screaming in the bathroom

It has been a tough week in more ways than one. Tim and I went to my dad for wisdom more than either of us realized and now that he's gone, we find ourselves flumuxed (sp?) over who now? Who can we ask now? Dad knew a lot about a lot.

I'm not really into sighing over cyberspace, but it seems to fit here. Sigh.

Kicking this cold is taking longer than usual. Busy schedule and busy boys don't help, but that's life in fast lane.

My almost empty Nutella jar has become my new best friend. I am too "blah" to actually call a real friend, no one wants a Debbie Downer, thus the new bond with my sweet and always satisfying friend, Nutella. She may be sweet at the get-go, but somewhere along the line, she turns into a nasty, wicked little thing that hangs on for dear life when you really want to fit into your skinny jeans.

(side note: for the record, I DO NOT actually own skinny jeans. guess that's how I know I am getting older. i don't care how popular they are. they don't look good on most people. not caving on this one, folks.)

My hips can't take it anymore though, it's time to call in re-inforcements. Or is it? I am not very good at asking for help. Chances are, neither are you. Cussing isn't helping any, I've already tried that. And I gave up smoking. So what else ya got?

I can't go running back to my dirty little mistress, plus she's almost gone and I am not buying anymore (for the kids, of course) until she goes on sale again at Costco. Stress eating is over-rated. Not that it's stopped me, but hey, I'm trying.

So now what? As a mom and a wife, I set the tone in my home and want it to be a pleasing tone. Pleasing to my husband, when he comes home from work, and most of all, pleasing to the Lord. So what do I do when I'm in a funk?

Well, the other day, this is what worked for me.

"God! Have mercy on me, Son of David!!!" (literally SCREAMED from behind a locked bathroom door.)

This little prayer has kind of become my go-to prayer in recent years. It works well for me when I no longer have the words to pray, the patience to pray in tongues, or the grace to speak in a normal tone. If you're gonna be screaming in the bathroom, you need a prayer that's up to the task.

And you know what, God provides. When I prayed this the other day, I was overcome with peace. I'm not gonna lie, it didn't last for as long as I was hoping, but it did come.

Because He is faithful.

And He remembers that we are but dust.

Life is hard sometimes. It feels really hard right now. I don't really know why you want to read about my life that feels hard, but since you did, I pray you find some hope, especially if your life feels hard right now too.

I don't always feel the hope, but I know its there.

God can handle it when we are screaming in the bathroom, make no mistake. I'm frail. He knows I'm frail. And man, in those moments, I really KNOW I'm frail. I'm not proud of those moments, but they're real and they happen. And at least my God is big enough to handle them.

Be blessed.

1 year today.

Life goes on.

I'm sick. I caught the twins cold and we are currently hemorrhaging money from the duplex like it's our job. Oh, and my dad died 1 year ago, today.

(End complaining rant.)

Today is September 20th. First anniversary. Not sure how I feel about today. Mostly, it feels like life goes on, whether you want it to or not.

Went for a bike ride with my family this morning. Then we all ate some crepes and drank some coffee. They went to the shooting range and Tim and I are putting the boys down for a nap. We'l meet up later for dinner at the Olive Garden, Dad's favorite.

I feel like I should process. Or something. I feel like I am waiting for something. Like there should be a ceremonious something or other to commemorate...his death, I guess. Or his life. I don't know. Something. Whatever it is, it wouldn't be enough. So I guess its better that there's nothing. I don't know.

Since last September 20th, its been 365 days, 3 major holidays, 8 family birthdays and 1 year. All that we have experienced without Dad.

Grief is unlike anything I have ever experienced before, and it's different for everyone. I still feel like I need to remind myself that Dad is really, truly dead, that he's not coming back, that the last year hasn't been a dream. It seems so crazy to me that my life is still going on without him in it.

I was the one who discovered he had died. I had gotten childcare that week for Tuesday and Friday so that I could spend some time with him. When I showed up at hospice that Tuesday morning, he had just passed away in his sleep. Peacefully.

Funeral was Friday. At least I already had childcare lined up for the boys. My sweet boys.

Grief sneaks up on you and comes when you least expect it.

I started to try to process the significance of this day last night as I was falling asleep. As I tried to step into a place of grief, I felt a large, grey cloud closing in on me, pressing down and constricting, so I stopped. I don't care what today is, I can't go there, not right now. Still feels too fresh.

I am a pretty strong person, with a fair amount of self awareness, I think I'm pretty resilient.  I also have a strong faith in God. But again and again grief brings me to my knees as if I were a small, helpless child.

And that's what I am. A small, helpless child falling before the throne of grace, so much in need of what He has to offer. I have never been more aware of God's grace in my life.

I am frail and He is strong.

Praise be to God.

Time for a glass of wine and a nap.

So thankful he got to walk me down the aisle.

 

Build a bridge...

Had a much needed visit with a friend today. It was a nice, long visit. The kind that feeds your soul. And that's what I needed after the trauma of getting the boys out the door this morning.

There was weeping and gnashing of teeth.

The boys were crying too.

In my mind, she is a pioneer. She is wicked smart, thoughtful and very, very wise. She is also a fellow mom of twins. Her twins are 6 years older than mine, and she has survived.

There is hope for me yet.

I was deeply affirmed by our time together. How sweet it is to truly feel understood. How much of life is just about getting over feeling misunderstood? Its easy to feel that way because it's hard for us to understand things that we haven't experienced.

I think a lot of the work I have done in the past few years has had a lot to do with getting over feeling misunderstood. I bet lots of people still don't understand why Tim and I didn't go to Africa. I had to get over that. Its hard to understand parenting multiples from the outside looking in. Have to get over that too. In essence, I have to get over myself. What is motivating my desire to be understood by my friends and family. As long as God understands me, and He does, its all good.

Right?

But it isn't! I want to be understood and so do you.

Well, my friend understood me today so maybe it's time to build a bridge and get over it. :)

After all, since You CAN have it all I don't want to waste my time brooding over being misunderstood. There's too much to do.

Dork Alert

Planning is my primary source of defense. Instead of a wing and a prayer, my life can be summed up with a plan and a prayer. I don't like to be late, ever, and I love, no, I need, to plan. I've always been a planner, but since my sweet twins came along, it became an issue of life and death.

For realz.

I admit, that I insulate myself by planning, but hey, it could be worse.

And sometimes, its possible that I plan too much. But only sometimes, mind you.

Case in point, I have started planning Tim's 40th birthday celebration.

When is his big day? you ask.

March.

That's right, March.

So good news is, I have over 6 months.

Better get a move on!

I have been hitting Pinterest hard all night and I have some exciting plans up my sleeve.....stay tuned.

In other news, we had a very busy weekend filled with lots of duplex chaos, short and/or no naps, zero vegetables consumed, and more chaos. But everyone is now asleep and tomorrow is Makeover Monday.

Hopefully we will go back to eating vegetables and napping tomorrow. A mama can dream :)

Plan and a prayer people, emphasis on the prayer!

I see you

This past Father's Day was a weekend that I will never forget.

It was hard for many reasons. Not only was it the first Father's Day without my father, but a very dear friend of mine died that Friday night. I was standing in my kitchen with Tim, the boys, and my brother-in-law when I got the text.

I still get goose-bumps just thinking about it and I still can't bring myself to post about her passing. Somehow it just hasn't felt right. Her death affected my deeply and blogging about it doesn't feel like enough somehow.

The day after she died, some friends brought over a bunch of food for us. It was a haul. Burritos for Tim's lunch, a huge salad with loads of extra fresh herbs from their garden, a delicious dinner, and warm - yes, warm - rhubarb bread. Amazing. There was probably more, it was so much food. She had clearly been hard at work all day.

With the food, my dear (prayer warrior) friend included a note that I could read later on. I remember that it was typed, which still makes me smile. Her handwriting isn't that bad. :)

I tear up just thinking about it. The gist of the note was this.

I see you. This is your first Father's Day 

without your dad and your (our) friend just died. 

I see you. I see the pain and I see you.

Praise God for friends willing to be the hands and feet of Jesus.

We didn't need the food. It was timely and so helpful, but we didn't need it.

I needed that note. 

And I needed to feel seen by someone who knows what it is to suffer, someone who was suffering with me.

As I was remembering that weekend a few days ago, the Lord reminded me of this truth: that is always His note for us. He always sees us. Always. And he knows what it is to suffer. And He sees us when we suffer.

So now, every time I play "peek-a-boo I see you" with my boys, I will remember that God sees me.

And I will try to be more aware of who I need to see, of who I need to be hands and feet to in their suffering. Let's do it together!

Too Good not to Share!

Some good friends of ours recently got married (again). He's 

English so technically they got married in December, but the big 

party was this summer.

The wedding was on a Saturday. That Monday, his mum

was diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer. Sadly, due to that, 

his parents were not able to celebrate with us.

The wedding was beautiful and very fun, with a lovely bit of 

English flair!

Our friend is the only member of his family who walks with 

Jesus; so we had a lot to pray for concerning his mum.

Margaret died late last week. Thankfully, our friend was able to

get there just in time to say goodbye to her and tell her he loves her.

I am shaky on the specifics, but I do know that the Lord met 

with Margaret before she died. She shared with her sister that

she had peace, her pain was gone and she finally understood 

her son's faith.

PRAISE BE TO GOD!!! 

I stand in awe. He is never too late. Never. We grieve with

our friends, but once again, death has lost its sting.