What is this?

What is this? I don't really know, other then a continuation of my updates and writings that I was sharing previously on Caringbridge of this journey through cancer and now widowhood and single parenting.

Maybe it won't end up being anything at all, or maybe it will be a glimpse into my heart, my life, my current situation, my testimony.

Whatever it becomes, I am touched that you are interested.

Thursday, May 14, 2015

Miracle Moments

It's been a while.  Time has been hard to come by, as have words to describe this part of life.  I've tried to get just a quick update out with some pictures numerous times, but I've found nothing to say.

Where am I in this season?  I don't know.  Some days I don't cry, but those days are usually very long and exhausting days.  Other days I long for the time when Aria goes to bed so I can sit in my misery a little bit, if I even have the energy to do so.

I've been attending a Widow/Widower group at a non-profit grief support center.  I was initially discouraged by the fact that it's clear across Denver, about a half hour drive away.  I questioned God, "Why don't you ever bless me with proximity?!"  But I found after just one meeting that it was worth every minute and every mile.  My friend encouraged me to use that drive time intentionally.  I have some quiet time to myself, so why don't I make phone dates for that time? (Don't worry - I chat hands free.)  Another idea she had was to listen to audio books or sermons on the drive.  Now, I actually look forward to my drives across town.  I've drawn strength from various sermons, gained a better understanding of Grace and Heaven from numerous books, and have whined, cried, yelled and laughed in rare uninterrupted adult conversation on these weekly evening drives.  I never would have anticipated how God would use that time to minister to my heart so much.  A blessing in disguise.  

Then I arrive to a room full of others who are the remaining half of a whole.  Some as recent as just a month before - sitting there disoriented and shocked that they are indeed at a Widow(er)'s group.  Others 5-10 years out, now giving back to the place that held them up in their devastating loss.

Every time I pull up to the HeartLight Center I am still in disbelief that this place I feel so at home at is part of a Funeral Home.  I shake my head and repeat for probably the 20th time that day, "How did this happen?  How did this actually happen?"

But once inside I'm greeted by those who know the pain and loneliness I'm feeling.  There is something amazing that happens when a room of 25 people can share the raw unedited emotions of bereavement, the thoughts that seem truly crazy and the ridiculous things we find ourselves now doing, and almost every head in the circle is nods in agreement.  Though it feels like it, we are not alone, and I am so thankful for that.

I've also been attending GriefShare, a 13 week program hosted all over the nation.  This week part of the topic was on "Miracle Moments". "A miracle moment is when God's presence suddenly appears and is so profound that it changes your perspective. - Zig Ziglar"

I feel I have been blessed to have had many of these throughout this journey.  Truly it is what has been getting me through.  Since Tuesday's meeting I have been asking God to give me a Miracle Moment.  I have kept my mind open, but I wasn't finding anything.  I was frustrated and just feeling deflated and so far from Brandon.

Then after Aria went to bed I was drawn to my office where I felt ready to listen to a CD I found while organizing my office earlier this week.  A CD of songs Brandon had made for me when we were dating.  

How the heck this turned up is honestly beyond me.  It moved with us from Pennsylvania to Texas and then relocated 4 times within Colorado, and yet it was in a box in my office closet.  Not in the crawl space with all that useless crap that has remained unopened since it was sealed and loaded in a Uhaul 10 years ago, but in the only box in the closet.  And I have no recollection of seeing this CD since Brandon gave it to me in college.  But there it was.

I listened to the songs lightly as I looked back on pictures of us, leaning into my grief.  But suddenly I was attune to just a couple lyrics:

'I'm gonna be here for you from now on,
This you know somehow.
You've been stretched to the limits but it's alright now.
And I'm gonna make you a promise
If there's life after this,
I'm gonna be there to meet you with a warm, wet kiss.'

(Keith Urban - Making Memories of Us)

The tears flowed freely.  Sadness.  Heartache.  Disbelief.  Anger.  Resolution.  Hope.  Gratefulness.

I got my Miracle Moment.  God reminded me that our love and our lives are eternal, and Brandon is eagerly awaiting that moment, just as I am.  I needed that, and it felt almost as if Brandon had said it directly to me.  I believe God knew when Brandon made that CD for me 10 years ago that I would need to hear exactly that tonight.  And somehow that CD found it's way into my hands just when I needed it.  And tonight I will be grateful for that.

1 comment:

  1. Thank you for sharing your journey with all of us! Continuing to lift you up in prayer and believing for many more miracle moments in your life.

    Mary Ann Perry


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