Good Grief is RIGHT

If I haven't said "Good Grief" a million times this week I've said it 2 million.  Our family of 4 is currently getting in to the swing of summer.  Some "good grief" moments are as follows:  staying up till after midnight, waking up at 11, yes i said 11-yep almost 44 years old and i can still sleep like a teenager-definitely a good grief moment.  The amount of food 3 children can eat.  The mess that 3 children can make and the amount of trash a family of 4 can produce.  The amount of laundry there is, the times one mother can say put your wet bathing suits on the side of the tub, and yet still find them in a wet pile on the floor.  The times one 6 year old can say "Mom, Mommy, mother, deedee." The amount of times i have to tell them to wait for the sunscreen to dry and the amount of times i have to tell them to not jump close to the edge of the pool.  The amount of times this mom has said 'don't talk to me when I am ordering in the drive-thru' or 'turn the tv down none of us are that hard of hearing.' The times i have told my oldest to slow-down on the 4-wheeler, and turn the x-box off so the others can watch Good Luck Charlie.  The times I have to say "I tried to tell you."  The times this mom sinks into myself and wants to wrap her young ones into her arms and whisper, "I am sorry that God chose this path for us. I'm sorry that your young lives have been tainted by cancer, by death, by evil."  That may just be the biggest "good grief" moment for me.
Had an incident happen this week that made me realize that this mama is still harboring some major anger over the plot that is our lives.  Not sure who or what this mama is angry at but know that it will be dealt with much prayer, and work.   So this week a "good grief" moment is when I am in a heap of tears saying to several in my life..."Its not right, he needs his daddy."  Yes, the man-child that is 5 inches shy of 6 ft, deep voiced, shaving son of mine needs his daddy and I am one pissed mama.  I am beginning to see some things in his life that have been damaged hopefully not beyond repair.  Just a few... confidence, motivation, stability.  Some pretty big issues for a man-child.  This age is so unsettled anyway plus take away these things and its just disastrous.  My heart hurts for all of my 3 and the loss they have endured but most for J.  He is the one that had the longest relationship with his daddy, his daddy was his everything, the one he waited for daily to arrive home.  The one he constantly took shelter under his daddy's arm and on his daddy's chest every weekend of the "camp-outs."   The one that had his daddy always coaching him on and off the field.  The one that spent endless hours just daddy and son outside while the others were too little.  I knew that this would probably have the most negative effect on him, he was a mere 10 when he witnessed the one he saw as strength grow weaker and weaker.  He was a mere 10 when he awoke to his mom telling him his daddy was gone.  He was a mere 10 when he took his place behind his daddy's casket to walk out of his daddy's service and a mere 10 when he helped carry his daddy's casket to his grave.  10, TEN, X.  The boy has lived a life time in just a few short years.  They all have, but for a child trying to manage to find his place in the world, for one who is still a child in a young man's body, for a boy that gave up his passion because his daddy was not longer there to help coach him on the diamond. A boy that lost all confidence in who is is.  For a boy that chooses video games and music to escape...losing your daddy sucks.  No other word to explain it.

This week when I realized my anger I had some time with just him, about the only time he will actually talk to me is when we are alone.  13 is HARD!!!! I asked him if he thought he was still angry about his daddy passing.  His reply, "No mom, its just life, I know I will see him again.  I am angry at some things that daddy had worked out for us that hasn't worked out though."  My boy carries the weight of the world on his almost 6 ft shoulders.  He would never let on but I think he worries about the well-being of our family of 4. His daddy not knowing how this child would take to heart these words, whispered to him one day between labored breaths- "buddy, you will be the man of the house- take care of mama and Sam and molly." I've come to the realization that on the days he is most disrespectful to me, the days I mark it up to hormones, it may not be hormones at all.  It may be that he is mad at me, because i was the one that was left to raise them.  Maybe he sometimes wonders why it wasn't me instead of his daddy.  A boy, after all, needs his daddy.

I've also "good griefed" myself to death thinking i have totally dropped the ball with him, that I have failed him miserably the past few years, not only him but the other 2 as well.  That I haven't been the mom I needed to be which makes me angry yet again.  If I wasn't having to do this on my own, maybe I could be the mom I was intended and desire to be.  Instead, I am frazzled, drained, short-tempered, and I let things slide.  Now, I am seeing the fruits of my frazzled ball dropping.  I had someone tell me that God obviously thought I could do this, for He chose me to be the single-mom of three.  I beg to differ on most days.  I have so many times thrown my hands up in the shower and cried, "I can't do this! Why have you chose this for me?"  Was also reminded this week I am doing the best I can do, but Ive realized it hasn't been good enough for my 3.  I haven't pushed them to be and do their best, I haven't motivated them. But how does one do that for a child that has experienced maybe the worst thing a child can go through...losing a parent?!!  I've let things slide because I thought they'd been through too much, especially the oldest. I still think they all have, and I continually ask for a break for all of them and for me.  I know things happen in their lives to mark out and shape them into the men and the woman that God intends for them to be.  But I have to wonder how much they can take before totally rebelling against the ONE who loves them.  Needless to say, you can see why I have "GOOD GRIEFED" my fool self to death.

These 3 are my true blessings in life and I certainly don't want to mess up what God has loaned to me.  My prayer is for God to equip me in the "good grief" moments, to equip me to be the best mom I can be in the situation we are in and  to help me guide my 3 to make good choices, to help me motivate them to be all they can be and most importantly to help me show them Jesus in our day to day living.  The anger will eventually subside, the hurt never will, but I know God knows our hearts and will continue to navigate our lives.  I pray the other 2 learn from their brother and I and that all these "good grief" moments will propel them into God's strong, unwavering arms.  That their adversities, trials and sufferings will make them men/woman of GOD, that they will use their life story to direct others to HIM.  In the meantime, some prayers for the Richardson's are always appreciated.  Raising a teenage boy without a strong hand and some male hormones around is gonna be tough.  GOOD GRIEF!!!!!!!

Galatians 6:2

Three years? Three years! Three years. Still can't believe it's been three years. I have to say this third year has been harder to swallow than the last two. Not really sure why, can't put my finger on the why of it. Struggled some today and a few days prior and sure I will a few days in the future. You would think that after 3 years the hurt would be a bit duller, the memories not so vivid. However, three years still feels a bit raw.
I gave the kids the option to stay out of school today, more for me than for them. I have found and find extreme comfort with them around. Thinking its because each of them remind me of their daddy in a different way. S&M chose to stay out but J wanted to keep things normal and go to school. He is at the age where he is finding more comfort with his friends than with his mom, whole other blog. I woke him up this morning as any other day and when he came downstairs he asked about what time I told them that early Saturday morning, we remembered some together. He remembered details I didn't and vice versa. He remembered who was still here after all the early morning happenings, I still remember the surrealness and numbness. I told someone today how I felt like I was floating for several days and now that I look back I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that is when my Father was carrying me. How sweet to know He loves and cares for me so much that He carried me for days.  He is still carrying me. Today I have been reminded of how wonderful it was three years ago to see the hands and feet of Christ through so many that loved us. I've seen it again today through text, emails, phone calls and comments on Facebook. We are truly blessed to have so many to love us, to pray for us and think about us. Totally getting to live out Galatians 6:2 today as we did three years ago. I remember using this verse in the countless thank you notes I wrote. Seeing the body of Christ in action continues to amaze and challenge me to carry others burdens as others have carried mine.

I'm extremely blessed to be a part of a Wednesday morning bible study. Can't tell you how much strength I draw from our time together, digging deep into His Word, worshipping, praying and fellowship with these dynamic ladies. I picture these ladies carrying me on my mat to Jesus and dropping me down through the roof straight to Him. So many times they've prayed for me, with me when I didn't have the words, energy or desire. So many times have i heard words flow out of the mouth of our leader straight from my Father directed at me, feeding me, quenching my thirst for what my spirit needed. Today was no different. Since I had S&M home with me I chose not to go today, I truly hate missing but knew I could rejoin next week. When I was getting out of the shower Sam brought in a gift bag and said my neighbor that goes to same bible study said to give it to me and to give me a kiss from her. I looked at the bag, swallowed hard. On the outside was a verse from "His eye is on the Sparrow," ironically enough, a  song that Shane requested from a lady with an angelic voice that came to sing for him just a week before he died. There was a card that was signed by most of these women, with sweet words of encouragement, love and understanding. I buckled-knowing once again they had my back, knowing I truly am loved by my sisters in Christ, knowing they continue to carry my burdens. Then I pulled out of the gift bag a beautiful glass cardinal, buckling once again, tears of joy, sadness, overwhelming tears knowing I am loved. Not only by God but by these women that have been placed in my life for a reason. This cardinal is significant, significant because its a symbol of such a sweet "God wink." I thought I had blogged about it, but I'm tired and don't feel like looking for it, sorry. Anyway, that Saturday, April 3rd was a very long day, as much as I was "floating" and as tired as I was I knew sleep was not going to come easy that night. Especially since less then 24 hours ago I had witnessed the man I loved take his last breath in our bedroom, in our bed. I knew thoughts were going to be whirling, and knew the tears would be plenty. I remember sitting on the bed asking God to give me peace and help me sleep. It was 10 o'clock. My sisters were staying again for comforts sake, sleeping downstairs. At 10:00, right after I prayed that prayer a cardinal began singing right outside my bedroom window. If you know cardinals they have a distinct song. I still remember smiling. Immediately I remember texting Tracey asking if she heard that thinking I was finally losing it. Nope, she confirmed it and remember her word was "weird." I laid down and had the most peaceful, restful sleep sans whirling thoughts or tears. I'm  Not one that needs signs and wonders but love it when God gives me a clear signal that He is with me. So as I find the most perfect place for my cardinal I will remember His love and the love He has provided me through some very special ladies that continue to "carry each others burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ." Gal. 6:2 Thanks to all that have prayed, and continue to pray---carrying our burdens and showing us Christs love. Brings me comfort, wonderful peace and unexplainable joy.

Sunday's Coming!

Thankful for a great Holy Saturday, despite the fact that when I woke up this morning I remembered the unthinkable, unimaginable, heartbreaking task I had to do 3 years ago on this day before Easter. The one thing I hadn't prepared myself for was telling my kids that that day they wouldn't be waking up and seeing their daddy. I remember well, walking downstairs and crawling onto the blow up mattress with them hoping they wouldn't wake up just yet. I had lots of time to play out in my mind what I would say to each of them during the time I curled up with them just before daylight, while still feeling as if I were dreaming.  I still wasn't prepared. I know they woke up one by one, so I told each of them one at a time. I remember even little 3 year old Molly repeating over and over "daddy's with Jesus." Still didn't sound real as many times as she said it.  We discussed things that happened overnight, some things to intimate to share and some things I still haven't shared with my 3, but in time I will. I remember thinking before they each woke up that it would be nice if we all could just go back to sleep and either not wake up or wake up to it all being a very bad dream.  I know that children are given devastating news everyday...but these were my children. The 3 that I would do just about anything to protect their hearts from hurt. But this one thing I couldn't protect them from. I remember thinking how am I suppose to even function today, tomorrow or the next day or days after. I remember thinking how can I do this alone. I remember thinking the Easter bunny still has to come, we still have to be thankful for Jesus' resurrection-more so now. I still wanted to worship my Savior somehow. We did on a mountainside, at an Easter evening service. Sunday still came.

Fast forward to this Saturday-we've come a long way. We've made it through several Easters now, still praising God for His wonderful gift...Jesus! It's because of that gift that we have made it this for. While I hated telling my children about the death of their daddy-I love knowing that they all know how they will one day spend eternity with him and better ---with Jesus! They all know that He died for each of us so that we may live. They all know the sacrifices He made out of love for us. They love Him and have learned  through adversity, pain, suffering. Me?? I'm still learning too. Daily. Hourly. So as I rushed them to bed tonight I was thankful for the lessons hardship has brought us, thankful that I can one day explain just what the love of Jesus did for us in 3 years, 6 years, 12 years. How even as I watched them sleep, 3 years ago, with the dread of them waking up to the news I had to share-I knew Sunday was coming, Resurrection Sunday, and how much hope that Sunday brought and how much hope this Sunday still brings. Sunday's Coming-thank God Almighty!!

Happy Easter

March 23rd



Holy Week! Love love this time of year. Love the building up of all the happenings to the greatest sacrifice ever made for me. Better yet--next Sunday we celebrate our RISEN SAVIOR!!!  I've loved Christmas all of my life, but later in life, as my walk with Christ has broadened & strengthened, Easter is what it's all about to me as a Christian. It's so exciting every year to be reminded and to celebrate our Saviors sacrifice, His death and His resurrection. My kids have grown to love it as much-not the whole Easter bunny, eggs thing but we love being reminded when we do things like our resurrection garden or our resurrection bread. The garden is a visual of a tomb waiting for Jesus, and Friday as we cover the tomb, reflecting on what He did for us and Sunday the stone being rolled away-all the while seeing the 3 crosses. Rejoice!!!! We've been watching the mini-series The Bible for the past few weeks-what a great time with my 3. They are so excited that we are now watching Jesus' life, leading up to His resurrection, this week, Holy Week. The boys have been telling me what will happen next-what joy that brings this mama that her 10 & 13 year old have these stories deep in their heart. Love it when the 3 of them see the angels fighting and they all say, " bet that's what my daddy is training to do." Makes me smile. Holy Week and Easter took a new meaning 3 years ago. I was able to experience God's love like never before. I literally basked in His grace and mercy, dependent on both to get me through another day, another hour, waiting on a miracle, a healing. I continue to bask in that same grace and mercy even though things didn't turn out as I'd hoped and prayed. However, I was given the absolute certainty that God's love for me is perfect, even when circumstances don't always seem perfect. I was given answers to questions I've had since becoming a believe about suffering, death and faced a fear of losing someone I loved. I was given comfort in knowing that Shane truly loved God, truly trusted Him even though unsure of the outcome. What comfort that brought me then and now, 3 years later.

Ironically, 3 years ago today, after receiving devastating news, I was shown how Shane's trust and love for God would give him and me strength for the next few weeks...until God received his spirit on April 3.  I was looking back at some journal entries from that time.

Written Mar 23, 2010 2:38pm

Lots of things have transpired since my last post. I will spare some of the details but for most of you that don't already know here goes. Shane was admitted to the hospital last Wed for some complications that we thought were due to some pain medicine. In making sure this was the cause he had a CT scan performed on Thu morning. In the meantime we had received a text from our oncologist saying that Emory had said no to IL2, we had already felt that it would turn out that way, we or they not truly convinced that it was indeed a melanoma. So Shane was told that he could start his 2 new chemo drugs Friday or Monday, which ever one he chose. We were extremely comfortable with that. Feeling when we were on chemo that we were being proactive and getting closer to beating this cancer. We, along with most, assumed that there would be nothing really to show on the CT scan. However, as most of you have seen, that is not the way it has been since October. We had waited on the doctor to come in and he did about 4, I had walked out of the bathroom and he motioned for me to come over, patted the chair, and said lets talk. As I type this I get the same sensation all over my body as I did that day-hot, burning, sweaty sensation. I knew to my very core that things were not good. Shane and I were told that the complication that he was having in his belly was in fact the stinking cancer. In its cancerly fashion it had spread and invaded his small intestine. It was causing a blockage in his intestine. Not only that, his original tumor has continued to grow and the horrible disease has started invading the sac around his heart. This was shocking to us and I think to the doctors. None of us had any idea that this cancer was sooooo aggressive. Ironically, the doctor said he hardly ever saw a cancer metastasize to the small intestines, really the only one he ever sees do this is...melanoma. We were told that we could continue to do chemo if we wanted, but to do so would probably be just palliative care, meaning it would just be for pain management, etc. The doctor suggested focusing on quality of life now, and suggested calling hospice. As recalling that day and those words, I get physically sick all over again. Put yourself in our shoes. That is words you only hear on Lifetime movies. You don't hear these words at 38 and 40 years old with 3 kids under 10! What????? Luckily, Shane knows the doctor and it was a blessing that he was extremely compassionate. While the doctor was still there I look over at Shane, trying to hold back tears and say "I am so sorry Shane," he, in true Shane fashion said, "No, I am sorry for you, I get to go to Glory." The doctor left us with our thoughts and tears. I crawled in the bed with my husband of almost 14 years and wept like I have never wept before. God hears every moan and cry but He didn't have to listen very hard last Thu, they were audible all over the hospital I am sure. We had some time together and then Shane wanted OUT of the hospital, he wanted to be home. Then we had the daunting task of sharing this with our parents and children. Shane decided that we would focus on the quality of our time, and that does not include vomiting from chemo and running to and from doctors appointments. So right now we are focusing on keeping him pain free and comfortable. I will never know this side of heaven the "why" in all of this. I know there are so many of you that will never understand it either. At the same time, I know that my God is a bigger God than this stinking cancer and that He CAN heal Shane. If God chose to heal Shane now, there would be no question on Who or What healed him. There would be no doubt that it was His healing power, no chemo, no medicine, not anything but the healing hand of our Father. So, although the news seems bleak, I am asking you to please keep praying for that miracle. Most of you, like me, have never really witnessed a true miracle of healing. I know that they happen and would love to experience one right now. I'm not sure how God determines exactly who to heal in the flesh, but I am still praying that Shane would be one of those that He does choose to heal in the flesh. Shane has so much more he wants to do for the Kingdom but at the same time knows that whatever the outcome, God WILL receive the Glory. I feel like some of you are saying "oh, poor DeAnn, she must be in denial, still praying for that miracle." I can tell you, no, I am not in denial, I am seeing Shane's health deteriorate in front of my eyes, I don't like leaving his side, I don't like going to sleep at night, I don't want another tomorrow without him, and I can't fathom raising these 3 children without their daddy so, no, I am not living in denial, I am living in Faith. Faith that God, if He so chooses, can heal every stinking tumor in Shane's body as fast at they came into his body. I also have the faith that God's plan is sovereign, whether I like the outcome or not, God's plan is perfect for Shane, me, Jake, Sam and Molly. I was recently reminded that right now Shane and I are in our Garden of Gethsemane. We are asking God to take this cup of suffering away but at the same time we are saying "your Will not mine" but oh how hard that is for me right now. I want Shane here as my husband, my best friend, and the father of my children but also want God's will to be done, so that He will be glorified. Jesus, the very Son of God, asked God, while he was in Gethsemane, if there was any other way for Him to be glorified and I, a child of that same God,i s asking Him right now, isn't there another way for You to be glorified, any other way than this??? I am asking you to please pray those big prayers of healing, pray for that miracle we have all been waiting to witness, pray for peace to surround Shane, myself and the children and pray that God receives ALL the glory no matter what. We thank you all for all the prayers, thus far, and for your continued prayers. We feel your love, we feel your prayers so please don't stop now. So let us come BOLDLY to the throne of our gracious God. There we will receive his mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it most. Hebrews 4:16

Always nice to see where I was, where I am, and have reminders of Gods provision then and now.  When I read the words I wrote on March 23, 2010 I still get the sick feeling all over again. The difference??? I know the outcome. I know the victory! I know the beginning, the middle and the other beginning of this story-Shane's story and mine. I also know the past chapters, and know the upcoming chapters of mine and my childrens life story will continue to be blessed according to God's perfect plans for all of us.  Best part...through it all I have been able to experience so much of HIM. For that I am forever grateful, forever changed, and more in love with my Savior than I was 3 years ago. I'm also reminded that I will have that same victory as Shane---"I get to go to Glory." Can't wait.  Enjoy your Holy Week, take time to reflect on Gods love for you.

Remembering the Cross!!!

Dancing with my Daddy

Guest blogger-The possible thoughts of Miss Molly Richardson-age 6

My mom just received a text message that the deadline for tickets to the Daddy Daughter dance was this Thursday. Oh how I'd love to dress up and go...with my daddy. I was asked to go last year by my daddy's best friend and his daughter. It was fun, except for the whole tornado thing and the fact that I felt like every one there probably noticed that I was there with someone else's daddy. I have a few questions about the whole Daddy Daughter dance fad. First, kinda stinks that this event became REALLY popular about the time that my daddy went home. My mom says that they NEVER had anything like this when she was little. I hear my mom talking about how she doesn't like them. I know she's really happy for all the little/big girls that get to go with their daddy's. I hear her say she wished they had these dances when she was growing up and how it's good for daddy's to have special time with their little girls. I hear her say my daddy would have LOVED getting dressed up  to take me to dinner and to dance the night away. She tells me how daddy would have been the first one to electric slide, Cupid shuffle at the dance. I hear her say how he would have had more fun than any daddy there. I also hear her say it stinks that there are some little girls, like me, that aren't privileged enough to have a daddy here, available to take their little girls to a dance just for daddy's and daughters. I've heard her say how she knows its good for daughters and daddy's need that time but it just seems to draw attention to the little girls that are unlucky, to not have a daddy. No matter if its death, divorce, or just an absent dad-it stinks for those. While its sweet when I have offers to go with other men in my life, there's just not a replacement for my daddy. I hope that these little girls that are getting to have a date with their daddy's know how lucky they are. Hope they never take a second for granted. Hope they always appreciate when their dads are at their dance recitals, ballgames, appreciate when their dad gets to kiss them and tuck them into bed. Hope they always appreciate when they want their daddy to push them in a swing -he is there to do just that. Hope they appreciate when it's time to take the walk down a long aisle to meet their soon-to-be husband that its their daddy that is holding their arm. Saying all this so that you can remind your daughters to appreciate their dads. I still know I'm a very blessed little girl--I had an awesome, love filled 3 years with my daddy. I am blessed because God gave me a wonderful ability to remember things about my daddy. I can remember how he would swing me for a long time, how he would put me on his shoulders facing him and dance with me then flip me backwards. I remember him being sick and being home with me and watching Snow White over and over and he never complained. I remember his nickname for me-lil curl. I remember how he loved me like a daddy should love his baby girl. My mom tells me how many times he covered me with kisses.

Just the other day on the way home from school, after a few dads eating lunch with friends, I said to mom, "I sure miss having a daddy." My mom, in  her wise way, reminded me that I do have a daddy---he is just lucky to be LIVING in heaven. She also told me that I have a Father in Heaven that loves me more than any daddy on earth ever could. So while I'm very thankful for all the men in my life that fill in for my daddy-I take the most comfort in knowing my Father has a special love for those that are fatherless. I am happy knowing that not only will i have endless daddy/daughter dances one day in heaven, I will be able to one day dance for and with my Father that loves me more than any daddy can. So for this year I have chosen to sit this dance out and hang out with my big bros instead. Got a feeling my mom will dance with me at home...she's a better dancer than dad anyway:) Daughters--enjoy your daddy's-dont take a single second for granted.
http://m.youtube.com/watch?feature=related&v=NHOPK9thphc

"Something"

Through my growth as a Chriatian I've often asked why I just never had the gift of dicernment. I would often feel frustrated when I would hear someone say the Lord will tell you what to do, or when I would hear someone say I waited for the Lord to guide me. I've often said I wished that I had lived in Old Testament times so that God would appear to me or I could hear His audible voice, give me burning bushes, clouds, etc. so that I would know, without a doubt, what He was leading me to do. Unfortunately, when seeking guidance from Him-I'm left wondering if He is guiding me or is it me. I'm left wondering if that 'still small voice' is really Him or is it what I think I want to hear. I've always been a little, what some would call-"wishy washy" in my decision making. One minute I've made a decision and the next I change my mind. I've realized that when seeking God I tend to be the same way. One moment I feel very sure what He is guiding me to do and then the  enemy makes me question if it's right. In my growth I am learning to wait---wait on the Lord. I've learned to stand still, and wait on the Lord (Ps37:7). It's not easy, never easy being still or waiting. Patience isn't my strong suit. I'm also learning that He supplies peace during the waiting Isaiah 26:3. When I want to hurry up and act I've learned to feel His strong hand on my shoulder, holding me back. And when I grow tired of waiting on Him and a direction or an answer He gives me strength to continue to wait on Him Isaiah 40:28-31. Through this same journey I am currently learning to listen. I was explaining to a friend how I knew a certain situation just wasn't right, that something was telling me to watch out. I was telling her this and she started laughing and said, "Girl, you know what that something is." she went on to tell me about a guest her church had hosted. A "comedian" that was talking about the names of God. How he said there was another name for God---SOMETHING. He explained how people will say-something was telling me not to do that. Well, that SOMETHING is God. I've come  to realize and be thankful for SOMETHiNG. Call it gut instinct, intuition, SOMEThiNG, whatever--but I will call it answers from my Father. I'm thankful that I'm growing enough in my Christian walk to recognize the something's, for what they really are. He may not be audible or burning bushes for me-but He is guiding my ways, protecting me, giving me dicerement, those same gifts that use to frustrate me when I would hear others speak of them. It wasn't that He wasn't giving me discernment-it was that I was choosing not to be still and know Him and listen.  I was acting and relying on me-now I've learned to wait on Him. Yes  there will still be times that i rely on me more than Him, that i wont be still and wont listen-but there will always be that SOMETHING, my sweet Holy Spirit, that reminds me, teaches me to wait, listen & seek. Again, and again He makes things crystal clear. I'm thankful that this time it seems He wrote things out on the wall that decisions I've made are the right ones.  His promptings, guidance and answers may not be easy or what i want but He knows whats best-so i will just trust and abide in His love for me. Now ain't that SOmETHinG?!?!

Piece by piece

Can't believe it's Thanksgiving already. Definitely one of my most favorite holidays. Minus the stress of Christmas, I get lots of no rushed time with family, good food and money doesn't have to leave my pocket. This year is no different----except the flu has hit our family. My dad was diagnosed yesterday, Miss M started running a temp today-so all the festivities are iffy. Not the first time Thanksgiving has been questionable---remembering 3 years ago. Shane & I were spending the night in the hospital after a lung biopsy, chest tube removal and a very heavy diagnosis. Things were bleak. I remember praying that we could just be home for Thanksgiving-we came home the day before. Shane's last Thanksgiving was spent at home in pain, in question, he did have his sweet bro-in-laws passing the time with him and we had Thanksgiving dinner delivered to us. Not the best, but we were together,& kids were happy with Mimi, Poppee, aunts & cousins. I remember wishing the day away, wishing many days away. Why is it that when we are in the middle of something we are constantly seeking a way out?  Why is it we fail to relish  where we are when we are in it? Why didn't I soak up everything about that Thanksgiving day 3 years ago? No, had no idea it would be our last together, as a family, but why didn't I appreciate every second? I can't remember our conversations, the weather, what I was thankful for at the time. Makes me want to start absorbing every second of every day-good or bad. Whether I am home with sick kids, or if I'm sick, on this Thanksgiving day I want to soak it all in and every day after. I want to make sure I write down and store away in my heart all the simple things, the big things, the smells, the weather. I want to remember years from now that me and my 3 watched the sweetest movie *tonight. One about faith, Gods plan for our lives even when our lives are not perfect. I want to remember the tears I cried at some of the most touching words that were said. How we laughed together watching. I want to remember how the kids have continually brought up the fact that their daddy's birthday is tomorrow, how they remember how old he would be, how we did and would celebrate. I want to relish the fact that one of the gifts Shane gave my 3 was the fact that while most kids their age are really afraid to talk about end times and their potential deaths-that mine look forward to it in a non-creepy kind of way, but a sweet faithful way. J and I were talking about the happenings in Israel and he grinned and said,"good, means I get to meet Jesus sooner than I thought and I get to see daddy again." During the same conversation Sam said,"I'm a little afraid to die but I'm excited to meet God and see daddy." These are the conversations I want to absorb, store away for later times. I want to absorb their laughter, their smiles, their smells. I wish I had known then what I know now before Shane passed-I would have paid more attention, soaked more in. Lesson learned---don't take one second for granted. While watching the movie tonight the narrator said  something so poignant that I had to rewind and listen again...

"when someone you love dies, you don't lose them all at once, you lose them in pieces..."  Joe from Simon Birch.

 It's true. Slowly, over time, their smell disappears, the smells that you once took for granted, their habits, their coughs, sneezes--little things. You have to  really think about their laugh, their smile. Slowly, piece by piece, you lose them with each day that passes. Normal process, hurtful, but not as painful as losing them all at once. I've recognized, however, that piece by piece becomes a little bit easier with time as well along with pain. Thankful that God gave me pieces to hang on to and the strength to deal with the ones that slowly disappear. I really have to recollect the pain of that Thanksgiving day 3 years ago. The pain may never cease but the pain becomes less.

Tomorrow-Shane's 41st earthly birthday will be spent remembering him and all the pieces that we haven't lost yet. This Thanksgiving, flu, no flu, with or without turkey & dressing, I plan on relishing every second with the ones I love, being thankful for all the good and bad in life-knowing that, like Simon Birch said in the movie tonight and how Gods word promises-its all in His plan, even in November-3 years later.

Happiest of Birthdays Shaner-still miss you- 3 years later.



Happiest of Thanksgivings to all-soak it all in- piece by piece- and I'm not talking about your meal!


*Simon Birch