the future. At this moment, I can not see death in my mom, only life. I do not see hopelessness, only hope. My sister spent most of the day with her. My mom has people around her 24/7. My brothers are staying at her house until Sunday, a friend is staying with her until Sunday. She has visitors that stop by all day long and receives phone call and packages every day. My Tia Karen just flew in and my Tia Jaunita (my mom’s sister) her husband Jun and my cousin Roxanne are all visiting her tomorrow. My cousin Roxanne flew in from Kuwait tonight. Today my cousin Christie and her family are coming with me and my kids to visit.
I felt angry that my mom was not getting rest… Wait what? Angry… what the hell… why would I be angry? I seriously have some control issues… or is it that I feel like my hope for healing is getting trampled on because she is not getting rest… I had to breath… my husband said, “Honey, it is probably better than worse that people are lining up at the door to see you mom.. It will bring her joy and she will feel loved. Perhaps that part of the healing process for her. You just have to trust God.”
He is so right… I determined that I am a fixer. If there is a problem, I fix it. If I cant fix it, I get pissed… I get frustrated… so here I am Lord, giving it up to you… I can not fix it, only you can. You are in control.. I am letting go…
Being sure...
June 9, 2011
This morning I was praying and talking to God about my faith. The verse "Faith is being sure of what you hope for and certain of what you do not see," came to mind. The Holy Spirit spoke write to my little broken heart and said, "faith is being sure of what your HOPE for... not sure of God's will, not sure of your understanding, not sure of the future... Sure of your hope.... just hope...You are HOPING your mom is healed... just continue to hope and be sure of that hope... don’t worry about whether or not it is God's will or if you have enough of faith... you just be sure of that hope you have for healing in your moms body..." Being sure... okay… being sure….
sure
adj.
1. Impossible to doubt or dispute; certain.
2. Not hesitating or wavering; firm: sure convictions.
3. Confident, as of something awaited or expected: sure of ultimate victory.
4.
a. Bound to come about or happen; inevitable: sure defeat.
b. Having one's course directed; destined or bound: sure to succeed.
5. Certain not to miss or err; steady: a sure hand on the throttle.
6.
a. Worthy of being trusted or depended on; reliable.
b. Free from or marked by freedom from doubt: sure of her friends.
7. Careful to do something: asked me to be sure to turn off the stove.
8. Obsolete Free from harm or danger; safe.
This morning I was praying and talking to God about my faith. The verse "Faith is being sure of what you hope for and certain of what you do not see," came to mind. The Holy Spirit spoke write to my little broken heart and said, "faith is being sure of what your HOPE for... not sure of God's will, not sure of your understanding, not sure of the future... Sure of your hope.... just hope...You are HOPING your mom is healed... just continue to hope and be sure of that hope... don’t worry about whether or not it is God's will or if you have enough of faith... you just be sure of that hope you have for healing in your moms body..." Being sure... okay… being sure….
sure
adj.
1. Impossible to doubt or dispute; certain.
2. Not hesitating or wavering; firm: sure convictions.
3. Confident, as of something awaited or expected: sure of ultimate victory.
4.
a. Bound to come about or happen; inevitable: sure defeat.
b. Having one's course directed; destined or bound: sure to succeed.
5. Certain not to miss or err; steady: a sure hand on the throttle.
6.
a. Worthy of being trusted or depended on; reliable.
b. Free from or marked by freedom from doubt: sure of her friends.
7. Careful to do something: asked me to be sure to turn off the stove.
8. Obsolete Free from harm or danger; safe.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
The journey of hope and healing...
Saturday, June 4th
My brother called me this morning and told me that my step dad was in hysterics and falling apart. My mom has not been eating or drinking and can’t sleep. The tumor has exploded in her body and all of her systems are shutting down. My brother told me that she probably has only one more week to live.
I cannot even begin to tell you the range of emotions I am feeling. I am angry and sad, hurt and confused... There are so many factors involved in my relationship with her and I am brokenhearted. I do not do sadness well... only anger... thanks to my "spiritual midwife" who pointed that out. I can control anger and so when I am sad or hurt, go there... I do not know how to be sad or hurt. I have been experiencing a lot of hurt these days and I am deeply emotionally jacked up. It is as if someone took the cap off the well and now everything I have controlled for all of these years is gushing out with uncontrollable intensity.
I love my mother deeply. I always have. I wish I was closer to her. I wish I could share my heart with her. Sigh
I am telling you these things because you are all close to me in some capacity. I need you to help me through this...in prayers, in words, in just being next to me. I do not know how to mourn; I do not know how to grieve. I am not sure what it will look like. So let me apologize ahead of time for any abnormal behavior I may exhibit in this process.
I am the strong one in my family... I have said for years... but am learning that this is not my identity. I don't know what my identity is, and is learning who I am in Christ. It is a process, and I might flip flop like a fish out of water in this place.
Please give me grace, please.
Monday, June 6th
So here it is... my heart open... it is easier for me to write this down for all to read, then talking to people... so if I am not answering your calls, it is because I am too tired and emotional to talk... You know me, I love to talk... but these days I am finding I would prefer to stay in my house, in my room listening to birds chirp, and watching the clouds go by. I feel like I am forgetting people, so if I added you to this conversation after my initial, it is only because I am overwhelmed, not because I do not love you or you are not valuable to me. My mom is frail. She is holding on for everyone else, I discern, to be sure to say their goodbyes and to talk about things that need to be talked about. She seems peaceful, ready to go. Not fighting it, not angry. I can't help but think of all the times my mom is going to miss... She is not going to see my son graduate from high school in three years. She will miss seeing my Noah play quarterback this year. She will not be at my daughter’s wedding. She will not see my sisters new baby.... pain... so much pain... she will not see her grandkids grow up. My sisters kids are 10 and under and my brothers kids are 4 and 2. MY youngest brother is not married and has no kids... She will not see my youngest brother get married... sigh... she won’t be there for my stepdad when his parents pass away, as she will go first. This is so wrong, so crazy... I want to scream and yell... I want to fast and pray and put sackcloth and ashes on my head until she is healed... My understanding of things is being tossed around in a tornado, causing havoc and grief... What the HELL... why... Even in the hardest moments with my mother, even in the most painful areas in my heart that my mother inflicted, there was still a love, still a hope I help onto for complete and total healing and restoration for our relationship so that we could laugh together and go to tea together and takes walks together... but now that hope is gone. I WILL have restoration, I do, even now... but I will not get to walk it out in this life. I will not get to feel her flesh and touch her hair... Then I think, am I giving up? Do I not have enough faith for her healing? Have I just surrendered to what my eyes see and not what my spirit hopes for? Is it her time? Or has her life been cut short? I do not know... All I can do is cry... I spend half the night crying... I can’t read my Bible, don’t say much to God. I felt as if I had crawled up on Gods lap, put my head on his chest and just cried....this is the worst feeling I have ever experienced in my life... My chest hurts, my head hurts, and my body aches with sorrow... My mom said all she wants prayer for is healing and NO pain...That God would take her physical pain away... If you could partner in prayer with me, I would be appreciative.
Wednesday, June 8th
4am...
Awake, feeling overwhelmed...my chest aches with pain...I have to make sure I breath in deep to counter the aches...it is from anxiety. I have had these pains before, been rushed to the hospital before in fear, only to be told I am suffering an anxiety attack... I don't really know where that is coming from. Is it the fear of mom dying? Is it the sadness that is too overwhelming? Is it sorrow?
Today I met with the hospice lady with my mom and step-dad. She explained things and I took notes. She talked to my mom about code status... I heard what she said but asked her to repeat herself many times. Finally my mom said," Teresa I am not going home on full code. If the worst happens, they will not recessitate." The hospice lady asked me IF I could do it. If, worst case scenario, and her body is not healed, could I watch her die and not panic. Could I just sit there with her and watch?
I did not fully process the question...Here I am, a daughter of the God who created the heavens and earth. The God who raised Jesus from the dead. The God who gave power to his son to heal the sick, give sight to the blind, and raise the dead. Could I just let my mom die at 57, never to fulfill the long life, I believe God intended us all to live?
My mom told me this morning that she believed God would heal her body, but now, as she is sitting in the hospital, she is beginning to doubt her own faith. Wondering, do I not have enough? I sat there in silence, not knowing how to assure her or comfort her, as I too am questioning my faith. Then, as if God picked her up from her seat and dropped her in the room, a friend of mine stopped by the hospital. I did not tell her where my mom was and had not talked to her much other than Facebook. She came in, with her comedy central personality and began to minister to my mom in a way I wish I could. She talked about the very thing my mom had just spoken of… It was divine and poetic. She reminded my mom of the verse that says we need to labor to rest… in other words it is hard work to just rest. She reminded my mom that she only needed a mustard seed of faith and God would do the rest. She told my mom not to worry about how much faith she has or does not have, but to just rest in the knowledge that so many others are fighting on her behalf. She gave the analogy of Moses fighting and fighting in faith, by raising his hands to the heavens until he was too weary to fight any more. It was at that point that people raised his hands to help carry his burden to win the battle. She assured her that there were so many more people raising her hands in faith and hope and life. Then she gave me permission to do the same. To allow others to help carry my burden of faith and pain…and so my mom agreed to do just that… labor to rest.
There were so many things happening today, Tuesday, June 7th. So many roads colliding in my life. My mom told me I am an angry person and she wished I would not be so angry. She told me I am a talented writer and need to use it for God’s glory and not to destroy or devastate people, as I had done to her so many times… I usually get pissed off when she makes those kinds of comments, but today I was able to say what was in my heart without fear of rejection or denial. I explained to my mom that it was never my intent to devastate or destroy her, but rather share the pain of my heart. Apologized for hurting her and told her that in sharing my heart with her it came through a filter of pain and not attack. She told me specific things that had wounded her most by my words, very true things I had shared with her. I don’t really know if it was my speaking these things out in the open that wounded her the most, or the way in which I told her. She told me she understood and left it at that.
I read her some of my poetry, and began to read her John 14. More visitors came, and I left to give her some time. My sister and Tio Mike met me for lunch. He shared with us memories he had with my mom when they were kids. Kiara, my sister’s 2 year old daughter brought so much life, so much hope of the future. We went back to the hospital and my uncle spent one on one time with her, sharing his heart. My step-dad was setting up hospice at his house, so my sister and I just sat with her… talked with her… laughed with her. Her countenance lifted and she looked light-hearted, not so heavy hearted. She ate most of her meal; we took her for a walk around the hospital and massaged her hands and feet.
We talked about wounds and hurt and how it is real and affects relationships. How we all deal with hurt differently and that relationships deteriorate because of not understanding how that person deals with hurt or because they are protecting themselves from getting more hurt. There were so many things happening in the spirit that were changing and breaking and moving. Without even trying restoration was taking place, boundaries were being redrawn, hearts were being understood. My dad came back and my sister, Tio and I drove back home. I had been there most of the day and was emotionally tired… I am so thankful for my niece Trinity and nephew Skyler who are here for my kids, and I guess my kids are there for them too…
My husband, who is unemployed, trying to get this salsa business off and being the parent who is in the “life goes on” side of this, is running around registering Elijah for school, watching kids, doing laundry, dishes, and enduring the emotional trauma I bring. His heart is so for the things of God. How he interacts with God and my and the kids is shifting. If is a wonderful thing. Part of these roads all colliding in my life…
It is as if I am standing in an intersection on a road. Only there are not four roads leading there, there are more. One road is the journey of the healing of my soul, another is the transformation of my spirit, and another is the renewal of my mind. Then there is the business road, that looks pretty jacked up and broken; the financial road that is pretty bleak; the road of family; the road of marriage; the road of broken relationships; the road of healthy relationships; the road of pain and suffering; this new road of sorrow; the road of hope; the road of faith; the road of love…. All intersecting at one time, at the same place… I am bracing myself for what is to come when they all reach this intersection… I am hoping there is a reconciliation of myself, so that I can continue down just one road, that leads me away from this intersection, and that is the road of God’s promises…
So tired… I have been writing for an hour. My chest pains have subsided, my burden is lighter. Thank you all who help carry it. Your love and encouragement is a gift that I cherish.
June 8, 2011
Mom cried today...when the hospice nurse told her that watching her blood sugar was kinda pointless... I wanted to punch her and tell her to f-off... It is not pointless... so if she goes into a coma from high blood sugar, that is okay... urgh!!!
I told mom, that is does matter and I will watch it. She began to express some regret, which she had not earlier. She told my sister and me that she wished she spent more time with her grandkids... and was crying...
It was so eye opening to me... I realized at that moment that when I was angry at my mom for not showing up to events, it was not because I was a crazy, physco control freak... It was because I did not want her to have regrets... I did not want her to ever say the words she said today...
She cried herself to sleep... I hated to see that, but was thankful for her vulnerability to me...
Praise God for another day of life... I curse cancer in the name of Jesus and speak life into her pancreas, liver, lungs and limp nodes... Be healed in the name of Jesus mom... be healed...
My brother called me this morning and told me that my step dad was in hysterics and falling apart. My mom has not been eating or drinking and can’t sleep. The tumor has exploded in her body and all of her systems are shutting down. My brother told me that she probably has only one more week to live.
I cannot even begin to tell you the range of emotions I am feeling. I am angry and sad, hurt and confused... There are so many factors involved in my relationship with her and I am brokenhearted. I do not do sadness well... only anger... thanks to my "spiritual midwife" who pointed that out. I can control anger and so when I am sad or hurt, go there... I do not know how to be sad or hurt. I have been experiencing a lot of hurt these days and I am deeply emotionally jacked up. It is as if someone took the cap off the well and now everything I have controlled for all of these years is gushing out with uncontrollable intensity.
I love my mother deeply. I always have. I wish I was closer to her. I wish I could share my heart with her. Sigh
I am telling you these things because you are all close to me in some capacity. I need you to help me through this...in prayers, in words, in just being next to me. I do not know how to mourn; I do not know how to grieve. I am not sure what it will look like. So let me apologize ahead of time for any abnormal behavior I may exhibit in this process.
I am the strong one in my family... I have said for years... but am learning that this is not my identity. I don't know what my identity is, and is learning who I am in Christ. It is a process, and I might flip flop like a fish out of water in this place.
Please give me grace, please.
Monday, June 6th
So here it is... my heart open... it is easier for me to write this down for all to read, then talking to people... so if I am not answering your calls, it is because I am too tired and emotional to talk... You know me, I love to talk... but these days I am finding I would prefer to stay in my house, in my room listening to birds chirp, and watching the clouds go by. I feel like I am forgetting people, so if I added you to this conversation after my initial, it is only because I am overwhelmed, not because I do not love you or you are not valuable to me. My mom is frail. She is holding on for everyone else, I discern, to be sure to say their goodbyes and to talk about things that need to be talked about. She seems peaceful, ready to go. Not fighting it, not angry. I can't help but think of all the times my mom is going to miss... She is not going to see my son graduate from high school in three years. She will miss seeing my Noah play quarterback this year. She will not be at my daughter’s wedding. She will not see my sisters new baby.... pain... so much pain... she will not see her grandkids grow up. My sisters kids are 10 and under and my brothers kids are 4 and 2. MY youngest brother is not married and has no kids... She will not see my youngest brother get married... sigh... she won’t be there for my stepdad when his parents pass away, as she will go first. This is so wrong, so crazy... I want to scream and yell... I want to fast and pray and put sackcloth and ashes on my head until she is healed... My understanding of things is being tossed around in a tornado, causing havoc and grief... What the HELL... why... Even in the hardest moments with my mother, even in the most painful areas in my heart that my mother inflicted, there was still a love, still a hope I help onto for complete and total healing and restoration for our relationship so that we could laugh together and go to tea together and takes walks together... but now that hope is gone. I WILL have restoration, I do, even now... but I will not get to walk it out in this life. I will not get to feel her flesh and touch her hair... Then I think, am I giving up? Do I not have enough faith for her healing? Have I just surrendered to what my eyes see and not what my spirit hopes for? Is it her time? Or has her life been cut short? I do not know... All I can do is cry... I spend half the night crying... I can’t read my Bible, don’t say much to God. I felt as if I had crawled up on Gods lap, put my head on his chest and just cried....this is the worst feeling I have ever experienced in my life... My chest hurts, my head hurts, and my body aches with sorrow... My mom said all she wants prayer for is healing and NO pain...That God would take her physical pain away... If you could partner in prayer with me, I would be appreciative.
Wednesday, June 8th
4am...
Awake, feeling overwhelmed...my chest aches with pain...I have to make sure I breath in deep to counter the aches...it is from anxiety. I have had these pains before, been rushed to the hospital before in fear, only to be told I am suffering an anxiety attack... I don't really know where that is coming from. Is it the fear of mom dying? Is it the sadness that is too overwhelming? Is it sorrow?
Today I met with the hospice lady with my mom and step-dad. She explained things and I took notes. She talked to my mom about code status... I heard what she said but asked her to repeat herself many times. Finally my mom said," Teresa I am not going home on full code. If the worst happens, they will not recessitate." The hospice lady asked me IF I could do it. If, worst case scenario, and her body is not healed, could I watch her die and not panic. Could I just sit there with her and watch?
I did not fully process the question...Here I am, a daughter of the God who created the heavens and earth. The God who raised Jesus from the dead. The God who gave power to his son to heal the sick, give sight to the blind, and raise the dead. Could I just let my mom die at 57, never to fulfill the long life, I believe God intended us all to live?
My mom told me this morning that she believed God would heal her body, but now, as she is sitting in the hospital, she is beginning to doubt her own faith. Wondering, do I not have enough? I sat there in silence, not knowing how to assure her or comfort her, as I too am questioning my faith. Then, as if God picked her up from her seat and dropped her in the room, a friend of mine stopped by the hospital. I did not tell her where my mom was and had not talked to her much other than Facebook. She came in, with her comedy central personality and began to minister to my mom in a way I wish I could. She talked about the very thing my mom had just spoken of… It was divine and poetic. She reminded my mom of the verse that says we need to labor to rest… in other words it is hard work to just rest. She reminded my mom that she only needed a mustard seed of faith and God would do the rest. She told my mom not to worry about how much faith she has or does not have, but to just rest in the knowledge that so many others are fighting on her behalf. She gave the analogy of Moses fighting and fighting in faith, by raising his hands to the heavens until he was too weary to fight any more. It was at that point that people raised his hands to help carry his burden to win the battle. She assured her that there were so many more people raising her hands in faith and hope and life. Then she gave me permission to do the same. To allow others to help carry my burden of faith and pain…and so my mom agreed to do just that… labor to rest.
There were so many things happening today, Tuesday, June 7th. So many roads colliding in my life. My mom told me I am an angry person and she wished I would not be so angry. She told me I am a talented writer and need to use it for God’s glory and not to destroy or devastate people, as I had done to her so many times… I usually get pissed off when she makes those kinds of comments, but today I was able to say what was in my heart without fear of rejection or denial. I explained to my mom that it was never my intent to devastate or destroy her, but rather share the pain of my heart. Apologized for hurting her and told her that in sharing my heart with her it came through a filter of pain and not attack. She told me specific things that had wounded her most by my words, very true things I had shared with her. I don’t really know if it was my speaking these things out in the open that wounded her the most, or the way in which I told her. She told me she understood and left it at that.
I read her some of my poetry, and began to read her John 14. More visitors came, and I left to give her some time. My sister and Tio Mike met me for lunch. He shared with us memories he had with my mom when they were kids. Kiara, my sister’s 2 year old daughter brought so much life, so much hope of the future. We went back to the hospital and my uncle spent one on one time with her, sharing his heart. My step-dad was setting up hospice at his house, so my sister and I just sat with her… talked with her… laughed with her. Her countenance lifted and she looked light-hearted, not so heavy hearted. She ate most of her meal; we took her for a walk around the hospital and massaged her hands and feet.
We talked about wounds and hurt and how it is real and affects relationships. How we all deal with hurt differently and that relationships deteriorate because of not understanding how that person deals with hurt or because they are protecting themselves from getting more hurt. There were so many things happening in the spirit that were changing and breaking and moving. Without even trying restoration was taking place, boundaries were being redrawn, hearts were being understood. My dad came back and my sister, Tio and I drove back home. I had been there most of the day and was emotionally tired… I am so thankful for my niece Trinity and nephew Skyler who are here for my kids, and I guess my kids are there for them too…
My husband, who is unemployed, trying to get this salsa business off and being the parent who is in the “life goes on” side of this, is running around registering Elijah for school, watching kids, doing laundry, dishes, and enduring the emotional trauma I bring. His heart is so for the things of God. How he interacts with God and my and the kids is shifting. If is a wonderful thing. Part of these roads all colliding in my life…
It is as if I am standing in an intersection on a road. Only there are not four roads leading there, there are more. One road is the journey of the healing of my soul, another is the transformation of my spirit, and another is the renewal of my mind. Then there is the business road, that looks pretty jacked up and broken; the financial road that is pretty bleak; the road of family; the road of marriage; the road of broken relationships; the road of healthy relationships; the road of pain and suffering; this new road of sorrow; the road of hope; the road of faith; the road of love…. All intersecting at one time, at the same place… I am bracing myself for what is to come when they all reach this intersection… I am hoping there is a reconciliation of myself, so that I can continue down just one road, that leads me away from this intersection, and that is the road of God’s promises…
So tired… I have been writing for an hour. My chest pains have subsided, my burden is lighter. Thank you all who help carry it. Your love and encouragement is a gift that I cherish.
June 8, 2011
Mom cried today...when the hospice nurse told her that watching her blood sugar was kinda pointless... I wanted to punch her and tell her to f-off... It is not pointless... so if she goes into a coma from high blood sugar, that is okay... urgh!!!
I told mom, that is does matter and I will watch it. She began to express some regret, which she had not earlier. She told my sister and me that she wished she spent more time with her grandkids... and was crying...
It was so eye opening to me... I realized at that moment that when I was angry at my mom for not showing up to events, it was not because I was a crazy, physco control freak... It was because I did not want her to have regrets... I did not want her to ever say the words she said today...
She cried herself to sleep... I hated to see that, but was thankful for her vulnerability to me...
Praise God for another day of life... I curse cancer in the name of Jesus and speak life into her pancreas, liver, lungs and limp nodes... Be healed in the name of Jesus mom... be healed...
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