Wednesday, December 28, 2011


Four years ago Sean and I left our old church.  The split was painful and disillusioning.  I thought I would be serving the Lord with these people for a very long time.  Words like "respect" and "offense" were carelessly thrown about.  It's difficult to reconcile the walk not lining up with the talk. 

To me, church is a place where you can take a deep breath.  A place that represents the unconditional love that Jesus is.  Now, I know people get in the way, I really do.  But, it's supposed to be a place where people treat you differently.  It's meant to be a safe harbor of sorts. 

Fast forward to the present day.  Sean and I in choosing a church picked the polar opposite of where we had just left.  Where it was once tiny, now it's large.  It's kind of easy to get lost in.  And that's just what we did for three years.  But, God slowly started to lead the way and we started serving in small ways.  Then Sean's illness came along.  And people really rallied to our side.  People in that church called me and sat with me and pulled me through. 

That help was probably never more prevalent until the day I moved.  I felt unprepared and overwhelmed.  It was such a big undertaking for me to do alone.  But, alone was NOT what I was that day.  What was the weirdest thing was that people seemed to do it with a joyful heart.  I don't think I saw a single eyeroll or heard a sigh in frustration.  They showed up.  They came with strong backs and laughter and they reached out to someone who utterly could not do ONE thing for herself that day.  And, to methere was church service that day.    

Now my only problem is really how to thank them.  They will never know how very much I appreciated that my bed and those of my children were made, my kitchen was put away, furniture was moved and moved again, that whenever I said, "Have you seen my children?" someone always had.  My pantry is stocked and organized and whenever I go in there, I think, "that's exactly where I would have put that."  When I think back to that day, my heart gets full and it's something I won't soon forget. 

They were literally His hands and feet that day.  It didn't matter that we didn't meet in a building, that a collection wasn't raised, that worship songs weren't sung, He was praised.  And I'm just so glad I got to be a part of that. 

Saturday, December 3, 2011

I bought a house

The inspections are done, the paperwork is completed, in ONE WEEK I will be a homeowner.  I am 40 years old and I have never owned my own little corner of the world.  People say I'm amazing.  I think they're a little crazy.  To me this is survival.  It's amazing what you can do when you have little choice.  People say they couldn't do what I'm doing.  I think they're wrong.  When your kids are at stake and when you HAVE to have their best interests at heart, the big girl pants have to come on. 

People say to me that this is exciting.  It is.  But it's all really scary and really sad and really emotional.  It's hard for me to leave this house because it's where Sean took his last breath.  It's scary because a day will come when water will leak, furnaces will have trouble, toilets will overflow and there will be no one to turn to.  The big girl pants will have to get thrown on then too.

But, I'll get to paint a wall.  I have never in my life gotten to do that.  I'll get to pick out the color all by myself.  I got to buy furniture that I like.  I have literally never bought a dining room table before and now I have.  One time my real estate agent said to me, "You know, you could take this carpet out and have hardwood floors here."  Gosh, I could, couldn't I?   

The one thing that drives me on is my children are watching.  I don't want them to drown in grief.  I want them to take those moments when the pain hits and cry really hard but when their ready to run, I tell em to run.  I laugh with them, I play video games with them.  Life is meant to be lived, the hard times as well as the good.  And I know deep in my heart that Sean would be pleased with that.  He wouldn't want me to sit in a corner all day.  So, I bought a house.

So, as literally and figuratively, one door opens while another closes, I will have a tear in my eye, a smile on my face and a lump in my throat.