Month: November 2017

This certainly won’t be all-inclusive, but as I reflected on how life has changed since the death of my husband 10 years ago (as well as my brother a short time after that) it felt important to translate some of the emotion and history into tangible words. Here is my attempt to share a bit of knowledge from the pain of my experience of the grief journey.

You can be happy again: I distinctly remember hearing some dang country western love song after Paul’s death and having this fear hit me-what if I’m never happy again?! I was so blessed to have been loved and share life with a man and give birth to our daughter, but what if it’s just more pain and sadness from here?! I’m so grateful that slowly as my heart began to heal (although not before more tragic loss), I would have glimmers of a new and stronger hope. A hope that wasn’t of this world, but one that was beyond my ability to fathom before I knew such pain.

I was also incredibly blessed to be loved by another man. Bryson brought fun and laughter into my life and then two little boys to share even more love and laughter with. Walking into the restaurant with just Syd and me on the night of the 10 year anniversary of my husband’s death I had this thought, “What if… What if I wouldn’t have been remarried? What if it had remained just me and Syd?”

While I would have still been blessed and had good, it was so wonderful to come home from that shared meal with Sydney to a husband who was playful and joking. Also to two little boys who are “too loud” as they read Dinosaur Dig with me on my lap. My heart and my blessings are overflowing… even though for a while it felt as if only the pain would keep me company. There is life after loss. Thank you, God for revealing more blessing after the storm that shook me to my core.

It’s ok to be happy again and not cling to the status of being the bereaved. Going through intense grief, it consumed all of who I was. I had previously identified myself as Paul’s wife and a new mom to Sydney. When my husband died, I didn’t know who I was any longer… in time I began to see myself as Paul’s widow.

I recall making sure to tell people that I was widowed because as a single mom I would spend time wondering what others thought about me. I am blessed to have a new foundation that isn’t constantly changing now. I know that each one of us are a Beloved Child of God. That’s my identity. That’s your identity. Regardless of what we have, what others say about us, or what we do. I have to remind myself of this true identity often, but it is so steady in comparison to these other ways of trying to find a way to be ok in the world. I could only cling to this truth because the foundation I clung to before had crumbled. I only wanted something more because I couldn’t have the comfort of finding my identity as a wife any longer.

You will forever be changed: Now I have the wisdom of 10 years of the grief journey, but there was no way in those early days I could see much of the silver lining. For me, the path to finding joy again was marked with deep sorrow, buckets of tears, and even more untimely loss when my brother Cole also died a few short months later.

How does 10 years go by? How have we lived all this time, and their time on earth just ended? It seems unfair in ways… not for them since I know they don’t carry the pain of this world any longer… just unfair for those who long to be with them again… For my daughter, Sydney who was 5 ½ months old when her dad left this world. She didn’t get to choose… and neither did he. His time on earth was through… and we were left to keep finding a way forward. I questioned God so much over the course of this journey. I was hurting and wanting answers and the answer for me was always His promise that He would “take care of me.” I would lash out with “why this had to happen,” but in time it was this promise that sustained me and help me know who I was in a deeper and more important way.

You will understand other’s pain in ways you just couldn’t before: I remember going through a grief group and looking at the therapist and asking, “how can you do this work?!” Five years later I would take up the professional role of a counselor… Once we’ve traveled our own journey of pain, we can not only appreciate other people’s journey in new ways, but we can be a light in their darkness, even without words. Just by the reality that we’ve survived such darkness of our own. You don’t need to be a counselor or in any profession to live this, your light shines when you’ve discovered you can survive trials.

There is a core belief for me that the only way out is through. I know through sucks, but so does staying in the yuck. I show up as a professional and in my personal life because it’s so important people can find a ray of hope as they continue to find a way through the rubble of whatever heartaches they are facing.

While I’d never ask for the pain of grief, I wouldn’t want to be the person I was before grief… before my husband’s death… before my brother’s death: Grief has changed me. I don’t get to be the naïve young woman who was widowed at 25 years old any longer. For this I am grateful. I perhaps am drawn to those who know their brokenness. We are all broken in our own way. For those who are humble and able to recognize the broken pieces, or perhaps like me couldn’t find any way not to see them, You are LOVED! We don’t have to BE, DO, or HAVE anything. We just simply get to be loved.

When we release the grip on making ourselves be somebody, and instead embrace that we have had this Belovedness all along…we find ourselves letting go of all these things we used to have to hold ourselves up with… and now can instead be embraced. With love, grace, and more love. At times we can just allow ourselves to cry and be held. All this is a gift. A gift that only comes, however with the “gift” of brokenness. Thank you, Paul for loving me and thank you God for breaking me. Use me. Through You I am restored and can bring a message of true hope. You give life. I am loved and You will continue to take care of me.

I’m not in control-there’s freedom in letting go and living one day at a time, but you’ll likely never know unless you are forced to live in this way.

Intense grief still happens. My grief journey has drastically transformed over the years. However, there are still times of the year that I can anticipate grief will again visit me more pronounced than it generally is after years of healing. Hitting year 10 seemed big to me. I looked at my daughter and had discussions and shared tears. She’s able to comprehend in new ways what she doesn’t have since her biological father left this world. I grieve that she only gets to know about him from others and doesn’t have personal memories of interactions with him.

These times of more intense grief do not mean I’m somehow “getting it wrong.” It simply means when someone we love leaves this world, we will long for them. Another thing I learned from my personal journey in counseling is that we hurt so much because we loved so much. It sucks to hurt so deeply, but I would have never wanted to miss out on the love I had with Paul and the beautiful daughter I was blessed with because of our time together.

I am grateful. It’s an odd thing to say maybe, but again I wouldn’t want to be the person I was before Paul died. I am grateful that he chose to love me. I’m grateful that I get to embrace his and my daughter still. I am grateful that I was given another chance to share love again and have two more rambunctious and wonderful boys. I’m grateful for life. With its pain and its joys it has taught me so much. I only hope the pain I endured can bless another on their broken road to healing.

Blessings and prayers to you wherever you find yourself in your journey today.

~MM

I am currently in New Zealand finishing up the student teaching portion of my degree… Last week we had what is called Water Wise at the school I am placed at. Students head down to the beach and from there they are able to learn how to kayak and sail. Volunteers supervise the activity and help teach students. A staff member from the school was in charge of taking out one of the motor boats and asked me to come with him so I agreed. He is very knowledgeable on sailing so we spent most of our time helping students get comfortable operating their sail boats out on the water. We just finished helping two students in their sail boat when he saw another one of our sail boats too close to the jagged shore line, which meant they were too close to the rocks. We sped over to them determined to tow them away from shore. We pulled up next to their sail boat and the staff member told me to grab on to the sail boat so that he could pull them out of the rocks, but it was too late. Due to the powerful waves, we got too close to the rocks too. The sailboat (as well as our own boat) had waves crashing over the edge and into the boat. The two girls in the sailboat started to panic and yelled out, “We are capsizing!” I was still holding onto their boat so I said, “Take some deep breaths, you are ok, I’ve got you, it’s going to be alright.” (Even though I wasn’t sure that it would be, I was hopeful it would be alright). The staff member I was with killed the motor. He jumped out of our boat and grabbed onto the sailboat. He told me to jump out of the motor boat and hold onto it. The water was up to my chest and me being “South Dakota prepared” for the ocean, was borrowing a wet suit and life jacket, and had no water shoes with me. He started to walk the sailboat diagonally towards the sandy portion of the beach while walking them further out in the water. He told me to walk our motor boat the same direction and warned me that there will be sharp rocks. My first thought was that my feet were going to be destroyed by the large, sharp rocks below. I looked out towards the ocean before I started off and knew I needed to pray. As I started to take steps forward I prayed for God to provide spots for me to step. I could not see anything below and I had no idea what to expect so I repeated that prayer over and over. The thought hit me that this is what it feels like to walk by faith. Here I am blindly walking in the ocean while pushing our boat, and trusting God to provide places for me to step. As I walked I came upon large rocks that I had to step up and over and other rough, uneven areas below. I had the thought come to my mind to change my prayer. I asked God to guide my steps, and the moment I said that prayer I was mid-step, and when my foot touched the ground below it was sand. I had made it through the rough bottom. I couldn’t help but be amazed. After we got to a safe place where we could let the students go out on their own again, we jumped back into our boat and I looked down at my feet. After the trek we made, I literally had one tiny scrape on the inside of my heel that wasn’t even an inch long and quite superficial. I just had to smile and thank God.

2 Corinthians 5:7 For we walk by faith, not by sight.

#walkbyfaith #guidemysteps #trustinHim

~HJ

Zig Ziglar challenges us in his statement, “There is no elevator to success. You have to take the stairs.” We are captured by a good transformation story. Whether that transformation is one of external appearances of a person or thing, or most powerful… a person who finds internal healing from heartache. When we observe powerful change take place in another person, we may not be able to name exactly what has changed, but we know they are somehow different than before.

There is something captivating about change… and of course something incredibly terrifying. The fear of change invites us to cling to what feels “safe” or what is known. However, as the cliché goes, “to get something you’ve never had, you have to do something you’ve never done.” If you desire change and have set out on your own transformation journey, you may quickly discover challenges that are specific to your healing path.

When we choose to (or perhaps are forced to) embark on our own personal journey of change or healing, we often very quickly learn that incredible transformation takes incredible dedication. In the grueling moments of the transformation journey we are faced with decision after decision to:

• dig deep and find a way to push through when we want to give up
• rest and then rededicate ourselves to the journey of healing
• or to give into the temptation to stop the fight and stay at the point of progress/defeat we are at in those moments

Facing defeat and pushing through to find a new way can give us opportunities to discover the beautiful parts of our transformation story, but they also take the most intense courage and work.

What is your transformation story? What parts of you threaten to hold you back and keep you from healing? Know that it takes a strong person to reach out for help as you decide to “take the stairs” and not sit around to wait for an easy path. Discover people who can walk with you as you navigate your journey to recovery.

~MM

It can feel safe to “blend into the crowd.” However, when we try to fit in and not get noticed, we often aren’t honoring ourselves or those we are in relationship with either. It can be scary to try something new and different. Just like a baby taking their first steps, we may be scared wondering if we will fall, and when we do, how much it may hurt.

Whether the new thing we are wanting to do includes:

• speaking up in conversation
• applying for the school you want
• changing jobs
• having a family
• traveling to somewhere you’ve never been
• reaching out to a friend/pastor/counselor for help when we are encountering problems in life
• beginning a relationship or distancing from an unhealthy relationship

…or perhaps many other possibilities, it may feel overwhelming to commit to a big goal.

Taking that first step is one of the most difficult parts of the journey. We often feel pressure (internally and/or externally) to have success instantly, or within a determined time frame.

When you feel overwhelmed, reduce the pressure and anxiety by breaking down new tasks into smaller steps.  Then we can focus on the next step instead of having to take all the steps toward that successful goal at once. When we find the courage to take the first step, we can build confidence to take the next step, and/or learn from that step (regardless if we are successful or unsuccessful).

With the courage to take one step at a time, we can shift the way we move through the world. We can slowly nurture and develop the gifts we carry with us. We can also relieve the pressure of having to get everything right, but instead invite grace into our journey. As we pay attention to our strengths and opportunities for additional growth without harsh judgment, we are freed up to achieve more and recognize that we can find a way. We just never know what may be lying on the other side of that first step. Don’t let fear block out your unique opportunity to live and impact those around you!

~MM

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