Sometimes the way to move forward is actually to throw an
anchor. To profoundly commit. To steady yourself in a
drifting world and say,
"This is who I am. This is how it will be."
Maybe the journey is to find resolve- and discover
something beautiful in the process.
Until this morning I didn't know who Dennis Fullman was
and I had no idea that reading his words would change my life
or result in his blog post. You may not have heard of Dennis either.
If you saw his picture, you might notice that his well worn face has a smile that touches deep in your heart.
When I read his story and saw a picture of Dennis I said aloud,
"That's someone I want to know."
Before saying more about Dennis, it makes sense to share a bit of the backstory of our lives...Bert's and mine. The words don't come easily, but the tears do. This morning as the snow gently blankets the trees and the fireplace spreads a steady warmth over our home, it's as good a time as any to talk about Bert and talk about Dennis.
The first words Dennis wrote took my breath away...
" When things get back to normal" is something we never say anymore. I have terminal cancer, so nothing is normal. No day or year, because it's all pretty tumultuous with the medical ups and downs. But the truth is , I think we've found something better than "normal" days. My wife, Lilly, calls it tunnel vision- "the good kind." Because we are choosing to be intentional and live with resolve every single day. We've chosen not to look too far ahead
and not to get stuck in sorrow. We stay focused on the present day.
We steady ourselves committed to each other, living this life
as well as we can, resolved in our desire to finish well, no matter
how many days I have left on the earth."
Dennis Fullman (1952-2019)
"Resolved in our desire to finish well" keeps echoing through
my mind and heart. Not his desire to finish well, not her desire to finish well. But our desire to finish well.
I said out loud..."That's it! That's what we are doing too, Bert and I. We are living with resolve, committed to each other, and we are resolved to live this part of life as well as we can...resolved in our desire to finish well.
It's not easy to talk about death and dying. It makes people uncomfortable. When someone we love is ever so slowly but surely heading to the finish line of their life, we don't know what to say
or do. Should we cheer them on? Should we say everything that is in our hearts? Should we move toward them instead of slowly inching away because of our own fears and discomforts?
What I know for sure is that after 35 plus years of being married to my beloved Bert that I love him now more than ever. I don't know
how many days, weeks or months he has left, but my deepest heart of hearts knows he could be gone tomorrow. Yet there is a peacefulness and resolve in Bert that I have seen every day since I met him.
The nurses who are helping to care for Bert constantly tell me how wonderful he is, how giving and open his heart is, and how he talks to them about how much he loves me. On their last visit to our home I said aloud, "I should probably get things in order" meaning things that will happen after Bert dies. Erin looked at me with tears in her eyes and said, "I would do that sooner rather than later."
Then, without skipping a beat, we went on to talk about the
kind of man Bert is and that how he is dying with grace and love and dignity and humor is a mirror of how he has been living all of these years.
Bert loves and trusts God completely. He lives the words,
"Put your hand in the hand of the Man who stilled the waters,
Put your hand in the hand of the Man who calmed the sea..."
Almost every day Bert tells me that he couldn't love me more.
I tell him that if his soul goes home to God first, when it's my time to go, my soul will find his soul. If I go first, his soul will find my soul when he goes home to God. And if we go home to God at the same time, our souls will hold hands as we make that last journey."
We are living with resolve in our desire to live well and finish well, no matter how many days Bert has left on this earth.
And we are so grateful to God for holding us in this last part of the journey.
God Bless!
Love,
Linda
Sunday, December 15, 2019
Saturday, October 19, 2019
Life Lessons From Ava....
Don't Stop Because You Are Tired...
Stop Because You Did
What You Set Out to Do!
-Message on a Mom's t-shirt at the swim meet
I was so excited when I got the text message from my oldest daughter, Jessi, telling me the dates for my grandkid's swim meets. Truth be told, nothing thrills me more than screaming and yelling my head off in celebration for whatever my precious grandkids love doing.
Emma and Owen love swimming and put their heart and soul into it.
Saturday afternoon I sat and yelled for Emma. She cuts through the water like a knife and makes backstrokes and butterflies and free styles look easy and effortless. Her passion for life comes through in how she does most everything in her life.
I love that at one swim meet she grinned at me and said, "Nana, I could hear you yelling for me at the bottom of the pool!"
Mission accomplished!
You see for Bert and for me, aka Nana and Boppa, it isn't about where you place that matters. What matters is that you are doing something you love and you pour your whole heart into it.
Sunday morning I trekked out again to the Whitworth pool to see Owen swim. Owen, known as O by all of us who love him, is such a unique soul. I absolutely love the dragon drawing he did for me. I love seeing him swim and yell his heart out for his buddies, Aiden and Liam. They may be little, but they are powerful. They cheer each other on as if there is no tomorrow. They don't hold back their love and enthusiasm, nor do they look around slightly embarrassed because they are making a scene.
Seahawks fans have screaming and yelling down to a fine science. Owen and his best friends give them a run for their money in the "I AM ROOTING for YOU!" department.
And then there was Ava.
Lord have mercy!
This little sweetie was just six years old, as big as a minute,
and it was her very first swim meet.
The pool dwarfed her as she stood in awe looking at the other swimmers, looking at the giant pool, and then glancing at her parents who were waving and praying for her not to drown.
As her Mama said, "Please God don't have her go to the bottom and I'll need to jump in and rescue her."
The tiny swimmers, some seasoned by being in a number of meets, took off for the half way mark, their arms and hands cutting through the water. There was a whole pack of them
racing for the half way point.
And then there was Ava.
Way behind, each stroke seeming to take all her energy.
Dear sweet baby Jesus, I thought we were all going to sweat bullets with her every arm movement and leg kick.
As she swam, you could see her glance over to the stands. Her eyes weren't on the pool as much as they were on her Mama and Daddy and her cheering section.
The other swimmers had eased back to the finish line and Ava had just barely reached the half way point.
They all stood frozen, watching her, mesmerized by her guts and determination.
What I loved most was seeing her, at the half way point, cling to the edge of the pool with one hand, and send a big huge wave and grin to the stands with her other teeny, tiny hand.
She wasn't self conscious because she was way, way last...
she was conscious that a whole room of people, young and old, believed in her and knew she could do what she had set out to do.
With tears streaming down my face as I looked at her tiny swim suit and cap, she started to swim for the finish.
All the other swimmers had made their mark long ago, but no one really cared.
The star of the show was Ava.
Her determination and "I can do hard things" attitude had the whole swim center on their feet, screaming her name and clapping until their hands were raw.
I can't even recall this moment without crying again myself.
I will never, ever forget it.
Her parents were on their feet, gesturing to the end of the pool, waving their arms and screaming her name.
When she made it to the end of the race, the grin on her face said it all...
I knew I could do it because you believed in me.
In that moment, I felt like I finally understood, at the very deepest level, what we can accomplish when someone believes in us and cheers us on from the sidelines.
I also realized that many children growing up don't have a cheering section, people who yell their name and clap their hands in glee, no matter what they are doing. Big or small.
I cried because Ava was so blessed to have a family who believed in her and I cried for all the children who don't have that same cheering section.
I'll never, ever forget the look on Ava's face as she pulled herself out of the pool and turned to face her cheering section.
She came in dead last. Last by a mile. The race had been over
some time ago.
But no one cared where she came in.
She was exhausted but didn't let that stop her. She personified the quote on the Mom's t-shirt I had seen earlier...
Don't stop because you're tired.
Stop because you did what you set out to do.
And the crowd that had cheered her on? The folks of all ages that had called out her name? Our faces were all aglow.
High fives were being passed around between complete strangers. We had all seen such courage in motion in a tiny six year old girl with a huge heart.
She knew she was loved. She knew her family believed in her.
And she knew she could accomplish anything!
Thanks for the life-lesson Ava!
God Bless!
Love, Linda
Stop Because You Did
What You Set Out to Do!
-Message on a Mom's t-shirt at the swim meet
I was so excited when I got the text message from my oldest daughter, Jessi, telling me the dates for my grandkid's swim meets. Truth be told, nothing thrills me more than screaming and yelling my head off in celebration for whatever my precious grandkids love doing.
Emma and Owen love swimming and put their heart and soul into it.
Saturday afternoon I sat and yelled for Emma. She cuts through the water like a knife and makes backstrokes and butterflies and free styles look easy and effortless. Her passion for life comes through in how she does most everything in her life.
I love that at one swim meet she grinned at me and said, "Nana, I could hear you yelling for me at the bottom of the pool!"
Mission accomplished!
You see for Bert and for me, aka Nana and Boppa, it isn't about where you place that matters. What matters is that you are doing something you love and you pour your whole heart into it.
Sunday morning I trekked out again to the Whitworth pool to see Owen swim. Owen, known as O by all of us who love him, is such a unique soul. I absolutely love the dragon drawing he did for me. I love seeing him swim and yell his heart out for his buddies, Aiden and Liam. They may be little, but they are powerful. They cheer each other on as if there is no tomorrow. They don't hold back their love and enthusiasm, nor do they look around slightly embarrassed because they are making a scene.
Seahawks fans have screaming and yelling down to a fine science. Owen and his best friends give them a run for their money in the "I AM ROOTING for YOU!" department.
And then there was Ava.
Lord have mercy!
This little sweetie was just six years old, as big as a minute,
and it was her very first swim meet.
The pool dwarfed her as she stood in awe looking at the other swimmers, looking at the giant pool, and then glancing at her parents who were waving and praying for her not to drown.
As her Mama said, "Please God don't have her go to the bottom and I'll need to jump in and rescue her."
The tiny swimmers, some seasoned by being in a number of meets, took off for the half way mark, their arms and hands cutting through the water. There was a whole pack of them
racing for the half way point.
And then there was Ava.
Way behind, each stroke seeming to take all her energy.
Dear sweet baby Jesus, I thought we were all going to sweat bullets with her every arm movement and leg kick.
As she swam, you could see her glance over to the stands. Her eyes weren't on the pool as much as they were on her Mama and Daddy and her cheering section.
The other swimmers had eased back to the finish line and Ava had just barely reached the half way point.
They all stood frozen, watching her, mesmerized by her guts and determination.
What I loved most was seeing her, at the half way point, cling to the edge of the pool with one hand, and send a big huge wave and grin to the stands with her other teeny, tiny hand.
She wasn't self conscious because she was way, way last...
she was conscious that a whole room of people, young and old, believed in her and knew she could do what she had set out to do.
With tears streaming down my face as I looked at her tiny swim suit and cap, she started to swim for the finish.
All the other swimmers had made their mark long ago, but no one really cared.
The star of the show was Ava.
Her determination and "I can do hard things" attitude had the whole swim center on their feet, screaming her name and clapping until their hands were raw.
I can't even recall this moment without crying again myself.
I will never, ever forget it.
Her parents were on their feet, gesturing to the end of the pool, waving their arms and screaming her name.
When she made it to the end of the race, the grin on her face said it all...
I knew I could do it because you believed in me.
In that moment, I felt like I finally understood, at the very deepest level, what we can accomplish when someone believes in us and cheers us on from the sidelines.
I also realized that many children growing up don't have a cheering section, people who yell their name and clap their hands in glee, no matter what they are doing. Big or small.
I cried because Ava was so blessed to have a family who believed in her and I cried for all the children who don't have that same cheering section.
I'll never, ever forget the look on Ava's face as she pulled herself out of the pool and turned to face her cheering section.
She came in dead last. Last by a mile. The race had been over
some time ago.
But no one cared where she came in.
She was exhausted but didn't let that stop her. She personified the quote on the Mom's t-shirt I had seen earlier...
Don't stop because you're tired.
Stop because you did what you set out to do.
And the crowd that had cheered her on? The folks of all ages that had called out her name? Our faces were all aglow.
High fives were being passed around between complete strangers. We had all seen such courage in motion in a tiny six year old girl with a huge heart.
She knew she was loved. She knew her family believed in her.
And she knew she could accomplish anything!
Thanks for the life-lesson Ava!
God Bless!
Love, Linda
Monday, September 02, 2019
Not Giving Up...
"So we are not giving up! How could we!
Even though on the outside it often looks
like things are falling apart on us, on the
inside, where God is making new life, not
a day goes by without His unfolding grace."
2 Corinthians 4:16
I could barely hear her voice over the phone, yet I recognized the whisper. The moment she said my name, the tears started to flow.
My dear, dear friend Eileen Thompson, my daughter Jessi's mother-in-law, has ALS and little-by-little it has robbed her of walking, using her arms or hands and now it is taking her voice and ability to breathe on her own.
Yet her whisper was so full of life, so full of gratitude that my heart almost burst with love for her.
"They are even more beautiful than the last ones you sent," she said, referring to the flower arrangements I have been sending her about every three weeks. "And the card just made me so happy. I love you, you know."
I managed to whisper, "I love you too, dear friend."
I asked how she was today and the answer is always so amazing that I am left speechless when I hear it.
"I am so blessed," she whispered with certainty. "I have so much to be grateful for."
Now understand, if you will, that Bert and I have had a wonderful yet tough summer with his health issues. Yet I'm not sure that honestly even once, when I have been asked how I was, that I remembered to say that I am blessed.
I managed to ask, "And why are you blessed today, Eileen?"
I ask that question every time we go through this conversation.
She paused and said quietly, "God loves me. I have a purpose in life and I am not giving up."
My dear friend, once again, rendered me speechless. "Are you still there?" she asked and through tears I told her I was. "You know, " she went on, "My job is to pray for everyone all day long. I'm really very busy. I pray for you and Bert every single night."
And I knew she did.
After the conversation, I thought long and hard about gratitude, feeling blessed and not giving up. You see I live with my beloved Bert who, like Eileen, doesn't give up either. And like Eileen, his gratitude for even the smallest things fills a room with joy.
How blessed I am to be reminded of God's love.
How blessed I am to have a friend like Eileen, who trusts God with all her heart and lives her purpose every day.
How blessed I am to have spent the last 35 years married to my beloved Bert.
Every day with him is a miracle!
Yes, like Paul said in Corinthians...
On the outside it may look like things are falling apart on us, but on the inside God is at work
sharing His unfolding grace!
What a great reminder.
How are you Linda?
I am blessed and I will not give up!
Sending loves, hugs and prayers your way!
Linda
Even though on the outside it often looks
like things are falling apart on us, on the
inside, where God is making new life, not
a day goes by without His unfolding grace."
2 Corinthians 4:16
I could barely hear her voice over the phone, yet I recognized the whisper. The moment she said my name, the tears started to flow.
My dear, dear friend Eileen Thompson, my daughter Jessi's mother-in-law, has ALS and little-by-little it has robbed her of walking, using her arms or hands and now it is taking her voice and ability to breathe on her own.
Yet her whisper was so full of life, so full of gratitude that my heart almost burst with love for her.
"They are even more beautiful than the last ones you sent," she said, referring to the flower arrangements I have been sending her about every three weeks. "And the card just made me so happy. I love you, you know."
I managed to whisper, "I love you too, dear friend."
I asked how she was today and the answer is always so amazing that I am left speechless when I hear it.
"I am so blessed," she whispered with certainty. "I have so much to be grateful for."
Now understand, if you will, that Bert and I have had a wonderful yet tough summer with his health issues. Yet I'm not sure that honestly even once, when I have been asked how I was, that I remembered to say that I am blessed.
I managed to ask, "And why are you blessed today, Eileen?"
I ask that question every time we go through this conversation.
She paused and said quietly, "God loves me. I have a purpose in life and I am not giving up."
My dear friend, once again, rendered me speechless. "Are you still there?" she asked and through tears I told her I was. "You know, " she went on, "My job is to pray for everyone all day long. I'm really very busy. I pray for you and Bert every single night."
And I knew she did.
After the conversation, I thought long and hard about gratitude, feeling blessed and not giving up. You see I live with my beloved Bert who, like Eileen, doesn't give up either. And like Eileen, his gratitude for even the smallest things fills a room with joy.
How blessed I am to be reminded of God's love.
How blessed I am to have a friend like Eileen, who trusts God with all her heart and lives her purpose every day.
How blessed I am to have spent the last 35 years married to my beloved Bert.
Every day with him is a miracle!
Yes, like Paul said in Corinthians...
On the outside it may look like things are falling apart on us, but on the inside God is at work
sharing His unfolding grace!
What a great reminder.
How are you Linda?
I am blessed and I will not give up!
Sending loves, hugs and prayers your way!
Linda
Tuesday, August 20, 2019
A Hint of Autumn...
"Autumn shows us how
to let things go."
Last night I was sitting out on the old swing in our back yard, bundled up in the quilt that resides there, with Daisy our sweet doggy snuggled down in the fabric with me. It was twilight, still a bit warm, and I could feel a peace start to encompass my spirit. I said out loud...
"Thy will, not my will, Lord."
Daisy startled a bit, hearing a real human voice, and looked at me with those inquiring eyes as if to say, "Can't we stay here and swing back and forth just a bit longer?" I replied with tears starting to stream down my face, "Ok girl, just a bit longer."
I surveyed the garden, still rich with plants flowering, yet the edges of weariness starting to creep up their stems.
This garden and this swing and this precious puppy dog have been my haven this summer, my safe place to go. Tears here have a place that don't invite hard questions or wonderings that I simply don't have answers to.
What I know for sure is that while I have the questions, God has the answers. He is here in this garden, this safe place that I can let down the care-taking and just take a deep breath.
Then, while holding Daisy close and stroking her fur in a rhythmic motion she always loves, I happen to look over to one
of my favorite trees in our back yard and an "Oh, no" escaped my lips.
When I looked closely, even in this dusking twilight, I could see it there, the tiny stripes of red and yellow on the once green leaves.
I knew, so I said it out loud, "Ah, there's that hint of autumn."
I also knew I wasn't ready to let go...
Not ready to let go of summer, not ready to let go of more relaxed family time, and most of all... not ready to let go of my
beloved Bert.
Just that thought moved me to tears and soon Daisy was licking the tears on my face and snuggling in close.
Mostly she does that with Bert these days as she knows something is very wrong and he is very ill. She snuggles in close to him, puts her chin on his hand or leg, and comforts him any way she can.
Now, she has started to do that same ritual to me. She knows that my heart is breaking and that letting go of Bert, when it's his time to go home to God, will be the hardest thing I have ever had to do.
Bert loves autumn. It's his favorite season with all its colors and he has a birthday coming up on September 12th. We are so grateful for every day Bert is here. We are so grateful for all the blessings God has bestowed on us. One of the blessings is that we have a host of dear folks praying for us. My dear friend Jackie has been on her knees praying for Bert and praying for me. I am so, so grateful for every prayer and for every day I have with Bert.
There's a little bit of summer time left and the full glow of wondrous autumn is still on the horizon. But it will come. It is right around the corner.
Just as the leaves are transitioning, so is my beloved.
For every time there is a season and what we know for sure is that God is good all the time! He is here with us and will not forsake us. He will carry us in every season.
"They will, not my will, Lord!"
God bless!
Love, Linda
to let things go."
Last night I was sitting out on the old swing in our back yard, bundled up in the quilt that resides there, with Daisy our sweet doggy snuggled down in the fabric with me. It was twilight, still a bit warm, and I could feel a peace start to encompass my spirit. I said out loud...
"Thy will, not my will, Lord."
Daisy startled a bit, hearing a real human voice, and looked at me with those inquiring eyes as if to say, "Can't we stay here and swing back and forth just a bit longer?" I replied with tears starting to stream down my face, "Ok girl, just a bit longer."
I surveyed the garden, still rich with plants flowering, yet the edges of weariness starting to creep up their stems.
This garden and this swing and this precious puppy dog have been my haven this summer, my safe place to go. Tears here have a place that don't invite hard questions or wonderings that I simply don't have answers to.
What I know for sure is that while I have the questions, God has the answers. He is here in this garden, this safe place that I can let down the care-taking and just take a deep breath.
Then, while holding Daisy close and stroking her fur in a rhythmic motion she always loves, I happen to look over to one
of my favorite trees in our back yard and an "Oh, no" escaped my lips.
When I looked closely, even in this dusking twilight, I could see it there, the tiny stripes of red and yellow on the once green leaves.
I knew, so I said it out loud, "Ah, there's that hint of autumn."
I also knew I wasn't ready to let go...
Not ready to let go of summer, not ready to let go of more relaxed family time, and most of all... not ready to let go of my
beloved Bert.
Just that thought moved me to tears and soon Daisy was licking the tears on my face and snuggling in close.
Mostly she does that with Bert these days as she knows something is very wrong and he is very ill. She snuggles in close to him, puts her chin on his hand or leg, and comforts him any way she can.
Now, she has started to do that same ritual to me. She knows that my heart is breaking and that letting go of Bert, when it's his time to go home to God, will be the hardest thing I have ever had to do.
Bert loves autumn. It's his favorite season with all its colors and he has a birthday coming up on September 12th. We are so grateful for every day Bert is here. We are so grateful for all the blessings God has bestowed on us. One of the blessings is that we have a host of dear folks praying for us. My dear friend Jackie has been on her knees praying for Bert and praying for me. I am so, so grateful for every prayer and for every day I have with Bert.
There's a little bit of summer time left and the full glow of wondrous autumn is still on the horizon. But it will come. It is right around the corner.
Just as the leaves are transitioning, so is my beloved.
For every time there is a season and what we know for sure is that God is good all the time! He is here with us and will not forsake us. He will carry us in every season.
"They will, not my will, Lord!"
God bless!
Love, Linda
Tuesday, July 23, 2019
Put your hand in the hand...
"Put your hand in the hand of the Man
who stilled the waters,
Put your hand in the hand of the Man
who calmed the sea."
This morning, when I clicked on a post by Bonnie Gray, my heart almost stopped. I read her first sentence and the tears started to flow. It said what I haven't been able to say out loud....
Sometimes you run out of words.
Most folks could not imagine that sentence could apply to me.
*After all, I am a heavy extrovert.
*After all, I am a teacher who teaches communication classes.
*After all, I love verbal exchanges that are real and authentic.
Run out of words, you might be thinking.
Not Linda?
Yet every time I have tried to turn to this blog and put down what I have been feeling and experiencing, I have felt so overwhelmed that I just couldn't do it. After all, it would make it all seem very real if I found the words to tell the whole story, or even a small part of it.
I've asked God, time and time again, for the words to put down, hoping if I did I might find some peace in the process.
Yet what has come up, during this very painful time. is a simple verse from the Bible that used to make me smile...
"Be still and know that I am God!"
This time I actually listened. I have worked on being still and sitting and praying, constantly turning my overwhelm over to Him.
His shoulders are strong, and I have put my hand in His hand.
Just as He promised, He has carried me.
The gist of what is going on, as simply put as I can make it is this...
The loss of dear ones, ones so close to my heart,
has broken my heart.
While it may sound over-dramatic to some...the truth is that my heart feels broken. In the midst of many good things and blessings,
in the midst of great joys and gratitude, the loss of dear ones has me flabbergasted, almost speechless.
When Vicky Westra died and went home to God last October 13th,
I knew that her death was on the horizon. While I didn't know exactly when she would be gone from earth, she knew and I knew
it would be soon. We called each other "soul sisters," Vicky and I.
We were so real with each other and did so with a sense of comfort and safety. During the last weeks of her life we texted back and forth every day. I was a sort of a "surrogate Mom" for her, she used to say.
When I saw Rick's post In God's Hands...I knew she was gone.
Yet I had no idea, absolutely no idea how big the hole would be with her absence. Like many others, I miss her every day.
At night when I'm out on the swing in our back yard, and the tears start to flow about Vicky, I practice putting my hand in the hand of Jesus...knowing He understands great loss.
Then, Ann Price, my dear friend and neighbor was diagnosed, out of the blue, with stage 4 pancreatic cancer. Her memorial service was this last Saturday.
Joe Feryn, a dear friend of my daughters and in his 40s, passed away from leukemia, and his service is next Saturday.
Our dear neighbor, Julia, who is 12 is fighting a wilm's tumor and isn't expected to live a long life.
My dear friend Eileen Thompson has ALS and is in assisted living with her husband Rog Sr.
Jackie, my forever friend, found out that her dear Daddy has leukemia.
Sharon's precious Scoutie has cancer.
The list goes on and on....
With each loss, and trying to support those who are left behind,
I have had some very tough conversations with God. I know that He does not give people cancer, or other illnesses, yet I am so sad and mad to lose these wonderful, wonderful folks. Everyone who knew them and loved them is grieving.
And on my own home front, my beloved Bert has been very ill and
has nursing care coming to our home. I know God holds my beloved in the palm of His hand....
Yes, sometimes you just run out of words.
What I know for sure is that God didn't promise me that I wouldn't lose loved ones. Yet what He did promise me is that He would be
with me in the hard losses. He will never leave me or forsake me.
He knows that my heart is broken and He gently holds my broken heart in the palm of His almighty hand. He understands loss. When I put my hand in His, I have a sense in the midst of the hurt, that...
"All is well...no matter what, all is well."
He also reminds me to be grateful that these wonderful people have been in my life. What a blessing it is, and has been, to share my life with them. I loved them with my whole heart, just like they loved me that way too.
So, for today, I am focusing on gratitude. I am grateful that God led me to Bonnnie's post. Her sentence "sometimes you run out of words" was truly a gift from God. It helped to dislodge my overwhelm. It helped me to remember that God is with me in every loss, and I can put my hand in His hand and all is well!
And for that blessing... I am so, so grateful!
Sending you loves, hugs and prayers!
God Bless!
Love, Linda
who stilled the waters,
Put your hand in the hand of the Man
who calmed the sea."
This morning, when I clicked on a post by Bonnie Gray, my heart almost stopped. I read her first sentence and the tears started to flow. It said what I haven't been able to say out loud....
Sometimes you run out of words.
Most folks could not imagine that sentence could apply to me.
*After all, I am a heavy extrovert.
*After all, I am a teacher who teaches communication classes.
*After all, I love verbal exchanges that are real and authentic.
Run out of words, you might be thinking.
Not Linda?
Yet every time I have tried to turn to this blog and put down what I have been feeling and experiencing, I have felt so overwhelmed that I just couldn't do it. After all, it would make it all seem very real if I found the words to tell the whole story, or even a small part of it.
I've asked God, time and time again, for the words to put down, hoping if I did I might find some peace in the process.
Yet what has come up, during this very painful time. is a simple verse from the Bible that used to make me smile...
"Be still and know that I am God!"
This time I actually listened. I have worked on being still and sitting and praying, constantly turning my overwhelm over to Him.
His shoulders are strong, and I have put my hand in His hand.
Just as He promised, He has carried me.
The gist of what is going on, as simply put as I can make it is this...
The loss of dear ones, ones so close to my heart,
has broken my heart.
While it may sound over-dramatic to some...the truth is that my heart feels broken. In the midst of many good things and blessings,
in the midst of great joys and gratitude, the loss of dear ones has me flabbergasted, almost speechless.
When Vicky Westra died and went home to God last October 13th,
I knew that her death was on the horizon. While I didn't know exactly when she would be gone from earth, she knew and I knew
it would be soon. We called each other "soul sisters," Vicky and I.
We were so real with each other and did so with a sense of comfort and safety. During the last weeks of her life we texted back and forth every day. I was a sort of a "surrogate Mom" for her, she used to say.
When I saw Rick's post In God's Hands...I knew she was gone.
Yet I had no idea, absolutely no idea how big the hole would be with her absence. Like many others, I miss her every day.
At night when I'm out on the swing in our back yard, and the tears start to flow about Vicky, I practice putting my hand in the hand of Jesus...knowing He understands great loss.
Then, Ann Price, my dear friend and neighbor was diagnosed, out of the blue, with stage 4 pancreatic cancer. Her memorial service was this last Saturday.
Joe Feryn, a dear friend of my daughters and in his 40s, passed away from leukemia, and his service is next Saturday.
Our dear neighbor, Julia, who is 12 is fighting a wilm's tumor and isn't expected to live a long life.
My dear friend Eileen Thompson has ALS and is in assisted living with her husband Rog Sr.
Jackie, my forever friend, found out that her dear Daddy has leukemia.
Sharon's precious Scoutie has cancer.
The list goes on and on....
With each loss, and trying to support those who are left behind,
I have had some very tough conversations with God. I know that He does not give people cancer, or other illnesses, yet I am so sad and mad to lose these wonderful, wonderful folks. Everyone who knew them and loved them is grieving.
And on my own home front, my beloved Bert has been very ill and
has nursing care coming to our home. I know God holds my beloved in the palm of His hand....
Yes, sometimes you just run out of words.
What I know for sure is that God didn't promise me that I wouldn't lose loved ones. Yet what He did promise me is that He would be
with me in the hard losses. He will never leave me or forsake me.
He knows that my heart is broken and He gently holds my broken heart in the palm of His almighty hand. He understands loss. When I put my hand in His, I have a sense in the midst of the hurt, that...
"All is well...no matter what, all is well."
He also reminds me to be grateful that these wonderful people have been in my life. What a blessing it is, and has been, to share my life with them. I loved them with my whole heart, just like they loved me that way too.
So, for today, I am focusing on gratitude. I am grateful that God led me to Bonnnie's post. Her sentence "sometimes you run out of words" was truly a gift from God. It helped to dislodge my overwhelm. It helped me to remember that God is with me in every loss, and I can put my hand in His hand and all is well!
And for that blessing... I am so, so grateful!
Sending you loves, hugs and prayers!
God Bless!
Love, Linda
Saturday, March 30, 2019
A Promise...
I hope you remember....
that I can't make this life easier,
but I promise to walk with you always!
-Edie Wentworth
I was up early that morning for some much needed meditation and prayer time. I had felt restless and off-base
the day before and I had barely slept that night. I've never been a great sleeper, one of those folks who drifts off in a heart-beat and then slumbers without a whimper. My beloved Bert is like that. When he is out, he is OUT. Almost nothing wakes him up until his internal alarm clock says that it is time to get going.
I, on the other hand, am usually up at 3:00 am. I'm ready to go and make it a great day. Yet on this particular morning
I had tossed and turned all night long. So my "Get up prayer" instead of "Thanks!" was "Help!"
So I finally just got up, put on my warm and fuzzy robe and well-worn comfy sandals, got a fresh cup of coffee and quietly headed out the back door. There were still splotches of snow. Yet more of the ground was visible, though it was all very soggy. Remnants from a long winter that just didn't want to quit.
Our old swing was out there, a place Bert and I gravitate to when we wanted to look at the sky or talk about something important.
I noticed as I sat on the swing and started to pray that the rain was gently coming down, almost as if you wouldn't notice its presence. A drop here and a drop there, not even drizzle. Every drop seemed like a reminder of God's presence.
I felt like His spirit was right there with me on that old backyard swing. Somehow I knew that I didn't need to explain to Him what was on my heart.
I knew...
He sees my heart.
He sees your heart.
He knows what we need even before we do.
He knows my heart hurts.
What did manage to escape my lips was something like...
"This isn't fair. It just isn't."
"Help! Please do something to ease her pain."
I was asking Him to draw close to so many dear ones who are hurting right now. Just the day before, when I was working in the front-yard garden and trying to break through a few patches of dirt that were still frozen, a wonderful neighbor stopped by. She lives across the street and almost always comes over to chat when she sees me putzing in the garden. Immediately I noticed that she didn't look quite like herself, but I hadn't seen her for some time.
After all, with this winter of freezing weather and four feet of snow everywhere, we have hardly seen any neighbors more than just to wave. Since everyone was so bundled up, there have been times I wasn't entirely sure I knew who I had just waved at.
So this neighbor's visit was a welcome sign of spring.
Then when our dear friend started the conversation by saying, "I didn't want to you hear this from someone else, but this winter I have been battling cancer," my heart just sank.
Not any cancer, mind you, but one of the big ones where the recovery rate is minuscule.
Her words took my breath away and other faces popped up in my mind and heart. Suddenly Eileen's face came to mind. She is dying from ALS. Julia, twelve years old and living across the street, is fighting a Wilm's tumor that may take her life. And my beloved Bert's face popped up since he has been so sick lately.
What escaped my lips, on that backyard swing so early in the morning, was "enough!" And then the tears started to flow. I just felt so sad seeing so many good people in pain. Sad and helpless.
No wonder I couldn't sleep.
I couldn't do much, but I could pray.
I couldn't do much, but I could ask others to pray for them.
I couldn't do much, but I could walk with them
through this hurt and pain. I could love them unconditionally
and be a support person they could lean on!
If you believe in the power of prayer, would you please keep Ann, Eileen, Julia and Bert in your prayers? While I can't fix this for them, I can hold their hand and walk through this with them.
Have a blessed day. Sending loves, hugs and prayers your way!
Linda
that I can't make this life easier,
but I promise to walk with you always!
-Edie Wentworth
I was up early that morning for some much needed meditation and prayer time. I had felt restless and off-base
the day before and I had barely slept that night. I've never been a great sleeper, one of those folks who drifts off in a heart-beat and then slumbers without a whimper. My beloved Bert is like that. When he is out, he is OUT. Almost nothing wakes him up until his internal alarm clock says that it is time to get going.
I, on the other hand, am usually up at 3:00 am. I'm ready to go and make it a great day. Yet on this particular morning
I had tossed and turned all night long. So my "Get up prayer" instead of "Thanks!" was "Help!"
So I finally just got up, put on my warm and fuzzy robe and well-worn comfy sandals, got a fresh cup of coffee and quietly headed out the back door. There were still splotches of snow. Yet more of the ground was visible, though it was all very soggy. Remnants from a long winter that just didn't want to quit.
Our old swing was out there, a place Bert and I gravitate to when we wanted to look at the sky or talk about something important.
I noticed as I sat on the swing and started to pray that the rain was gently coming down, almost as if you wouldn't notice its presence. A drop here and a drop there, not even drizzle. Every drop seemed like a reminder of God's presence.
I felt like His spirit was right there with me on that old backyard swing. Somehow I knew that I didn't need to explain to Him what was on my heart.
I knew...
He sees my heart.
He sees your heart.
He knows what we need even before we do.
He knows my heart hurts.
What did manage to escape my lips was something like...
"This isn't fair. It just isn't."
"Help! Please do something to ease her pain."
I was asking Him to draw close to so many dear ones who are hurting right now. Just the day before, when I was working in the front-yard garden and trying to break through a few patches of dirt that were still frozen, a wonderful neighbor stopped by. She lives across the street and almost always comes over to chat when she sees me putzing in the garden. Immediately I noticed that she didn't look quite like herself, but I hadn't seen her for some time.
After all, with this winter of freezing weather and four feet of snow everywhere, we have hardly seen any neighbors more than just to wave. Since everyone was so bundled up, there have been times I wasn't entirely sure I knew who I had just waved at.
So this neighbor's visit was a welcome sign of spring.
Then when our dear friend started the conversation by saying, "I didn't want to you hear this from someone else, but this winter I have been battling cancer," my heart just sank.
Not any cancer, mind you, but one of the big ones where the recovery rate is minuscule.
Her words took my breath away and other faces popped up in my mind and heart. Suddenly Eileen's face came to mind. She is dying from ALS. Julia, twelve years old and living across the street, is fighting a Wilm's tumor that may take her life. And my beloved Bert's face popped up since he has been so sick lately.
What escaped my lips, on that backyard swing so early in the morning, was "enough!" And then the tears started to flow. I just felt so sad seeing so many good people in pain. Sad and helpless.
No wonder I couldn't sleep.
I couldn't do much, but I could pray.
I couldn't do much, but I could ask others to pray for them.
I couldn't do much, but I could walk with them
through this hurt and pain. I could love them unconditionally
and be a support person they could lean on!
If you believe in the power of prayer, would you please keep Ann, Eileen, Julia and Bert in your prayers? While I can't fix this for them, I can hold their hand and walk through this with them.
Have a blessed day. Sending loves, hugs and prayers your way!
Linda
Sunday, March 24, 2019
Loving Life...the best present ever!
She loved life...
and Life Loved Her
Right Back!
Have you ever looked at a piece of clothing and knew it was meant for you, yet you talked yourself right out of it because...
After all, you already have lots of t-shirts.
You could save that money for a rainy day.
You tell yourself you are being extravagant.
So you didn't spoil yourself and later regretted the choice
you made?
I can still see the t-shirt in my mind's eye. I was at Nordstrom, which is not a place I usually shop. Yet my Granddaughter who was adopted from Ethiopia and was in high school, was on Nordies High School Board and had seen a gift she fell in love with. I had asked what she wanted for her birthday. This oh so unselfish young lady, who grew up in such poverty and lived in an orphanage until my daughter adopted her, actually said in a small voice...
"Nana, you asked what I'd like for my birthday. I saw the
most beautiful bracelet with tiny sparkling stones that
look like the stars in the sky. It reminds me of the stars
in Ethiopia. But I feel so selfish asking for that so please
don't worry about getting it for me."
While some teens might use that as manipulation, my sweet granddaughter was just feeling guilty about asking for something for herself.
As soon as I hung up from talking with her, I headed to Nordstrom as I knew where the cherished bracelet might be located. In the Brass Plum, the then teen area of the store.
All the way there my heart was pounding.
Earlier stories about Sihin raced through my mind.
*When they came to bring her home to Spokane, and they had new clothes for her to wear, Sihin gave all her new clothes away to needy children in the orphanage.
*When they were in Ethiopia meeting her for the first time in person, and got her an ice cream cone, she saw a young man staring longingly at it and she walked over and gave him her ice cream.
Yes, the word unselfish describes my precious granddaughter, my Glory Sihin.
So, back to the story of the bracelet and t-shirt. Once out of my car, I walked briskly to the Brass Plum. That's when the t-shirt caught my eye. It was on a mannequin and you couldn't miss it. It was a beautiful pink, almost like the tint of pink in a sunset. The letters were in a beautiful script and it said...
"She loved life
and life loved her right back."
I imagined wearing that t-shirt and just the thought of that
made me smile. But I realized I was on a mission so I found the sparkly bracelet and purchased it for my sweet granddaughter.
The sales girl knew our Sihin and said over and over again how wonderful and unselfish she was. I couldn't stop smiling as I knew those words were true.
Yet, uncharacteristically for me, I couldn't stop thinking about the t-shirt. Once home, I phoned the teen department. The young lady who answered was so apologetic. Yes, it had been sold. Yes, there was only one and it was discontinued. I felt disappointed
but I also knew that I had seen that shirt for a reason.
The message was a reminder that life is so precious. It's easy to take it for granted.
Perhaps later I'll follow my dream.
Perhaps later I'll tell those folks I love them.
When you love life you live it full speed ahead. You know in your deepest heart of hearts that life is a gift. It should be treasured!
When you really love life, you see all of life as a gift, even the things that don't seem gift wrapped.
While I didn't have the shirt, the message would always stay in my heart.
When I got together with my darling granddaughter the next week I couldn't wait to see her eyes when she saw the bracelet. I knew she would be thrilled. I met her downtown at the Nordstrom Cafe' after her work time at Nordies as a board member was over.
When lunch was finished I pulled the small box from my purse, a grin on my face from ear- to- ear. Tears started flowing as I told her how much her Boppa (Bert) and I loved her, how our family had become complete when she joined us. How we knew she also missed Ethiopia, her home country. Maybe when she wore this bracelet, it would remind her of those stars she loved.
Tears streamed down her face and mine. She couldn't stop hugging me.
And then she got a grin on her face, reached in her purse and brought out a wrapped present. I said "What is this sweetie? You shouldn't have." Then it was her turn to tell me what Boppa and I meant to her. How she loved us so, so much and knew we loved her and believed in her. She said, "When I saw this Nana, I thought of you. You, Nana, love life so much and you spread that love to all of your grandkids. We cherish life more because you have taught us to do that."
As I opened the present, there was the t-shirt. My mouth fell open. "How did you?"...was all I could get out. She told me the sales girl, one of her friends on the board, had seen how I looked at the message on the shirt, put my hand on my heart because the message touched me so, and since there was only one left, she took it off the mannequin, just in case Sihin wanted to get it for me.
And that is the end of the story...except it isn't. The best present ever wasn't the t-shirt, it was the love my granddaughter showed me by getting it for me. Every time I wear it, I have tears as it reminds me of how wonderful and unselfish she is. It was her birthday we were celebrating, but she was more excited about getting me a gift than receiving one herself.
What a blessing she is. She is the best gift ever and I am so, so grateful she is here. God really blessed us by making her a part of our family. Yes, our family is now complete!
God Bless!
Love, Linda
Saturday, March 16, 2019
A Hint of Spring...
And HOPE,
if it had a scent,
would smell like
SPRING,
like rain,
like something
NEW and ALIVE.
-Jennifer Rush
It is not an exaggeration to say that it has been a long winter
here in Spokane. Just when the talk about town was that we
were going to escape having the horrible weather the rest of the country was enduring, bam! February hit with a record
amount of snow.
When we had our hearts set on Spring...
the snow hit and just kept coming.
How much snow you ask? More than 4 feet of snow in our back yard. School was cancelled and that never, ever happens in Spokane. After all, we are rustic survivors here, hearty folks who can handle tough weather, unlike our neighbors on the west side of the state who almost faint at the sign of the first snowflake... or that's the tale we tell.
Well, we may be survivors, but even the most hearty wanted a break from the white "stuff."
Everyone talked about the weather...would we every see sun again? Was more snow on the way? Had anyone seen the first hints of spring?
It was safe to say we were a little desperate. We needed a reminder that even in the darkest, snowiest days, God is in charge. Even in the midst of more snow and more snow, He holds us in the palm of His Almighty hand.
All will be well, as my dear friend Vicky Westra used to remind me.
All is well...I just need to remind myself of that truth.
This has been a hard winter in other ways as well. It's hard for me to find the words to talk about it because my tears keep flooding and rolling down my face even when I let the
thoughts cross my mind.
Bert has been ill since January. Not a little ill, really ill.
In the last three weeks, we spent one whole weekend visiting Urgent Care facilities and the next weekend we spent all of
Saturday at the Sacred Heart Hospital ER.
Then that next Wednesday, March 6th we had an appointment with Bert's doctor and old friend.
Dan knows Bert well as they worked together at the Adolescent Chemical Dependency Unit at Deaconess Hospital, years ago. Dan was the doctor, Bert one of the counselors who worked with the teenagers. They made a great team.
We trust "Dr. Dan" because we know he not only cares for us physically, he loves us. Especially Bert. Dan is quite a bit younger and almost looks at Bert as being a Dad figure...
the kind of Dad every kid would have loved to have.
I could see Dan's eyes when Bert came into the exam room.
Dan looked like he was going to cry, but held it together to greet both of us with his usual bravado.
He looked at Bert's records, lab reports and most importantly weight. I saw the flash of fear cross his eyes, even though Bert didn't pick up on it. He asked about the urgent care visits and the last trip to the ER.
Then he stopped in his tracks, put down Bert's chart, and started talking about snow and spring. How spring was a time of renewal and growth and HOPE.
Spring reminded us that God gave the world seasons, just like he gave us seasons in our lives. None of us, he said softly, knew when we would go home to God. And then he picked up Bert's hand and told him he loved him.
He told him how much love Bert had spread everywhere he went. He talked about the kids in the chemical dependency unit and how they flocked to Bert, knowing that he truly saw something in them that was good and holy, even though they didn't see that in themselves.
He told Bert that he was adored by his family and that every time we had an appointment Dan could see how Bert and I adored each other. We had reminded him that people could
be married "forever" and yet still look like they were on their honeymoon.
And then he stopped, paused and said almost quietly...
"No more urgent care visits, my friend, or ER visits where
you have to wait three hours to be seen, let's bring some nursing care right to where you are at home."
While tears had been streaming down my face during the whole visit, I felt a huge calm come over me, almost like Jesus was holding my hand just as Dan was holding Bert's.
I could feel like spring, while it might be Bert's last, was right around the corner and that God would be with us, no matter what happened next. The snow would melt, the sun would come out and help was coming with all of the medical issues we were facing.
God suddenly gave us peace about what comes next. While we don't know what that will look like, He does.
How perfect that God gave me the word Serenity for 2019!
And just like that...the snow in Spokane started to melt, the sun came out and the temperatures started to come up...just a bit.
There is a hint of spring and that's enough for now.
While we don't know what comes next, or what health challenges may come our way, Bert and I know that God
is here and all is well! We feel better then we have for awhile, just having nursing help when we need it. We can call and they will come. We are at peace.
April 7th we will have been married for 35 years, almost half my life. We are both so grateful that God brought us together, and we wouldn't trade a day of those 35 years. We have adored each other, and Bert is my beloved. Sharing my life with him has been such a joy and an honor. He is my very best friend and the love of my life. No human person has loved me like Bert has loved me and to share our love for God together...well, that has made ALL the difference.
We are grateful to God for every day we have had together and every day we will have together...no matter how many days that turns out to be.
Could we ask for your prayers? Please pray for peace, no matter what comes our way. May we know in our deepest heart-of-hearts that God is here and will be with us...whatever comes next.
And may you also know how much God loves you...
He is there in the darkest night and the hardest day.
He will never leave you or forsake you.
He will hold you close when you are afraid.
And if it feels like winter in your heart,
Just give your heart to Him and you, too, will feel a ...
hint of Spring!
Sending you loves, hugs and prayers-
God Bless!
Linda
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