Saturday, November 19, 2016

This gift.

A friend (who does not know what we are going through) messaged me this link today.

I read it.  Then I read it out loud to Dean.

We were both just quiet.

Few things have been so perfectly written for where we are right now.  All of it.

After I read it I remembered blogging several years ago, shortly after adopting Zihao and Taizi. We were at the Oregon Coast. I can feel the moment.

Dean and the kids were sitting by the fire on the beach, it was dark. I walked to the shore.  I heard God speak.  Yes...I did.  Audible...inaudible...I would never say which. I just know I heard him. For sure. So much so, that it startled me and I whipped my head.

"Janice...I have such great things in store for you..."

I still remember thinking "YES! It's finally my turn for easy street!!" I mean, let's be honest. The last several years have been one hard surrender only to be followed but a much harder surrender a few years later.  And ... repeat.  Hearing that great things were in store for me...I mean, really. This...this was what I was waiting for!

He continued...

"Great Sacrifice...

Great Surrender...

Great Reward..."

I remember my heart sinking. No...please no. This is much too heavy. No...please.  And at the time...had no idea what He was talking about. Assuming it was the daily hard of parenting a child with profound special needs.

No...no...it wasn't.

Now I'm there.

And....woah.

Today, we played music as Dean was making breakfast. This song came on. It's old.  And every single word hit me as if I had written it myself.  This...this is where I am. This is exactly my cry. Right now.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qEz2PsLJ-RI


Take a minute and read about The Gift.

http://www.lisaleonard.com/blog/the-meaning-behind/the-unexpected-gift

Sunday, November 13, 2016

Grief. In all of its glory.

The quiet ache all day long...that almost takes over at the end of the day.

Hiding behind your smile ... because you can do that.  But when alone it all hits you.  And in a moment it feels like you just...can't.

I don't know where you are. But I do know I'm not alone here.  Whatever your pain is...somehow we all end up on the same path don't we?

Grief.  I've felt every horrific stage of it.  From the devastating heartbreak...to the anger that could likely be categorized as 'righteous' (well, momentarily anyway)...to the fight mode that kicks in and surprisingly lasts for weeks with inexplicable energy and vigor...to the total utter exhaustion that follows it...to the sudden realization that all this pain and horror was not a bad dream but indeed...your reality.

Grief.

Though I've cried a million tears on many different moments...somehow it feels like this whole story wasn't real.

Is it possible to love so deeply...to give so much...and lose more than you can fathom?

It is.

Is it possible to look back over moments that you clearly lived...and in some sense, perhaps even lived well...and wonder if you watched it on tv instead?

It is.

Is it possible to be so in the moment and intentional and yet look back and see nothing but a blur of moments that have gotten you to the here and now?

It is.

Is it possible to survive what you simply have always known that you never could?

It is.

Is it possible to actually feel you have used up your tank of tears and start to worry they may actually be forever gone?

It...is.

Is it possible to ever sleep in peace again?

I am told...it is.

Is it possible to have such deep soul friendships that are safe enough to be transparent at every stage of the journey and they will actually find a way to love you all the more for it?

It most certainly is.

Tonight I was looking up Narnia quotes to paint in Zion and Azlan's room. (Yes...he's named after Aslan and yes he's all lion). I saw this one.  And somehow it reminded me to keep fighting.  To find passion again.  I could feel that heart beat quicken and though I had tears...I had a smile again.

Lucy: "Why didn't you come in roaring and save us like last time?"
Aslan "Things never happen the same way twice, dear one."

I did indeed hope...pray...and perhaps even beg that He would come in roaring like a lion and rescue us.  He didn't. Not that way, at least.  That doesn't mean He isn't rescuing us.

And...you.