Today, Here. Tomorrow – Gone.

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There have been so many impact-full deaths lately. What a stupid line huh? Impact-full… Death is impact-full. It makes its permanent mark on the people that were influenced in some way by the deceased. David Bowie, what a shocker. Alan Rickman (Snape) from Harry Potter, stop it I can’t take it anymore. Founder of the Eagles, Glen Frey. I am still impacted from Robin William’s death.
I took a look around me, there is a woman whom I work at the same company with who lost her son over the Christmas Break. He was 22 or about to be. I see her uplifting and encouraging words on facebook, and it reminds me of how we reacted when Dakota died. We were the encourage-rs and many people have said to me, you were such examples of Christ. Your strength is amazing. Your obedience is… etc. Truth is, they were seeing the Holy Spirit moving through us. We were wrapped in his strength and we were comforted so we could comfort. When you are filled with something, you give that away. When you give it away you are filled with it again. That is biblical. Its a shitty club that we; affected by death; belong to. But I am encouraged by the encouraged. What breaks my heart and makes me reflect my own inner pain is when there is a parent that is hopeless or has no hope. They feel empty and lonely. That is so sad to me. No, life is not a party now that our cherished are gone and the pain of the absence of their immediate presence doesn’t go away or fade with time. They were here, they will always have an affect on us. It is how we press into God that gives us the motivation and hope for a successful and fruitful day. It is the love that we have for ourselves and for others that depend on us, that we call on God daily to “come pick us up for work” so to speak.

People have said to me or questioned, how is it that we are in fact that strong. That we could even lay this kind of grief at God’s feet. I have surmised that some people hold onto their grief, they are afraid to let it go because if they let the sting of their grief subside would mean that they didn’t love that person enough, and its just not true. My answer is because I know where my daughter is. There is not a question in my heart and my mind. She had a personal relationship with Jesus. She had a disease that took her life from us too early.
People always say that suicide is selfish. Some of my sons that are still angry and I myself have said it. Selfish in the fact that we do not get to have the privilege of their presence in our lives anymore, yes. Selfish that their actions caused us this unrelenting pain and agony, yes. And grief and has changed us and our lives into something we didn’t ask to become or we aren’t sure we like.We don’t like that we are forced daily to miss someone we love and should be here with us, yes. All suicides are different. Some are planned, some are depressed, some are impulsive. All though, agonize.All want whatever is going on to stop. It has taken me three and a half years of non stop praying for God to reveal that to me and for me to accept that as the answer.
I have a friend who has horrible psoriasis. She said that there is nothing that any of the doctors or the specialists can do to alleviate it or stop it. It burns, it itches and its is from the inside of her body out… Her hands look horrible. They look like someone has held them under boiling water and the skin is just peeling back. She told me that it gets so bad that she could go into her garage and cut both of her hands off just so that she could sleep.
Not all of our diseases are on the outside. It doesn’t stop the family and close friends from wondering what they could have done. It doesn’t stop people from being mad at the person. I am mad at my father for dying from a failed attempt at emergency quad bypass surgery on his heart. It is my opinion that he could have taken better care of himself. He essentially didn’t care about himself enough, got sick and died. The breakdown of your body over years of blaten abuse is a long version of suicide if you ask me. There is a girl that I knew, we were not close but in the same circles from time to time. She died of an overdose on heroine and crack. She has two eight year old twins. I know her mother is pissed that she left these two little boys. I know that she is angry that she allowed drugs to take over her life.
There is the cancer patient, the car crash, the poor diet, the murdered, the old age, the still birth, the broken and suicidal.
Death is inevitable. We all feel wronged by someone or something when someone that has impacted us is no longer with us physically on earth.
If my dad died in a car accident, would I still be angry with him? I am sure I would find an excuse. How is it that I am angry at my father who chose to eat badly and not exercise, yet I can forgive my daughter who took her own life at my house while her brothers were home? I don’t know. I can’t answer that. Maybe because my dad was older and he should have known better? Maybe its because the way my family changed after his death? Maybe because I have compassion for my daughter the way a mother has when her child is injured and now is in complete peace and health.
I can’t answer it. I will however continue to be encouraging to all that encounter what we feel is untimely, the abrupt absence in a much loved person.
Celebrate life, today is a gift. Tell your mom you love her. Tell others how they have impacted you today instead of wishing you had, tomorrow.

I Wear It

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Wheat field at sunset
I wear it.

It’s waiting for me every morning when I rise. It is staring at me like an old friend, waiting for our day to start together. Sometimes it is so eager to see me that it hovers atop me and is the first thing that I focus on when I open my eyes. Sometimes I can feel the weight of its presence even before my eyes open. Most days I wake hoping that it is not there. Not that it is delayed or late, but that maybe it took a vacation, moved away, or was supernaturally destroyed in the night. Without fail, there it is. And I put it on, wearing it for another day.

It looks like.

It appears mostly invisible. It doesn’t typically show in my eyes or my face. If you had never met me, you would not know I was wearing it. It looks like a glance shared between someone close when the subject is brought up. In public it is very well behaved. In private, on those highly active days, it looks like, carving a turkey with your emotional heart in its place. It looks like crocodile tears and an ugly cry face. It looks like unbelief, unbearable pain and hyperventilation.

It acts like.

It urges memories to appear in the surface of my conscience. The details that are sacred now, that brings my focus back to it. Mostly it lingers. There are small and gentle nudges. Little pangs of hurt, followed by small rushes of want, desire and yearn. First the light tingles tempt me into gazing upon memories of late – something I remember makes me smile because I experience amazing moments when there was much warmth around my heart. It builds on those moments; one by one they pass in front of me; and I smile and remember what it was like to be in her presence. One by one, they pass until they are gathered together and have collected enough steam. The moment it has me alone it pounces on me and pulls the bottom floor from underneath me. I am reminded that the one that helped create those magical moments is gone and it will be a very long “time” before I see her again.

It feels like.

At times it is heavy. It is always taking up residence in my heart, kicking it softly. Other times it reaches up into my throat and takes hold. It punches me unexpectedly in the stomach and takes my breath away and I physically gasp for the air to return into my lungs. It will open the door to my emotional room and empty me of the pressure that has risen inside, for if it did not, I would lose myself in it. It is not always bad and I do not resent it. Greif helps me relieve and heal. If it did not love me, it would not show up every day to traverse through small pieces at a time. It will always be with me, this lifelong friend knows that it gets weaker every day it is with me, making me stronger. It has a mission and it will fulfill it to the end.

The alternative is to become numb and I refuse to die.

To grieve is to live; love, endure pain, feel the sting of sadness and the bliss in joy – finish.

To become numb in the world is to perish.

Reset Me

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I am about to start an innovative program and I am thrilled to get moving forward with this.
I want to share with you, the vision I see for this new journey.

If you have read in my other posts, my weight is primarily an effect by my exhausted adrenal glands. I have adrenal issues because of the emotional stress and deep grief of losing my daughter to suicide, ultimately. I was on my way to increased adrenal issues with just my ordinary life.

Because we were foster parents, we were under the careful watchful eye of social workers and therapists. Then of course there were the issues my daughter had that brought other social workers, therapists, and the courts. My ex who would stir up trouble for the sport of it was an extreme case. We were also ministry leaders in a pressured environment. I was volunteering in too many places and trying to launch a new business at the same time. No wonder everything came crashing down, it had to. When it did I had no concept of how to manage the life I had built for myself.

Clear thoughts would not come for many months. I needed to run on just robotic type movements. Things in my life would ultimately have to be discarded and now I am re-writing them.

Looking to this new journey – with every pound that comes off, in record time, it will be like victory over the new changes that I want for our lives. Everything we do is with passion now. Everything is a purpose that we actively pursue. At the end of this journey, I will be 20 – 40 pounds lighter. I will be cleansed of any desire for alcohol or bad foods. I will be more health conscience and will be tons healthier. I will fit into clothes that I haven’t worn in years. I will have more options; I will also be able to lose weight with exercise. I will be reset.

Reset – I need that. I want to be reset from years of things that I don’t want to hold on to anymore. Reset, I want to give the bag of sadness for the loss of my dad, and grandparents. I want to give up the hurt that I experienced from my mom and brother while they were hurting. I want to give up all the things that have ever come out of my mouth that was ugly. I want to give up the memories of what kids have said about me when I was in school, when I first realized that people were mean just because. I want to erase the knowledge of cruelty and prejudice. I want to give up all the things that have shaped me into a bitter, tried, worn, tired, short tempered, quick to fight person.

Reset – reset my metabolism and set weight. Reset my mind. Reset my emotions. Reset my thought patterns. Reset my spiritual fervor. Reset me.

You can view my weight loss blog at http://www.mybigfatissues.wordpress.com

Fighting the battle with Insanity

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I am on this journey of healing. One of the ways that I need to heal is to stop the destructive habits in my life. Stop allowing things to happen to me and start taking responsibility where I can. One of those ways is my physical health. My husband and I and maybe a kid or two are starting “Insanity” – the work out training program by beachbody.com – makers of P90X. I thought it was fitting that we start and end this program, and we can tell everyone we are victorious over insanity. Bad joke… maybe. But that’s how I cope.

Start day May 15th. I have my fit test tomorrow.

How I am preparing for this –
Mentally and prayerfully.

I know me and I know the dear people that I have put in my life as accountability partners. We will let each other down. We will let each other off the hook. The one thing that my husband and I do is be tolerant of what the other does, because we don’t want to be hypocrites when we do it.

Mentally I am doing a couple of things. I am preparing myself to eat healthy energy producing foods. I am thinking more about how I will look when this is all done. That visualization helps me but down that beer. Or chocolate cake. Or donut, etc.

I have a visual on how I envision my end results. That is not necessarily in 60 days. But that 60 days will jump start me into a habit of excellence and endurance. This will help with my spiritual endurance. I will be stronger mentally, physically and spiritually.

Spiritually – I am asking God’s help and guidance. I need to depend on him being the strongest thoughts and motivation in my mind – in my heart and in my soul; Only God can penetrate those components of me. I need him to be so loud as a trainer that I cannot hear anything except for his encouraging voice.

Are you a visual thinker? I am – Here is a story to sum up my quest for healing.

Jesus is in a white Pistons Jersey outfit with a sweat band around his head and a sweat towel in his hand, ready to assist and becoming excited and motivational. Leaping from side to side like a boxing manager, as I grow more intense and motivated.

What is the Goliath if I am David? I ask myself.

Goliath is the old me, He is the big ugly hairy old habits. He is the exasperation at the end of the day, he is the boredom in my life, he is the sadness I let speak loud, he is the bad eating habits, he is the excuses, he is the pain in the body, he is the negatives that never let me change, he is the spirit of ill-motivation, he is gluttony, he is failure, he is doubt, he is all the negativity in my life that I can control.

What will his punches look like? He will come at me with excuses, I will counter act with a left hook of enthusiasm. He will strike at me with the concentration of a sore and tired body. I will come back in with a jab of renewed strength at the beginning of my day. He will bring up memories that will kick me in the chest and stomach, and I will feel the weight and the measure of that blow. But I can hear my coach in my corner, and he is screaming to me “come on! Get up! Fight! You can do this, you got this.”

The blows are going to hurt, and when I am hunched over he is going to come in and blast me in the head with doubt, regret, bitterness, anger, confusion and numbness. As my body twists sideways and slams to the mat, my head nearly missing the corner pole by centimeters, my eyes catch my family’s eyes. Everyone is there. Everyone. They are all staring at me in horror; they wish that they could do something. There is one that I connect with most intently. She has the expression of peace, not worry like my boys, husband and friends. She looks like she is staring right through to my soul. I am penetrated by her presence. It’s almost like her watching and being a part of this is a small glimpse of encouragement, or power. I feel like there may be a glimmer of hope. I keep staring at her, not knowing if my body is going to be able to take the blows, feeling broken in all parts of who I am. My eyes never stop connecting with hers. I can faintly hear my coach yelling at me to get up.

He thinks I can do this? Didn’t he just see me fall? Why does he think that I am strong enough for this? Doesn’t he see the look on my families face? They know I am defeated, I can see it on their faces. Only one doesn’t have the look of dread and worry on her face. I again lock eyes with hers, she mouths the words ”I am ok, Get up! You can do this! Don’t let them beat you. Don’t let them defeat you. I am with you.” At this I feel encouraged. I feel a surge of healing flow throughout my body. I feel strong.

I get back up, I am in the fight. This is a battle that people are going to remember and talk about for ages to come. I am listening to my coach and I am following all his words. Everything that my opponent throws at me, I dodge. I feel like I have lightening strength. I start to get a little cocky and kind of throw some of my own blows in there instead of just blocking. I think, it’s time for me to start doing some of my own damage.

I start to tune out my coach’s voice to concentrate on what I want to do in this fight, and that’s when it happened. I took a great hit with my own self centered move. I was knocked to my knees and immediately searched for her. My heart yearned to see her, to touch her. My vision got blurred and I could not see anything clearly. I started to panic. I called out, where are you? And Just as my opponent came to give me a hell staggering blow, the bell rang.

I made it to my corner. I knew coach was going to give it to me, he said nothing. He just cleaned up my wounds. I looked at him, waiting for him to speak. He didn’t. I said I am sorry. Please, say something. I asked him, do you believe in me. That got his attention, he looked at me and said “Do you believe in me?” With that he sprayed me in the face with my water bottle. I was appalled, and somewhat in shock. That was cold ice water. Why would he be so mad as to throw water in my face?

I stood up and I felt like rushing waters. I had a renewed strength. I closely listened to my coach, every word. What he was doing was keeping my footing, and we were wearing down my opponent. When the coach said it was time, I threw a punch to his stomach of truth, I kept my footing, he could see I was ready to defend and strike. I got three great strikes to his chest with righteousness. He tried to come at me and I blocked him with faith. This gave me the upper hand, to nail him in the head with a fistful of the salvation that was given to me. What took him out is when I used the sword and said:
Philippians 4:8 Finally brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worth of praise, let you mind dwell on these things.
James 4:7 So humble yourselves before God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.
Mathew 4:10 Jesus said to him, “Away from me, Satan! For it is written: ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve him only.'”

At this, the opponent was defeated. It was declared a Knock Out! My coach ran into the ring and hoisted my high on his shoulders. He was so proud. He was so delighted, he was not upset at all the mistakes I had made, it was as if I had done everything exactly like he wanted me to. I was astonished.

When the fight was over, I searched the room for her. I received the hugs and well wishes from friends and family, but I was hoping to see her there. I turned around and coach was standing there. He knew what my thoughts were. He said, I gave you a gift, a glimpse so that you would be strong, you wouldn’t listen to just my words alone. You gotta learn to trust me. I said, I promise, I will never doubt you again.

This is just the first fight of many, the coach said. This by far is the worst. Your first fight usually is. You will go on to fight many battles and you will be with me when the last mighty battle is fought. You will prove to be a force to be reckoned with. Your importance on that day – on that battle field is important. It is exactly why you were created. All of these battles, all of these fights, all of these experiences are creating you to be the perfect weapon that I will need with me on the great day.

Like a solider going off to war in a far off land, when he comes home, he is reunited with his family. So shall you. Keep fighting, keep fighting through all of the battles, and fight your way home. Guard your heart, keep your guard up, and always wear the full armor I gave to you. You have to journey across this land until you have learned these things of this place. Take heed, I say again, Guard your heart. Your home coming will be most amazing.

What ails at your heart, turn into fierce power and passion for what we stand for. Desire my path more than anything – it will get you home. And on the great day of battle, the two of you will be fighting side by side and alongside all the great warriors since the creation of this age.

I nodded, and I started off for the locker room. I passed by a mirror. I had to do a double take, the reflection was a little off. I could have sworn it looked like Jesus when I passed by. I thought about it for a second and realized I have so much to learn. Then I laughed because I was grateful at how much I knew.

This story is a parallel of the struggles we have and how our physical, spiritual and mental battles are intertwined within each other. It is about becoming healthy physically, mentally and spiritually. It is the foundation of my healing journey and moving forward. The perspective of an inner fight that we all face. It is about the victory that each of us has in Christ – if we choose to embrace it.

*The girl of encouragement in this story is of course the daughter I lost in 2012 to suicide.
If you want to follow my journey to becoming physically healthy you can subscribe to my other blog http://www.mybigfatissues.wordpress.com

Christian songs and my fights with God

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I love Christian songs, even more these days because I put my life against them in comparison. I do this to see how much the song relates to me and my experiences. These days I am going deeper, when I hear a song that I can relate a life experience with, I think about the details of that life experience and sometimes feel compelled to write about them.

This is a dangerous song – one that should not be sang lightly because it has a catchy beat – if you mutter these words, you had better be prepared to hold on tight for the roller coaster ride you are about to get buckled into. Signing this song is as dangerous, if not more dangerous then praying the prayer, “God not my will but your will be done”.

The song, Keep making me.

The words…
Make me broken… So I can be healed…’Cause I’m so calloused…And now I can’t feel…I want to run to You…With heart wide open…Make me broken

Make me empty…So I can be filled…’Cause I’m still holding…Onto my will…And I’m completed…When you are with me…Make me empty

Make me lonely…So I can be Yours…’Til I want no one…More than You, Lord…’Cause in the darkness…I know You will hold me…Make me lonely

[Chorus:]
‘Til You are my one desire…’Til You are my one true love…’Til You are my breath, my everything…Lord, please keep making me

My fights with God.
Because of my deep rooted faith in who He is and what I know because of Him, I stand and stood on the promises he gives. I buried into him for strength and resolve. He made it bearable to get through (going through). Yet – I will be transparent in telling you that because He is my best friend, He knowing this was all going to go down, felt like I had been betrayed.

You know how you feel when someone you love knows something about you – or about serious news and doesn’t say anything – it’s a betrayal. That was my fight with God. Knowing and accepting He loves me and is there, but feeling ultimately betrayed because He created me and my life and gave me my children, and my whole existence, He knew I would endure this. That pissed me off. It hurt. I have asked him several times in tear filled anguish – why, why me? Why us?

Maybe it’s because He knew we would be obedient, maybe a family needed to see how we traversed through it (are). Maybe it was pure testimony that others needed to witness, that you can take such an awful ugly thing and with God, you will walk through it. You will not be destroyed. No matter how bad Satan tries to attack you in this.

I will not be moved
This is a victory song that I can sing at my weakest or at my strongest. It still applies no matter where I am, happy, sad, going through trials or completely content.

I am stubborn by nature, and I can dig my heals in to situations I want to remain in. But also, when I have had enough because the threat is too much, I can high tail it out of any situation with the best of them.
This song reminds me that my God is bigger. – Bigger then what? Everything!

I won’t be moved, I won’t be scared into moving, I won’t be bullied into moving, I won’t be charmed into moving, I won’t be bribed into moving, I won’t be grieved into moving.

Through frustrations with God, or myself, I will not be moved. Through lies whispered or screamed, through addictions and strongholds, I will not be moved, through taking people I love, I will not be moved.

On Christ – the solid Rock I stand – all other ground is sinking sand. I will NOT be moved.

A broken halleluiah
This is a vow song, a wedding song from me to Christ. It’s a battle cry in the midst of war. It’s an – I am getting beat up – but I love you and I know you know what you are doing, statement.

The words:
I can barely stand right now….Everything is crashing down,…And I wonder where You are.

I try to find the words to pray….I don’t always know what to say,…But You’re the one that can hear my heart.

Even though I don’t know what your plan is…I know you’re making beauty from these ashes.

I’ve seen joy and I’ve seen pain….On my knees, I call your name….Here’s my broken hallelujah.

With nothing left to hold onto…I raise these empty hands to you….Here’s my broken hallelujah.

You know the things that have brought me here….You know the story of every tear…. ‘Cause you’ve been here from the very start.

When all is taken away… don’t let my heart be changed….Let me always sing Hallelujah
When I feel afraid, don’t let my hope be erased…Let me always sing Hallelujah….Let me always sing Hallelujah.

I will always sing…I will always sing…Here’s my broken hallelujah

You matter for 5 minutes…

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Wheat field at sunset

You have 5 days = 5 minutes on the “stage of life’

Our daughter was 15 when she took her own life. It was a shock as obviously suicides are. My husband and I were together when we discovered her. We found her at our home and it was after 6 pm. Her brothers had been there, one all day and two others for more than two hours. Thankfully none of them saw her. I can’t even imagine what that would be like for them now. I am glad that if anyone, it was my husband and I.
This made a loud impact in our community. Not only was she 15, but maybe she did not realize how many people really did love her. She didn’t see it coming that she affected many more in our community that did not know her, even though it wouldn’t have been enough. Her funeral alone boasted numbers of over 300+. Pretty good for a girl that thought she was alone and had no one, or that she would not matter to anyone if she was gone. Kids poured in from the High school, the middle school, and elementary schools. Teachers were there, some teachers from schools out of the district and from cities we had not lived in for several years. There was an unbelievable support from my church. Many people that I am close friends with now were there and I did not know them at all at the time. Our family was very supported and very prayed for.
Social media is great for getting the word out fast regarding news like this. It helped me tell family members that were not in the loop, or were forgotten about by their point persons. It helped friends get the word out to other friends. I was able to literally last minute post a request that everyone wear converse shoes at the funeral with their dresses and suits, because that’s all my girl wore. But social media also spreads rumors. It can spread misunderstandings and non truths. Speculations were flying about “how” she did it. Death is a weird thing. We wonder all of these things about it because it’s so sudden and immediate and forever. We don’t know the mystery behind death and we cannot explain it. We all have our ideas and hopes and certainties or uncertainties about what happens after you die. Do you just fail to exist? Does your spirit come out of your body and you go to Heaven or Hell? Do you just go to sleep? Then there are those that look at the way in which she died and ugly things are said, “she is going to hell.” “That’s an abomination against God. “ “If she was so close to God, why did she kill herself?” Oh yes, we were not guarded from people being, well, human. No matter how tacky and distasteful – it was in our face.
My son, who was her full blood brother, was very, very worried about going back to school. The internet was swarming with all kinds of information and when you are a kid, things like this are magnified because it happened to a peer their age. Some of these kids have thought about the same things. Some of the kids were in total denial. Others pointed fingers at other schoolmates. There were widespread rumors of her being bullied. That was the theme of most teen age suicides at the time. No one that was not close to her knew what she was really dealing with. And if anyone really knew her, they would know that she was usually the bully. Dakota wasn’t going to allow anyone to step to her. Even her father bought into the “bully campaign” and gave a bunch of her photos away to someone that was going to eventually make a buck off of my daughter’s unfortunate decision from a “bully” book. I know why he took to that train, so that he did not have to look within himself and ask the question: “Did I play a role in this”?
Because my son was so concerned with what the kids were saying he asked if he could stay home another day from school. We agreed. The rest of the kids went to school. One of his brothers attended the same school he did, but I don’t think that many people knew that Dakota and my step son were related. Dakota’s brother had to go to school the following day and came home relieved because no one said anything to him. He did not hear any whispers in the halls and his friends did not treat him any different than they had before. It was almost as if life went on, like nothing had just tragically happened.
When you go through grief, time isn’t what it was. Everyone is going about living life, and you feel as if you are walking in slow motion, super in-tuned to your inner person and other peoples inner persons, that you almost feel as if you could survive without a body and you would get the same affect. It’s as if the world is in a cloud no one can see, but you are super focused on it. You hear louder for certain things and hear nothing for others. You are very hypersensitive and numb all at the same time and inside what feels like huge walls of confusion. Shock wraps all throughout you and sleep is either there in abundance or not at all. You catch yourself laughing, although it feels heavier than before. You really have to work at it to laugh and the thrill of the laugh is short lived. It’s like walking in a bubble. You feel isolated and alone unless you are with those that are going through it with you. Things and situations that you were ok with at first, after a week or some of time, you realize you are not ok with. You start to wonder where your audacity went. The family is just trying to practice breathing every other second and countless non immediate family members are dealing with the loss in their own way by stirring the pot in other areas. A week later, you are re living all of these experiences in your head, as if for the first time. Similar to having an out of body experience at the funeral. I remember looking back through the visitors’ book, surprised that some people were signed in, I don’t remember seeing them. I remember I was upset that certain friends didn’t show up when remembering distant acquaintances were there and lived farther away.
About a month after Dakota died, and after six months of processing that and the way things were making him feel, my son said something profound and absolutely true. “You have five days.” I said ”I am not sure what that means.” He said,” you are famous for five days, everyone is talking about you and your situation or your death and suicide and how it made them feel and how their family feels, etc. After five days, everyone goes on to something else. No one cares about you after five days. “
I contemplated that for a while. He was right; I remember there was a sigh of relief on his face when he came through the door after returning from his first day back to school. He was relieved that no one was talking about it. He was afraid to face the rumors of what happened, because, he would have had to speak the words of what she really did, no one was ready for that. Kids were saying she got hit by a truck, and there was much speculation about how she took her own life. I did some searching myself to see what they were saying. I almost corrected some of them and decided it would be too weird for me to get involved, so I stayed out of it as if I never witnessed it. We saw things that were posted; I had many kids friend me on the social networks. Our family touched many people.
But the majority forgot and moved on after 5 days.
My son went on to say – so If you are thinking about committing suicide to get attention, that’s stupid and if you are trying to do it out of anger, that’s dumb too because people are only going to care for about 5 minutes, and then some other stupid drama pops up.

How we lost part of ourselves

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2014-04-16 13.07.46For persons who have lost someone – and let’s be honest – we have all been touched by death in one way or another. A number of of us have experienced death in the “natural order”. These deaths are, nonetheless, incredibly painful losses for example: grandparents or beloved teachers and mentors. The closer it is to home, the added intensity is of the pain. When I say home, I mean heart. When the loss is closer to the heart, the harder it hurts.

You saunter about as if you are looking for any resemblance of yourself. I did this. There was a great deal of me that I lost after she left. When someone is to a large extent, 80% of your day to day, every day and suddenly that stops… it’s catastrophic to continue on in the same manner – that “YOU” as you knew it just doesn’t exist any longer. You have to find what pieces you have and attempt to form a shape out of that.

There are no advantages to losing a loved one – but as you begin to sense that you are becoming ready to search out the ways in which you can obtain getting a little on track with things again – it does seem like a breath of fresh air to ditch some of that old staunch way of boxing yourself in or in other words “living & thinking” and instead, embrace something novel. “Reinventing who you are” that can be empowering and invigorating. You have become a different character. You are changed. Your experiences have molded you in a different way. The course has shifted. I know that my path or direction was a sudden hit. It; and “It” being: “my direction in how I would spend my days with the giant void that used to fill it”; literally felt as though I got hit with a large whiffle bat in the gut and then from the strength and momentum of the blow swung me around and around imagine (15) 360 degree turns. Coming back from the dizziness you are left with in life after a blast like that takes time and everyone’s timing is different from anyone else. I am presently coming to the realization that I feel, I could completely transform my opinions, suggestions, activities, job, ministry, and focus in life.

I am taking life’s challenge and reinventing myself, I think I am finally coming out of the fog.

Where is this going

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First I want to post about life and why things with us are good today!
God is good, memories are good.

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This is a photo of a paper I found recently. This was the 5th grade end of the year party. I was a chaperone and these were the kids on my list to watch over. We also got Brock later on in the day.

Philippians 4:8
Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable–if anything is excellent or praiseworthy–think about such things.

Every day is not a downer. There are moments within the day where we are low.
It’s like that song… Tubthumping.
I was just going to use the chorus, but as I was reading the lyrics again I realized… the whole song is applicable to some of those days we have.

“Tubthumping”

We’ll be singing
When we’re winning
We’ll be singing

I get knocked down
But I get up again
You’re never gonna keep me down
I get knocked down
But I get up again
You’re never gonna keep me down

Pissing the night away
Pissing the night away
He drinks a whiskey drink
He drinks a vodka drink
He drinks a lager drink
He drinks a cider drink
He sings the songs that remind him
Of the good times
He sings the songs that remind him
Of the better times

Oh, Danny Boy
Danny Boy

I get knocked down
But I get up again
You’re never gonna keep me down
I get knocked down
But I get up again
You’re never gonna keep me down

Pissing the night away
Pissing the night away
He drinks a whiskey drink
He drinks a vodka drink
He drinks a lager drink
He drinks a cider drink
He sings the songs that remind him
Of the good times
He sings the songs that remind him
Of the better times

Don’t cry for me
Next door neighbor

I get knocked down
But I get up again
You’re never gonna keep me down
I get knocked down
But I get up again
You’re never gonna keep me down

I get knocked down
(We’ll be singing)
But I get up again
You’re never going to keep me down
(When we’re winning)
I get knocked down
(We’ll be singing)
But I get up again
You’re never going to keep me down
(Ooh, ooh, ooh)