Failure and the Mountain

Ever feel like a failure?

Ever feel like most of the rest of you has experienced great accomplishments but this one part of you can't seem to make it over the mountain?

No matter what gear you use or how well you think you've prepared, that mountain remains the one obstacle you cannot get over.  No matter what you do.

It's disheartening, really.

To have such an obstacle in front of you, knowing in every other area of your life you have overcome.  You have overcome some ugly sins against you.  Sins that should have taken your life had it not been for an all loving God.  By His grace I was saved from unsuccessful suicide attempts, advancing self-injurious behavior, drinking escalating no matter where I was and mental illness.

I held down jobs because I am smart.  Very smart.  Low genius smart but nevertheless genius.  No college education.  Technology came easy to me.  Still does.

Disabled because of my diagnosis.  Can't think straight most of the time.  Genius reduced to greatest secret ever hidden.  Don't like being smart.  Very smart.

Especially when facing failure and the mountain.

A Funeral and A Kleenex Box - Pt 2

When I received Ann's email, about the passing of her husband, I felt a heaviness on my shoulders and a lump in my spirit.  It wasn't because it was a surprise.  It was because the pain she and their family had been watching him live through was over.  I felt very sad for the grief she was about to go through.


I sat for a moment and considered my options for which service to attend.  The wake or the funeral.  I decided the funeral.  Most wakes I've been to have been crowded and you don't really have any one on one time with the grieving person you came to see.  Other times, I've sat quietly in a chair where my friend can look over and make eye contact with me.  I've been told that's brought them a lot of comfort.


Since my friend and I don't share an everyday friendship, she's been emailing me for prayer, which I am humbled to do every time she asks.  You might know this yourself - when you are praying on behalf of someone you love, the Holy Spirit brings that person to mind and often times prays for them on your behalf.  There's a closeness that happens - you are drawn together in Him.


Here's my response to her husband passing away:

Oh, dear.

I was sensing he wasn't doing well.

I'm so sad for your loss, Ann.

I plan on being there Saturday.

I'm asking God to carry you through the next few days as you are greeting people who love you and Artie.  I'm asking God to give you the emotional and mental strength you'll need for those times when you need it.  Lastly, I'm asking God to whisper His love for you when you lay your head down to sleep, when your thoughts are memories and your tears are tender love.

Hugs and Kleenex,

Amy

She responded by saying:

Thanks. I think we need a ton of Kleenex and that's a very good thing. 


I had boat loads of anxiety before going to the funeral and worked through it:
I'm fat - I can't do anything about that today.
I don't have anything to wear - wear what's comfortable (jeans, jean shirt, take Aaron with me - Aaron's shoes & earrings)
I'll ask my sister to go with me - unfortunately she had to work
Don't go early - Get to the funeral at 11:00 so as to avoid crowd mingling
Don't go into church where everyone else is seated for service - stay in foyer
Bring a card and a pretty box of Kleenex with a note "To Ann  With Love Amy"
Wait until the end when his casket is taken away in the hearse.  If it's meant to be that I see her, God will make the way.
Don't be nervous.  Be comforting and bring God's peace to her.


And that's exactly what happened. 


We were able to have some private words.
I thanked God for keeping me in check.
I felt good about being able to function under duress.
I hold loosely to this friendship.
She is well loved by many.


Lord, whatever Ann needs, whoever can serve her the best, that's what I want for her.
Amen

A Funeral and A Kleenex Box - Pt 1

I've written before about a high school teacher whose friendship and guidance saved me from committing suicide.  She was my freshman General Business teacher and each year after I had her for at least one class.  She would meet with me after school when she was in charge of detention.  We would write to each other and she'd help me through some tough stuff.


During the past thirty years, we've managed to keep in touch though not as much as I would have liked.  She and her husband own property up by my mom's and as it turns out both of us would wonder if the other were up there at the same time.  I missed seeing her, talking to her and listening to how she was doing.  Come to find out she was less than a forty minute drive from me.


On  Nov 3, 2014, I was surprised to receive an email from her stating, "My husband needs huge health prayers.  I'll tell you more later.  Thanks sooo much.  I know you're great with it."


About a week before she sent the email they found a large brain tumor.  She kept me posted. They found out it was the most aggressive kind.  He went through radiation, chemotherapy and everything they could.  I tried to stay in touch with her, praying for her, for him, for the entire family, the awfulness of the cancer and anything that God put into my head.  She'd chat with me from time to time just to have some normalcy.  I could hear in her writing the weight she was carrying so I kept the small talk small and did not wander off into deep or unnecessary issues.


For the month of November, I sent an email every week.  Words of encouragement, reminders of self-care and reassurance that what she's doing is okay.  And then our communication naturally stopped.  She sent a note at Christmas.  When my bout with depression was so low at the beginning of the year and a few months into it, I sent an email to her in March checking in.  I'd been having a sense that her husband was dying.  I was already praying for them.  When I didn't hear anything back from her, I checked the internet to see if he had passed.  He hadn't.  I continued to pray as often as I could realizing I was now dealing with my depression and the upcoming five year anniversary of my nephew's death.  It was a lot to manage.


This past week is when I received her response to that email.  Her husband passed away last Sunday evening.  She gave me the arrangements and thanked me for the continued prayers and support.  It's helped them through this "stinking stuff."
I will share with you how difficult it was to work through a bucket load of anxiety and many other emotions.


But that's for tomorrow.

More Grief

Don't you wish it was that easy?  To title a blog and announce your grief was through then really be done?   But it's not that easy, is it?

More tears fell even though I wanted them finished.  In fact, lots more of them fell.  Grief has no time table.  I know this.  I know this like I know my birth date.  Yet every year I try to control this unrelenting sadness that stabs my heart and emotions in ways that are new and puzzling.

Why can't they be neatly stored in a ziploc bag and some of them dumped out each year with no more added in?  Why can't they be the same emotions, the same levels of emotions and the same longevity of the grieving process?  Why can't we be robots where grief is concerned?

For me, it would be easier.

Yes, it would be.  It wouldn't sideswipe me and cause me to zone out in order to regain composure.  While listening to someone talk my eyes wouldn't start to water and I'd have to fake a yawn.  In therapy when talking about it I wouldn't feel that heavy lump in my chest, like I can't breathe, then carry on a conversation.  When I'm by myself and my thoughts turn toward the person I'm grieving, I cry and in doing so, I have a conversation with them and maybe with God, too.

I guess that doesn't sound so bad, does it?

It feels heavy, sharp pains, wet tears.

It feels like grief.

Aaron Michael - Putting This Year To Rest

I'm putting 2015's grief to rest by sharing the videos I and others made in memory of him.

They remind me of how much he was loved through the music and pictures we used.

Even though Aaron will never be with us on this earth, we hold him close in our heart.

Step-mom, Tina made this one

I made this one