First Thanksgiving in Brazil

First Thanksgiving in Brazil...

    The Land of Firsts is a strange place. Just about the time when you think you’ve got things almost figured out… the Land of Firsts throws you a curve ball.

    Now, you have to understand…this “Region” of the Land of Firsts is packed full of first things. And honestly, there is no way to begin to list all the “Firsts” that I have encountered in this month since I left the USA. Every day is filled with “Firsts”. The “Firsts” of foods, for example.

      About the only thing that is not “new” is rice and beans, and even then it’s prepared differently.  Not a problem, I could eat rice and beans every day and not get tired of it. But there is plenty that is new. And not only that, but now I need to learn how to cook at that new food!!

There was the first time going grocery shopping… how do you know what to buy when you don’t even know what to fix?!

And of course the first week in my new house… still getting settled, finding out what I still need to get for the house… .lot’s of “Firsts.”  The first time to use my new washing machine. First time putting my clothes on the line to dry. Cooking my first meals. The list could go on and on.

    Yet, despite the many “Firsts” and many challenges, I feel very much at home here in this new land. Of course those who know me know that I am LOVING the warm weather. The folks here are complaining because it is so hot, and I’m enjoying it immensely. 

 

    The life and vitality of the people and of the church are infectious, and at each worship service, I feel so much at home. There will be those times when the challenges will be more intense, but there is a peace I have at this point of just being here… feels like home.

Even with the neighbor's rooster crowing in my back yard... 

     Today as I write this, it is Thanksgiving back home. Family and friends are preparing for their Thanksgiving get-togethers. I had thought about trying to make a Thanksgiving dinner here, but the time just did not allow it. So it was nice when I was invited to a neighbor’s house. Actually a couple in the church that live just two doors down from me. They were having a baptism for a woman in the church who has terminal cancer. The doctors have told her there is no cure, no treatment, and they can only help her manage the pain. It was a sweet time as family and friends gathered in the back of the house and the pastor baptized her in a large plastic tub.

    That is when the surprise came. I was overcome with the memories of Marilou’s last days.  It was all I could do to blink away my tears. The peace in this sister's countenance reminded me of the peace that Marilou had in those last few days we had together. I was blind-sided! The nice thing is, I fit right in as everyone else had tear in their eyes as well, but for their friend. I, tears of grief, of remembrance. It was again rather surprising to me… why is it that these times seem to catch me by surprise? Yet each time, the grief just kind of pops in on some situation, and I’m left trying to cover up the best I can. I didn’t want my own tears to be a distraction from what they were sharing together. Leaving and going home to cry would only raise more questions, so I looked into the corner and let the waves of tears pass.

    Then, it was back to trying to understand the conversations, trying to fit in where I could. I sat there enjoying the life, the fellowship they share together… it was life-giving.

    And so, another day in the Land of Firsts. New vocabulary words, new verbs to conjugate, new things to learn. Loving this place I am at right now, and yet reminded every once in a while of how different things are now than they used to be a few short months ago. So very  different. 

  

The Adventure continues…

The Grief Clock keeps good Time...

November 3, 2012 – 

The Grief Clock Keeps Good Time…

This is still the land of firsts… and there are certainly many firsts… to many to name then all here… Let alone the new language, new culture, new city, new family, new foods, a new Brazilian haircut, new words, new friends, new schedule,… I have always been an early morning / early to bed kind of person… well my new schedule is that it is normal at least in the pastor’s household and in this culture to be up at midnight, 1:00am. The difficulty I have is that I wake up with the light, which here is about 4:30am.

And on the list can go… what I  have told Eneas and Simone here is that EVERYTHING they take for granted is NEW to me. From shopping for, preparing, and cooking food, to how to dispense with the toilet paper…  you see, here you don’t flush your toilet paper… you put it in a little canister by the toilet.

Well, in the midst of all of this… the last few days have been more emotional than usual and then I realized that, yes, indeed, the Grief Clock keeps good time. 

 Today is the 14^th month Anniversary of Marilou’s death. In fact, 14 months, and 15 minutes ago, as I am writing this...

Seems hard to  believe… who would have ever imagined even a year ago that I would be moved here and starting a new life in this place. 

Now understand… it’s all good.  I have such assurance that the Lord has lead me here, but there is still that pesky thing of grief to deal with…  that’s one of the few things that I didn’t leave behind in the U.S.  I’m happy with what God is doing, even in this short week since I have been here…

But Grief has to have it’s way, and I know I need to allow it to do it’s work… but right now it’s hard. The other thing that makes it hard, is that I am pretty much alone in my grief. It’s really always been that way… I can share the fact with people, but no one understands… really… unless they have experienced the death of a spouse after such a long time of marriage. And no one around me has experienced that, so I am alone in my grief until it will pass. Until the next time.

It is indeed strange that there can be such a mixture of emotions in one person in one day. We went down to the beach today… some people in the church here have a place near the beach… not the tourist beach… natural beach… beautiful white sand for kilometers up and down the coast. Waves crashing in at the tide was coming in. Amazingly stunning, and I was reminded of Marilou and I at the Beach in Joao Pessoa in 2010,

and then last December bringing her ashes back to that same beach.

So, I write, and don’t try to figure it out, and I let grief have it’s way… knowing that the Grief Clock keeps good time. Maybe next month, I don’t know, but at some unexpected moment the Grief Clock will strike it’s note and remind me of a chapter of  my life that is past, yet now apart. The page has been turned, but the chapter  has been written in permanent ink so that it can be referenced at any time.

Tomorrow?  More firsts… my first “second week” in Brazil.  And more firsts await me in this next chapter of Walking Through the Land of Firsts.

 

Thanks for walking with me this little  way...

‘Till next time….

One Year.... What do I say?

One Year... Today is the "One Year Anniversary" of Marilou's Home-going.

And to be honest with you I'm not sure what to write here. Last post I wrote was about "Loop Soup," and all the mixture of feelings that are swirling around in me. I'm still in the pot!!

This is a strange place, this "Land of Firsts." I'm not sure I necessarily had any expectations of what I would find as I entered this new land, but it is not anything like I would have imagined. At least for me. And all of us are different in how we react and respond to this new territory.

But it is a strange place. In hearing some people talk, I would have thought I might be a pile of tears today. Well, the day's not over yet.... but this morning was taken up looking for my license tab that was supposed to go on my car on Saturday. So after that frantic search, it was time to head over to Esther and Tony's place to walk a little and have lunch together. I ditched out so I would be alone at 2:50pm... the time of her passing.

I "knew" the time in my senses when it came, even though I was driving. No breakdown, just remembering...

And, things change...

The recliner sofa she relaxed in her last day here just went out the door. The room where a year ago, Marilou had spent her last nine day in her hospital bed, where we all gathered a year ago today to watch her pass into eternity. Where I kept my finger on her artery until the very last pulse was done... at 2:50 pm. That room is now a "staging area" for my packing my belongings for the move to Brazil.

 Never!! would I have even dreamt that a year after we left her body lying in that bed, and I was calling the Hospice to tell them she passed away, would I have thought I would be packing bags, selling furniture and books and everything else I can, in order to take up a new residency in Brazil.


But here it is. A year later and still I'm sometimes wondering if this is all real. It's hard to believe it's only been a year, and it's hard to believe it's been a whole year! I'm not sure how I should react... There are times when the "wave" comes suddenly and I remember something we shared together... and then it passes. And in a way, I almost feel guilty if I am not sorrowful or crying, yet in the midst of all of this the Lord has given me great peace, and perhaps the fact that this call to Brazil came so soon is really the Lord's way of keeping me from dwelling too much on the loss.

There was a very serendipitous moment a few days ago as I made a video to remember this one year anniversary ( you can watch it on my YouTube channel - Click Here ). I had watched it a number of times before with tears in my eyes each time. But this time, still with tears in my eyes, I was overwhelmed with a sense of thanksgiving! My heart was just crying out, "Thank you, Lord, for allowing me to have this wonderful person in my life for those years!!!"  It was another one of those turning point moments. A few months ago, the Lord spoke to me about making her life a source of worship, but here it became real and powerful thanks for this life that touched mine, shaped mine, challenged mine. I was blown away!

 So here I am, at the one year mark... a "Loop Soup" of mixed emotions and circumstances. A past to celebrate, and a future to explore. Actually, it's quite amazing. And... this is not the end of the "Firsts!" I will be having a whole new season of "Firsts" as I head to Brazil, learn a new language, a new culture, a new ministry... and who knows what other "Firsts" are awaiting me. Oh yea, My Lord knows!  

Then, it's OK.

'till next time...

"Loop Soup"

"Loop Soup" --

I have not written here for a while. It's not that I haven't had some things I had thought about writing, but life has been pretty busy lately. I have been in the process of preparations to move to Brazil. If you are not familiar with that little adventure,
I would like to invite you to read about it on my ministry website at, www.yourservantinchristministries.org
You can learn more of my ministry and go to the pages entitled "Brazil - The Adventure" and follow the story.

It's kind of surreal to fathom that I am now entering into a whole season of Firsts in this journey of grief. It was one year ago that Marilou and I began to try to grasp the fact that we were dealing with the issue of cancer. It was one year ago August 11th that she went in for a Biopsy, and had to stay overnight due to fever spikes. A year ago today she came home, and that really began her downhill spiral. It was August 16th that we went to see a doctor at the clinic because of her increasing fevers and found out the diagnosis.Eighteen days later she would be gone.

These past weeks and days leading up to September 3rd, I have had such a mix of emotions and responses. I have tried to find some way of describing what is going on in me. The best description I could find was the word "Soup." The idea being that I am in the midst of just a lot of stuff swirling around inside and it's all kind of mixed up together. Soup is defined as a liquid food made from some sort of stock and usually containing solid foods. Well, I've got quite a pot of soup here. Look at some of the ingredients in my "Loop Soup";

Stock: The "Soup Stock" if you will, that all the rest is swimming around in is grief. Grief is not something you put on the shelf and take it down when it is convenient. If you have lived with grief or read some of my other entries, you realize that grief is with you all the time. It never really leave you, in fact, it is like a soup that is constantly swirling around inside you. It is not "turned off" when you don't want it... it's just there.

Other Ingredients:
Anniversary Memories - As I mentioned earlier, in these short weeks there are just a flood of memories of what we were doing one year ago, what we were feeling. We had no idea this would happen so quickly. This part of the soup I have given the label as something "sour." I thought about calling it "bitter" but honestly, I am not bitter, and the memories are not "bitter" as such, but they add a sour taste to this soup that is simmering inside me.

Memories of our Lives Together - There are lots of those that are floating around in the soup. They are the "sweet" ingredients. I have been "digitizing" pictures so I can take them to Brazil with me. And they bring up all kinds of memories. Our wedding out in the park in Dallas Texas on May 20, 1972... we always seemed to do things in an unconventional way. The family vacations at Samuel P. Taylor State Park in Northern California. A place of special memories for all of the family. Those three months we spent together in Brazil. There are many sweet memories. It's not that we had a perfect life together, actually far from it, but we had some good times, and she was a real trooper! 

Brazil Adventure - This incredibly amazing adventure that God has invited me on to move to and minster in Brazil. Although down there they don't care for food too spicy, for me, this is like a "spicy" part of the soup. One of the definitions of spicy is, lively, or spirited. This new adventure for me is certainly that! God is putting me in the midst of a very lively and spirited group of people who love the Lord, and for some crazy reason, love me. God is going to add some spice to my life in this season.

Leaving The Old Life Behind - I'm not really sure what this part might represent. In order to move to Brazil, I am only taking what I can fit into four suitcases. Everything else, but a few things I will leave behind with Esther and Tony will be sold or given away. Almost every vestige of my former life will be left behind when I board that plane for Brazil. I will be walking into a whole new life, new culture, new ministry, new home, new everything. Now, I am planning on coming back and visiting and bringing teams back and forth, but as the Lord gives strength, my new home will be Brazil. As I am sorting through things, it's actually pretty hard, because there are so many memories attached to all this stuff. The other day I was crawling under the dining room table, and thought of all the things we have done around that table, I just lay on the floor and cried.

So then to make a good soup, you need to turn up the heat!! The pressures of moving, dealing with so many issues of getting the "Missionary Visa," trying to help the family understand... that turns up the heat for sure!

But then as one friend reminded me, and I had thought of this... my prayer is that the aroma that comes from this "soup" would be smelling so good, that it would make people hungry for more of God.

 He is the chef, and He knows what He is doing as He stirs the pot and mixes all these flavors together, and my prayer is that as Paul told the Corinthians, in 2 Corinthians 2:14-15 (NLT)
 Now he uses us to spread the knowledge of Christ everywhere, like a sweet perfume. Our lives are a Christ-like fragrance rising up to God. But this fragrance is perceived differently by those who are being saved and by those who are perishing.
My prayer is that what I am going through, and how God remains so faithful would be a sweet fragrance to all who will come in contact with this adventure, this "soup."


One last thing...
There was a while when I really thought that this or maybe one more entry would be my last writing for this particular blog about the "Land of First." But then as I thought about it, I realized, no, this is not the END of this Land of Firsts, this is only the beginning of the journey through the Land of First. I am about to have a whole LOT of "Firsts" when I land in Brazil. So watch out... there may be more coming!


Thanks for following along with me on this Journey. It means a lot, and again, my prayer is that somehow, what I write here, might be a blessing, and encouragement to someone along the way.
God bless you richly.

Turning Grief into Worship

This land of firsts if full of surprises and new vistas. New horizons and new territory that lies at the other side of sometimes unexpected experiences. This has been the case in recent days. There is a lot of talk about "the first year" of grieving. This "anniversary" is sometimes spoken of as if it were a "threshold" to get over. For me, this is more like a "season" of anniversaries. I have been entering a whole season of anniversary events that will culminate in the September 3rd Anniversary of Marilou's passing away. It was a year ago that we were closing the deal for our house. July is full of anniversary memories.

It was in July of 2010 that Marilou and I spent three weeks in Brazil, praying and seeking the face of God. It was a formative time, that gave Marilou the strength to face her last months of life here on earth. It was one year ago the end of July that we closed on the house and moved into the house. It was a year ago that we knew she was not feeling well, but had no idea what would lie before us.


The last few weeks I have been gathering "extra stuff" to sell in garage sales.. things that I cannot keep, or cannot take to Brazil with me. Most of those things are things that Marilou collected... Coke memorabilia, coffee mugs from around the world, lighthouses, plates, and seasonal decorations, etc. It is not that it is hard for me to part with them, it is just that here are all reminders of her life, her desires, the things that brought her happiness. Mixed emotions...


In the midst of this, I admit, I was struggling... not knowing how to react... wondering if I am heading in the right direction, yet knowing God' is leading... just a lot of stuff swirling around in my head. Then a couple weekends ago, I was driving up North to do some teaching with an intercessors group.  As I was driving, I was allowing these issues to fill up my mind and thoughts... I was feeling that sense of needing some "assurance," you know that feeling? It got to the point that I reached over, turned off the car radio, grabbed the steering wheel with both hands and said, "Jesus, we need to have a talk!"  At that very moment, on the other side of the highway, came a bright green motorcycle.... with a side car!!
  The picture God has given me as a symbol of our "Adventure" together. It was an in-your-face reassurance that my "Daddy" knows. I could only say, "OK, sorry." There have been those reassurances in the faithfulness of God.


But today was a different dimension that God revealed to me in this grief process. This morning in our worship service, the pastor was preaching on worship. That all of our lives should be worship, that we should see God in all the things in our lives.  In the midst of that, the Lord gently spoke a word to me. It was a simple word... "Worship me for her life." It was like some shackles fell off my heart. I have been in this weird time when I miss her terrifically, when I am coming on all these anniversary events, and when sometimes I feel this weird feeling of whether my memories of her are real... I know if seems strange, but it's like I know she was, but it seems now so distant and apart from my daily experience now....

But here was God putting a whole new dimension on my grief... worship!! "Worship me for her life." Exalt God for the memories, worship Him for the things she added to my life, and the lives of so many. Worship Him for the work of His grace in her life. Worship Him that she passed from this life with a strong faith in her Savior. Worship Him that in her last days, she was hungry to see Him face to face. Worship Him for the gift of our time together. Worship Him for the gift of our children the Lord gave us together. God's challenge to me today was to turn my grief into worship!!!

Yes, Lord! I worship You for all these things and so much more that was her life. She was not perfect, I do not worship her, I worship the YOU that was working in and through her. I choose to turn my grieving into a worship of the God who defeated the enemy of death, and will turn my mourning into dancing, Psalm 30:11-12  - (NKJV) You have turned for me my mourning into dancing; You have put off my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness, To the end that my glory may sing praise to You and not be silent. O LORD my God, I will give thanks to You forever.

Anniversary Thoughts and Ponderings

Sunday, May 20th would have been our 40th Anniversary...

Last month, when coming back from Houston, I flew through Dallas.It was a difficult time as I looked from the air at our former home. It was there that we met, both students at Dallas Bible College. It was at Lake Ray Hubbard, that it took me forever to "pop the question" that we both knew was coming. We had an outdoor wedding on a beautiful day in Dallas.

It's pretty amazing how much a person becomes a part of you in the course of forty short years. Today I was  preparing for a garage sale, and found a tub of some of her sweatshirts.... one of her favorites... a Mickey Mouse sweatshirt...she loved Mickey. I had the tears come, but I thought it was interesting that it was not like it would have been a few months ago. Does that mean I am getting better? There is a conflict there... on one hand, I know I need to move on, get through this first year of grieving ( "They" say it's the first year that is the hardest), but on the other hand, there is this feeling almost of guilt to not feel like I did eight months ago. I know I'm not supposed to be guilty about not being "as sad," but sometimes feelings get all mixed up.

Forty years....almost two-thirds of my life... you know what I miss?  I miss HER.... but I miss her presence... I miss just having her around... not having to say anything.... just being around. But then I miss someone to talk to. This place gets pretty quiet when it's just me. I miss being able to talk to her about stuff...like most good wives, she knew me enough to be able to speak the truth to me when I needed to hear it. I miss that.

It's been eight and a half months....but in some ways it seems like an eternity. This morning I was looking at her picture I have up in the bathroom, and it was almost like it was a part of a different life.... in a  way it was.
It was a different life...it started 40 years ago, and ended a little over eight years ago. Her imprint will always be on my life. Nothing and no one will ever replace her. Shoot... I REALLY miss  her!

But I am trying very hard to move ahead. My biggest struggle is the loneliness... the aloneness when you have been used to having a companion to share everything with you. So I continue to try to "re-invent" my life.
I will be allowing the house to go into foreclosure... it has served it's purpose. I will sell most of my stuff, and as the Lord opens the door... I will move to Brazil. If that works  out... who knows how long I will stay there?

From the very beginning of my Christian life, my only desire has been to serve the Lord I love, Who first loved me. So that is my desire, my passion... to follow Him.

Daddy, Thank you for giving me my precious wife Marilou. Thank you for the years we had together. Thank you for the ways that she changed and shaped me into who I am today. Thank you for  her example to me in so many different areas. Thank you for all the areas of life that we shared together. Lord, you know that everything was not perfect, but thank you, Father that you graciously chose to allow me to have her in my life for these past forty years. Thank you, Lord, that because of what Jesus did, I have the hope that I will see her again, in your presence. Help me to hold on to what I need to hold on to, and let go of what I need to let go of. Continue to make me the man you want me to be... now without her in this season. I give this season of my life to you.
In Jesus Name...
Amen.

....'till next time...

"First Easter"

"Hoss" stood this morning in church and testified that this was his "First Easter" as a believer. How at the Good Friday service, he came more fully to understand the extent of the price that Jesus willingly paid for our sins. It was a wonderful testimony. He is growing in his faith, and it is wonderful to see.

Today, I too had a "First Easter." It is my 43rd as a believer in Jesus, and my first as a widower. It came as a surprise. No, not Easter morning, not like those first disciples. The surprise was the emotions that came flooding into my heart on this day. A day when normally, and rightly there is great celebration at the truth that Jesus conquered the grave, and death. That is wonderful joyous news! The emotions came, and.... honestly, I was not even sure how to label them. A form of the grieving process for sure... and the loneliness that hides just below the surface. I had a hard time giving any kind of label to it, but it was sure real! And it caused somewhat of a conflict for me.

The conflict between what I know, and truly believe... and what I feel. It is the age old challenge for every person. Do I truly live what I say I believe? That question is proven out in the very deepest and painful circumstances of life. I know I am not alone in that, yet this morning that struggle came roaring to life as I drove to the Easter morning service. Knowing that for good reasons, I would need to put on the "game face."  It is what I don't want more than anything, is to be seen as this old widower that's moping around, sad and feeling sorry for himself all the time. Oh God NO! And certainly this was a morning to celebrate the resurrection as well. Interestingly enough the sermon was on how we need to live out the truth of what Jesus did for us in His death and resurrection. An appropriate exhortation for me today.

That does not mean that I have conquered this thing. The emotions are still there as I write. And I know that they are part of a process I need to embrace. But I will not become a victim to them, or the process. Somehow, by the grace of God, I want to get beyond this. And honestly, I am not even sure where that is. But I know that it is a place where I can live out the truths of the Gospel that I believe with all my heart. The truth that Jesus did indeed conquer death and the grave. And that someday, I will come to live in the reality of those truths in a stronger, more confident way than I have in any of the past 43 years. How do I do that? By affirming TODAY that I believe. By applying that belief to my present feelings, not ignoring them, but causing them to be molded into the shape of what I believe. Is it ok to grieve the loss of my wife on Easter? Sure it is. Is it ok to acknowledge that on this day of the celebration of the resurrection of Christ that I am lonely? Yea, I think so. The challenge is allowing those realities to co-exist together in me all at the same time. The resurrection of Jesus from the grave does not erase my grief and loneliness, it puts it into a different context. It allows me to grieve and be lonely with a hope and confidence. That might seem contradictory to some, but isn't that really the nitty gritty of the Gospel? The Gospel of God does not erase our humanness, it puts a new dimension on our humanness in its "earthly" context. So, again, it's a journey. It's a walk through the Land of Firsts. And today, as most days, it is one foot in front of the other, but because of the truth of Easter morning, I walk, with tears, with loneliness, with my eyes not on my tears and loneliness, but my eyes on the Hope that is set before me.

Gosh, I hope that made sense.... 'till next time...

March 3, 2012 - Six Months hits hard.

I didn't really expect the six month mark to hurt this much. March 3rd is the six month remembrance... (I can't bring myself to use the word "Anniversary" because that word connotes happy celebration). I knew it was coming, and then it started flooding in... the memories... the emotions. The "unreality" of it all... I didn't expect it to be hit quite this hard so early. It began this afternoon, as I thought about the family being here, our vigil, the last hours...and then it came flooding in again... the loneliness, empty.... I thought I could stick it out at prayer meeting tonight, but I just didn't want to risk breaking down there and disrupting everything.  There's a part of me that just says, nobody can understand this... For God's Sake, I DON'T EVEN  UNDERSTAND IT!  The depth of the chasm of grief is unmeasurable... there is not bottom... at least so it seems now. I am staring into the abyss, and all I see is the black emptiness of Grief. There are not words to really describe it.

And then tonight, all of the feelings from Tuesday came flooding back. It's the combination punch of all the stuff together. If it was only one thing, maybe... but the death of the love of my life, my partner, the one who shared my life, and then having to fight the battles of no income, what to do with the house, the VA that called and said, no they won't pay the hospital bill, I'll have to file an appeal. Everything is a battle...the keyboard tray broke on my computer desk tonight, that was one of those "pokes in the eye" I didn't need... it seems sometimes there is confrontation at every level, and then there is the long list of things to do, battles every one, and it just all kind of falls in, and the pile is so high.Too high. And coming of course at this particular time, it becomes suffocating... overwhelming. Alone.

And I feel guilty for letting it get to me. It's the same thing at in those first weeks. Life goes on, everyone is in their "normal" routine, and have no clue the hell you are going through inside. It takes a lot of energy to keep your chin up, did you know that? And then if I give in, I feel guilty because I am not living in the victory. I know when I get on the other side of this, the Lord's Grace will be what has brought me through, but in the meantime there really does exist the valley of the shadow of death, and sometimes you can smell it's hot and stinky breath right on your neck.

Saturday, March 3rd. Six months. Right now, it doesn't hurt any less. People say it will get less. I want it to go away... the pain, the agony. But it can't go away because it is the gaping hole that remains in me. I carry it wherever I go. So...I know... the Lord is good, He will see me through. "Daddy" and I are on a new adventure together, but Daddy, right now, I just need you to pull the motorcycle and sidecar over to the side of the road, and I need you to hold me, and tell me it will be OK. Then we can drive on together.... OK?


...until next time...

Marilou, I miss you...

February 28, 2012- Mid-Night Grief?

It is actually 1:12 AM. I  have already had my good cry, and the kleenex to prove it are on the floor and a couple on the bed beside  me.  Seems like I wake up a lot this time of night lately. And then about 4 AM or so. The song that is going over an over in my head is, "I cast all my cares upon you. I lay all of my  burdens down at  your feet. And anytime, I don't know... what to do... I just cast all my cares upon you." Well, that's kinda what I've been doing here. crying out... wiping my nose... the usual stuff.

I think the buggest thing tonight is just there is so, so, so much to do. So many things to decide, and it's really HARD when you have to make those decisions all by yourself. With the conflicting answers about visas, who do I believe, which way to I turn? I don't have $200 to pay a lawyer tell my my options about the house. I don't know what I'm going to do with all this stuff....!!  I don't know!  And I don't feel like I can make those kinds of decisions all by myself. And the list goes on... into the night.

I've cried, I'm writing, I'm tired again now... maybe this time.
But there is so much to think about... the two biggest things that have to be done for me to get to Brazil, is the house and the visa. And this was one of those nights when I felt so totally overwhelmed with it all.

Daddy is so Good.!! Really, our relationship has been amazing... He is so patient with me. He is not the one that is thinking I should be about over this stuff. I know sometimes I do, and I'm pretty sure there are some folks I deal with who figure that, but don't want to say too much.  It's only been six months, coming up on March 3. Jeez, I can't even sometimes get my head around what has happened, let alone "be ok with it" after six whole months.

It's a time full of contradictions. On one hand, I am "unfettered." Meaning there are really no things that keep me from doing what I feel the Lord tells me to do. "Foot loose and Fancy free" as they used to say. Kind of an interesting time to live in... to think about anyway. No one to ask permission from. No one to check in with. Cool, right? sure in some sense, but also it means that there is no one there to ask things of. no one there to discuss things with. Kinda works both ways, at least right now.

The wonderful thing that I have been offered t be adopted...well asked to join a church I have been attending here. The pastor sat across the table from me at Starucks and said "You need a family." And he is so right. I DO need a family... close. A family I can lean on and trust and dry with. I don't know actually if they know all they bargained for ...  yet, but its nice.

So the midnight grief monster struck tonight.... but there is also the trying to figure out how to function well as the "footloose ad fancy free old guy." And wondering how all the pieces for Brazil are going to come together. Soooooo many things to get ready.. my website... you know how long it takes to learn a new system?????  Believe me a lot of time.

So I am getting sleepy again, I hope that portends better things ahead. At least in the rest department. I also realized this week, I dress like an old dad... or something... I need help getting up to date.
I like it, it's fun. I'm up for fun... then there are those times after pushing myself for so long... it has to come out somewhere, and here on my bed at 1:00 am is as good as any.

...Till  next time.....

February 10, 2012 - Memories, Taxes and Tears

The last few weeks have been a whirlwind.... last week I was in Wisconsin and had a wonderful time teaching at the College of Prayer there. It was a powerful time. Met a dear sister whose husband had only passed away last May. Still fresh...When you meet someone like that, there is a "knowing." I think especially when it is still so fresh... only five months for me. But there is a "knowing" that others can not grasp unless they have walked in this land. The week was good - and busy. I came back to business and the reality that I have a meeting with my tax man next Monday night. Well, that presented a problem. At the very time that Marilou fell sick, my computers hard drive died as well. Interesting, eh?
 But that meant that I lost some data, and... I am W-A-Y behind in trying to get all that data put back into the Quicken files. So I have been trying, between phone calls, and other obligations to get caught up.

So that lead me to a very unexpected "First" tonight. I was going through the checks, inputting them into Quicken...pretty boring and routine... had some music on in the background... just routine... right?
Until I began to input checks for the down payment on the house... for the inspection on the house... the last check I wrote for our old apartment....suddenly a flood of memories and emotions again came rising to the surface... remembering how happy we were... remembering the look on her face when we signed the papers at closing...writing the check for the curtains... for the small rugs for the living room. Memories, Taxes, and Tears. They all came flooding in, and I realized ... I was at another one of those signposts along the way in this Land of Firsts.

A welcome chat from a friend in Brazil broke the flood for a while. I explained what I was experiencing. They had wonderful words about God's faithfulness. I saw it as a divine interruption, but still... Here I am again...tears streaming down my face, snot running down my lip, and it's like the grief is just as real now, as it was that first day.  You know, it's supposed to get better, or so they say. But you hit one of these "signposts" and it's like that underground river comes roaring back to life. So... my release is here... writing it out...release..my relief valve.  Gosh I miss her!

I met with one of the pastors this morning. The church where we had her memorial. The last church Marilou ever attended on this earth. He is so kind. He met with me before I went to Wisconsin, and said he thought I needed a family here. And they wanted to be that family. I do, I need a family... Not to replace Esther and Tony and Jonathan and Carol, but some folks who will be around here. I was thinking as I came back from my meeting with him how good it would be if I had someone I could just talk to here.
But I find it difficult, because by the time you call, or find someone home, that wave of emotion has crested, and you're in the lull between waves. So you just kind of ride each wave as it comes until they subside again, and retreat back to that underground river.

 It's not all been so bad. I've had some really good days. And things are changing I think. I still feel the void of her absence, but I truly want to venture out in this new season of my life. I was told Monday by a dear friend I need to "follow my heart."  I want to, I just have to figure out what that really is. How does this new house play into that? Where does my income come from? So much is still unknown, unsettled. It's not like my wife died and I go back to my job and plug away. About the same time, my job has sort of disappeared, my income has disappeared, and EVERYTHING, EVERYTHING in my life is floating in suspended animation. Waiting for what? I'm not sure.

Well, I've got to work on these taxes. I'm right at September...and I have to push through to the end of the year. So I'll slug away here with my Memories, Taxes and Tears...

... till next time...

January 24, 2012 - "An Arm Outstreched"

It was a gosh-awful start to the day... sitting in my office hearing the sound of water dripping from the ceiling on the the floor in the bathroom/ laundry room that is next to my office. Somewhere in the unseen spaces of the bathroom upstairs... water was leaking. And it was not going to be one of those "easy fixes." That became evident.

Another first... it's one thing to barely squeak by under "normal" circumstances. But with no income from the ministry, and the familiar looming of depletion of bank accounts, something like this can seem like a stab in the heart. Maybe it was because of what I had been reading this morning. I am slowly and devotionally reading my way through the Psalms. Today it was Psalm 94. And especially one verse near the end caught my attention. 94:19  "...in the multitude of my anxieties within me, Your comforts delight my soul." It was a challenge when I first read it. Now it was becoming life.

Inquiries about somepne that might be able to help led to dead ends. I tried the usual obvious types of inquiries, and it seemed that this one was going to take a lot more work. Probably tearing up the ceiling below to expose that stupid leak. It became a day filled with futility. Nothing really seemed to turn out well. Yes, Father reminded me that we are on an adventure... I've been trying to climb out of the sidecar, and I had forgotten that He was still driving. I chuckled when He first reminded me, but that didn't seem to erase the dark cloud that had settled in my thoughts.

The afternoon was turning into a pit of anxieties. It's one thing to try to carry on and make it day by day in this land when everything is just going ok, but this was one more plate to try to keep spinning. It was one more heavy weight to carry when I was already on very, very thin ice. No income, a week of reminders of how alone I am. It all began to fall in around me. I honestly thought for the first time in all of this, that I just didn't want to go any farther. It is too much trouble. It's too hard. I don't even know if it's really worth it all.  The emptiness, the extra load... I could hear the ice cracking under my feet. I could see the plates falling toward the floor. And then... two things happened at almost the very same time.

First thing was, I got a text from a friend in Indonesia on Yahoo! Messenger.While chatting, I went and brought in the mail.
My friend from Indonesia was an easy and sympathetic victim of my depressive thoughts. Caring and willing to "listen" (that takes on a different meaning now with all the digital conversations we have going on). That is until she asked me a simple question about English grammar, and a phrase she had planned on using for a new outreach campaign. It was not proper English at all, and the phrase was already approved and "going to press." Embarrassment and panic filled her texts now... what could she do? What would be proper? I gave her a couple of suggestions, and the new campaign slogan was born and an emergency meeting was called.  It was maybe like when Peter was sinking down into the water after a few successful steps, and there, an arm outstretched to put him back into the boat.

At the same time, I was piling  up the mail on my desk. a couple more bills to figure out how to pay. Another one overdue, and the mental calculator is going in my head trying to figure out where the money to pay it will come from. Then...one after another.... envelopes that contained checks for the books that had been shipped out, and a couple that contained extra special gifts. Honestly, probably not enough for the plumber bill, but it was indeed to me, an arm outstretched. As I stretched out an arm to help my friend in Indonesia, Others, sending checks from different places at different times, who were also stretching out an arm to me.

It was a very beautiful and humbling moment, to be reminded that Daddy is there, He is watching. To be honest, I have no idea where this is all going to go. I have no idea where money for mortgage payments, utilities payments, and this plumber are all going to come from, but today, for this moment an arm was outstretched to me, and I grabbed hold with all my might.

...till next time...

January 21, 2012 - "What is This?"

I find it interesting that most all my entries on this blog seem to be at night. Maybe it's because I find this such a good release, and by this time of the day, I need to vent. But this week, and especially the last few days have been particularly difficult. Perhaps it's because I have been holed up in the house having neither desire or ability to venture out due to the snow. At least in Minneapolis, they even plowed the residential streets, but no....not here!

Anyway, today I have taken most all of Marilou's things and packed them to ship or taken them to Goodwill. Kind of a exclamation point to how I've been feeling the last few days. And maybe it is depression... I don't really know. There's so much that is up in the air in my life right now....I think it was yesterday, the thought went through my head... "Do older people keep on going because they have a sense of purpose in their life, or just because they haven't died yet?"  The question comes out of this feeling I've been dealing with all week, of how much my life really was woven into hers. I wonder if she knows that now? I sure feel it. I have missed her so much this week. And I still have all around me those reminders of how much she meant to me. Even today, I took the last of her clothing to Goodwill. I dropped the bag of clothes off, and decided to go inside. Bad mistake!!  As I was walking around inside Goodwill, I was hit with this emotional bombshell..."This was her hangout!"  I have never known anybody who could get greater bargains from Goodwill as she could. It was a release for her... to just go isle after isle looking and grazing. That thought hit my mind, and my gut, and I did not run, but I walked very fast out the door, saying to myself... "Big mistake!!"

I packed up some pictures, and other things of hers to send to her sister. Her Dad's bible... she was so glad to get that after he died. That was a treasure for her. Other pictures and mementos went in the box for her sister. Then I packed up a couple of her ball caps to send to Carol. She had this whole basket full of ball caps, and these were ones she got at Jonathan's graduations from Trinity Seminary and Oxford University. If there was anything that characterized Marilou, it was her ball caps. They are gone now. Well, I have one pink Minnesota Twins cap, and one of her tie died T-shirts still hanging in the bedroom. Those will be the last link... I just couldn't do that today.

So what is this? This malaise that hangs over me this week? Every day I have been "on the edge" of tears. I know what it is... and I suppose I should just "embrace" it and get on. Grief. It still is a huge part of my life. It is not something I can escape through business or activity. Like I said last time, it's a stalker... it jumps at you at the worst of times. But this week it has been relentless. Everything  is a reminder. Friday night the prayer group came over. I do enjoy hosting them, and they seem to like coming here. But this Friday, I lit some candles and it was like... Marilou loved her candles... even lighting the candles poked a hole in my heart.

I'm trying to make some fairly dramatic life changes, like starting my own 501C(3) ministry... and I'm realizing, I don't have her to bounce things off of anymore. She was always there to be a sounding board, and give me wise, sage advice. Even as I have been moving in this direction, there was one time when I could almost hear her telling me she doesn't  understand why I don't believe more in myself. -- OK, now I'm trying to type through the tears again. It was that way all week. What is this? Why so intense now? Why for so many days without relief? I'm honestly not sure sometimes how it's all going to look. I'm so used to her being a part of everything. And now... she's not. Yea, yea... I know what you would say..."Oh but she is a part ... in your memories... blah, blah, blah."  Yea, but that doesn't cut the mustard, it's a flimsy way of trying to placate the intensity of these feelings.  What do I do, when every place I turn there is still, almost as much as at the beginning, that sense of loss... of her NOT being here? What is this now?

Then I remember... It's still really only been four and a half months since she left. You know... that's really not a very long time. I've tried hard. I'm trying to make it... I have virtually no income from Sentinel now... I'm trying to strike out on my own... people around me say it's a good thing... I KNOW Marilou would say it's a good thing... gives me more liberty to be myself..I've got a nice guy renting a room for three months... I'm trying....but..

Tonight...those four and a half months seem like it was only yesterday. Aren't I supposed to be getting on with my life? Is sitting here writing this with tears running down my cheeks and my nose running into my mouth... is that getting on with my life?  I don't know, honestly.  What is this? Is this what it's going to be like for a long, long time to come? It doesn't feel tonight like I'm making much progress.

But I'll keep at it... the Lord has been near and has given me a number of promises as I have been spending more time in His Word. He has been patient with me as I have, even still, asked "Why? I don't understand!!" I even had some thoughts that she got the better of this deal. She didn't suffer much, she didn't suffer long, and boom she's with Jesus. And here I am trying to figure out.. "What is this?"  OK, it's grief...OK

....'till next time...