Be Still

What does that mean? For the longest time I thought it meant be still in action. I couldn't understand how one was supposed to stop pursuing dreams or asking God for what they wanted. How could you just be satisfied with things as they are without wanting more or working for more? How could you be still?? And what's with the last part of the verse "... and know that I am God." I know who you are God, what does being still have to do with it? I never quite understood that verse... until now.

Being still isn't a state of being it's a state of mind.  It's a stillness of spirit, a peacefulness within, the assurance inside that tells you everything will be okay and will work out because God is in control. That's what the last part means. "Know that I am God" and I can handle all things and do all things and work all things for your good.'

I finally feel at peace and a gentle stillness inside. Although I'm not still in action I'm still in spirit and I'm confident and sure of myself again. Last year was hard and I got the rug ripped out from under me in an instant. I lost my footing and lost my confidence but it has slowly come back over time and is now rooted in Christ so it's gentle yet firm, not a flaky confidence that crumbles easily.

I know what I want. I also know what I had and I'll always cherish that. And if I never have that again I'm fine with that now. But that is what I want. I want to have love like that again, or something like it. So in this season of waiting I will be still in spirit and know that God will provide.

But I won't be still in action. I have plans for this new year. My list of goals for 2018 are...

1) Decide on getting a second master's or not
2) Join a volunteer organization in my community
3) Finish my CEUs
4) Finish writing my book
5) Lose 20 lbs (to start)
6) Buy a house
7) Mark's Star trip
8) Dance again!
9) Stomp grapes
10) Go skydiving (iFly first)
11) Play tennis more
12) Go camping
13) Bourbon trail girls trip
14) Disney world
15) Host more game/karaoke nights
16) Get a tattoo
17) Decorate Mark's bar on the patio
18) Finish my 2017 photo books
19) Buy my own kayak
20) Ride a bike again

Sleep

I used to not be able to sleep without you here in bed with me.
I would wait up for you to come home.
I always worried about you...
     If you were okay.
          If you were safe.
               If you were coming home.
I couldn't sleep.
If only I could sleep.

I always tried to wait for you but the hours would tick by.
I would fall asleep but never for long.
I'd wake, stretch my arm to reach for you,
     Check your side of the bed.
          Check the time.
               Check my phone.
I couldn't sleep.
If only I could sleep.

I never could really sleep without you here in bed with me.
But I've learned how to live...
     With an empty bed,
          And an empty house.
               And empty arms.

Now I don't have to worry about where you are.
I don't have to worry if you're safe.
I don't have to wait up or worry if you're coming home.
I know you're not.

I can sleep peacefully because I know...
     You are already home.
          And you're safe.
               And you're in good hands.

I can sleep.
Now if only I could sleep.

Speak To Me, I'm Listening

We're going on a year since Mark moved to heaven. What a difference a year makes! I  don't know who came up with the notion  that a year is adequate time to grieve, there's no time limit or order to processing grief, but there is something to it. I can say I'm doing a lot better than I was 9, 6, even 3 months ago.

There's something about coming up to the year anniversary that shifts things a little. The sting of it is not as strong. The hole in my heart is still there and the loneliness is still there but it's not as crippling. I don't feel suffocated by my grief like I used to. I'm learning to live again, learning to live with the vacancy left by my sweet husband. I'm settling in to my solitude and leaning in to my calling.

When Mark passed I remember making the choice to be the light. It was in those initial days after his passing, before the funeral. I was heartbroken in the worst way. I couldn't breathe, couldn't function, I just kept cursing and drinking to numb the pain. Just recalling that night brings me to tears. It was horrible. But in those initial gut- wrenching moments I felt a tiny sense of peace and the calling to "be a lighthouse" to others in a storm. I responded. I chose to be obedient. I chose to be the light.

Everything I post on social media is purposeful. I didn't over-share because I have no filter. I share because I'm being transparent, because I'm being a lighthouse for those that come behind me. I heard the call and I answered and I hope that I've helped at least one person deal with grief or life's troubles, or treasure life maybe a little bit more than they used to.

We, as a society, don't know how to deal with loss or delayed gratification, and we definitely don't know how to deal with grief. We are so used to having it all, or at least having the ability to get it. We don't like when things are taken from us. We don't like to lose. We give every kid on the team a trophy because we don't want to hurt their feelings. We shield our kids from death and dying because it's sad and sometimes not pretty. We shield them because it hurts deeply and that's scary. So we, as kids, grow up to fear death and when it happens to us we don't know how to deal with it. We've never HAD to. We've never been taught. In other countries they know heartache. They don't have access to medical care or basic essentials like we do and they fall ill and die, or in some countries are murdered, so death is a way of life. They accept it and deal with it and move forward. They honor the dead. We hide from it. We mask it with pills or drugs or alcohol or sex or any other "poison." We don't process and grieve in a healthy way.

I was called to be the light, to be a lighthouse in the storm. In my own pain I surrendered to God and my calling and shared my journey every step of the way. I don't know what's next for me. I feel a strong pulling at my heart to give more of myself to His work. I don't know if that will be stepping out in leadership at church, or writing a book, or speaking publicly. I don't know what that looks like, I'm still waiting on leadership from God to know where to step next, I just know it's happening.

I've felt the calling slowly over the years and then all at once. I've grown in my faith exponentially this past year. But it didn't all happen in one year. When I look back at memories or Facebook posts or think back I am reminded of prayers that I wrote down or dreams that I had that now seem more prophetic in nature than random dreams. Like the dream I had in 2013 (?) when I raised my hands in worship and was being pulled up to heaven. Or the prayer I prayed for God to help me lead and teach others and give me a platform and the words to say (I prayed and posted this prayer back in 2013). Or the blog posts I wrote in years past. All of these things seem to be part of a bigger plan or quilt that's slowly coming together. It's beginning to make more sense.

I'm still on my journey. I still miss my husband deeply but I feel more at peace now. God gave me peace and faith the size of a mustard seed at first but it's grown and is still growing. I'm learning to walk faithfully, not frantically. I'm lonely but not desperate. I'm brokenhearted but not crushed. I'm learning how to be still but moving forward. I'm learning that being still is not NOT moving. It's a stillness of spirit, not action. It's a peace and stillness from within. I'm settling into my singleness and my purpose. Who knows what the future holds; look how much changed in one year! We shall see. I'll continue to go where I'm led. He's never steered me wrong.

"I'm in awe that You would come to me
In awe that I could hear You speak.
Speak to me. I'm listening."~ Speak To Me by Kari Jobe