Well, the cookies were an utter disaster. I am headed to a bakery in the morning to purchase said cookies for a ridiculous fee simply because I procrastinated...I digress.
I'm not really sure if I am comfortable in this new blog format, and I don't know how long I will last at it. I just don''t see myself as a blogger. Try ThePioneerWoman.com. Now that's one seriously fun blog to read. And of course I have my own personal favorites from my friends Beth and Casey, but I am not a part of the bloggers' world, nor do I think I ever will be.
But here's the rub. More than ever, I have such a strong desire to clarify my thoughts about God in writing, and maybe it helps other people to know that they aren't alone when they doubt. Having said that, it makes me feel strange to know that anyone on the planet could read what I am writing right now as soon as I post even though I am really only writing for myself. Before, when I was writing on the carepages, it felt safe...as if I was simply talking to my friends. Everyone reading it had a love for or vested interest in my little family and knew Kate's story. Those reading the carepages saw my faith falter and yet survive in some way.
At any rate, it wasn't until Kate was born that I really started focusing on God in such an acute way. Sure, I had given Him a tremendous amount of attention when I made the decision to convert to Catholicism in my mid-twenties. That period in my life was one of the most content stages of my spiritual journey. I will never forget doing Stations of the Cross for the first time. As I knelt at each station, silent tears streamed down my cheeks as I considered - really FELT - for the first time the enormity of Christ's sacrifice for man and the kind of love He must have felt to be willing to endure such an agonizing journey. But that was the easy part. No sacrifice required on my part - only on His. And then my second angel was born, Will being the first, of course. Watching her struggle and fighting for her required me to talk to God ALOT more than usual, and not everything I said was kind.
So here I am, 14 months after her death, still trying to figure out where God is, who He is, and what He is going to mean to me now that the "rubber has hit the road." Trey and I have experienced the greatest loss a parent is ever asked to endure, and we have to find God again. I can't sleep tonight because there are hundreds of thoughts swimming around in my brain that desperately want to be clarified, but I am simply too tired. Maybe it's the Tamilflu...or the Lexipro...or the Tylenol...or the Hot Tamales (thanks, Angie), but I just can't make a coherent thought tonight other than to say that writing here feels really weird and I hope I find a way to make it okay...maybe if I just got over myself and realized that probably only my six followers are reading anyway and they are already used to my ramblings, so I should just relax. Maybe an hour or two of sleep will clear it up a bit.
Blessings...
Monday, February 14, 2011
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Is the flu from God?!?!?!
Well...I went from being the dutiful, loving mom taking care of sweet Will to a feverish, congested Flu B-ridden nightmare in a matter of hours, which made sitting at the computer and typing seem like an overwhelming task. After having lost two full days of my life to long stays in bed, I now (at 10:20 on Sunday evening) face the daunting task of making 24 heart-shaped sugar cookies for Will's school party tomorrow. I went to church and heard the sermon Pastor Clayton gave about "Who is God?" and enjoyed the study of Psalm 23. But that will have to wait until the cookies have cooled, which may be tomorrow at the rate I'm going. And since I am a less than stellar cook, all bets are off!
Thursday, February 10, 2011
An invitation
Once again I am cuddled up next to a sick kiddo. Will still has the flu, and he is absolutely exhausted from coughing so much. He finally, mercifully, conked out a few minutes ago. It's so comforting to hear his steady breathing and to see his red-rimmed eyes finally closed for a bit. At 4:45 a.m. this morning, he woke up in a fit of coughing and couldn't go back to sleep. After spilling tears of sorrow and frustration over being unable to go to school YET ANOTHER DAY (he hasn't been to school in almost two weeks now), he finally consented to try sitting up with Trey in the recliner to see if that would stop the cough. A few episodes of Tom & Jerry and The Flintstones didn't stop the coughing but sure helped his spirits. A run to Bunkie's for a chocolate twist and donut holes, and we got to see him smile again. It's great to be a kid, isn't it? Remember those simpler days?!?!?
From reminiscing about childhood to thinking deep thoughts about God. There must be a connection there, but that's how fast my mind shifts gears. Listening to Will breathe makes me think about something Terry (my counselor) taught me about the word spirit. Here's what the dictionary has to say about the origins of the word: 1200–50; Middle English (noun) < Latin spīritus orig., abreathing, equivalent to spīri-, combining form representingspīrāre to breathe + -tus suffix of v. action. So breath and spirit are closely linked; when you breathe, you are literally breathing in spirit. For me, deep breathing is a very calming activity. When I was in the initial stages of grieving, it literally felt as if I couldn't catch a breath. I felt as if I were drowning in hurt and sorrow. Back in April of 2010, I couldn't even walk around the block without Trey's help. I felt as if the breath had been knocked out of me.
This metaphor is not, in my mind, a coincidental one. My dear friend Lynn doesn't believe in coincidences at all. She's not superstitious; she's just convinced that God doesn't make mistakes and what we perceive to be coincidences are really not that at all. I think of it this way...coincidences are simply moments in which we catch God nudging us closer toward His dream for us. So as I am listening to my beautiful son's breathing, it makes my heart softly glow. Does that mean that I am closer to God in that moment? Certainly each time I look at Will, I am reminded of his miraculous little self and how special he is. Am I also seeing a little glimpse of Heaven in that moment of love? I think so.
Back to the coincidental nature of life. Yesterday when I decided to write again, I had no idea where this new path would take me and whether anyone would be even a tiny bit interested in my musings. It's no big secret how much time I spend trying to find God and how often since Kate's death I have wondered where He is. But who wants to read about that? It's kind of depressing in a way, isn't it? So I shut down the Internet for a bit and went to my Inbox. There was a message from Pastor Clayton about his upcoming sermon series. I want to plagiarize his words. This is his description of the upcoming sermons:
From reminiscing about childhood to thinking deep thoughts about God. There must be a connection there, but that's how fast my mind shifts gears. Listening to Will breathe makes me think about something Terry (my counselor) taught me about the word spirit. Here's what the dictionary has to say about the origins of the word: 1200–50; Middle English (noun) < Latin spīritus orig., abreathing, equivalent to spīri-, combining form representingspīrāre to breathe + -tus suffix of v. action. So breath and spirit are closely linked; when you breathe, you are literally breathing in spirit. For me, deep breathing is a very calming activity. When I was in the initial stages of grieving, it literally felt as if I couldn't catch a breath. I felt as if I were drowning in hurt and sorrow. Back in April of 2010, I couldn't even walk around the block without Trey's help. I felt as if the breath had been knocked out of me.
This metaphor is not, in my mind, a coincidental one. My dear friend Lynn doesn't believe in coincidences at all. She's not superstitious; she's just convinced that God doesn't make mistakes and what we perceive to be coincidences are really not that at all. I think of it this way...coincidences are simply moments in which we catch God nudging us closer toward His dream for us. So as I am listening to my beautiful son's breathing, it makes my heart softly glow. Does that mean that I am closer to God in that moment? Certainly each time I look at Will, I am reminded of his miraculous little self and how special he is. Am I also seeing a little glimpse of Heaven in that moment of love? I think so.
Back to the coincidental nature of life. Yesterday when I decided to write again, I had no idea where this new path would take me and whether anyone would be even a tiny bit interested in my musings. It's no big secret how much time I spend trying to find God and how often since Kate's death I have wondered where He is. But who wants to read about that? It's kind of depressing in a way, isn't it? So I shut down the Internet for a bit and went to my Inbox. There was a message from Pastor Clayton about his upcoming sermon series. I want to plagiarize his words. This is his description of the upcoming sermons:
This Sunday we are starting a new series called "Who is God?" We will be exploring some common questions that people have about the Christian faith. I have encountered various forms of these questions in talking with people who find things about Christianity hard to accept. Some of these unanswered questions have caused people to leave the church or reject faith altogether. We'll begin this Sunday with a sermon called "Is God Real?" and we'll explore not only whether believing in God makes sense but what kind of God you believe in. The other sermons in the series will focus on God and science, why bad things happen, and does prayer make a difference. If you know someone who has struggled with one or more of these questions I encourage you to invite them to worship! Can you believe it? Here I was starting a blog about what it's like to be a mourning mom and Pastor Clayton decides to preach about what it's like to be a doubting Christian. When I was grieving deeply, I literally got the "spirit" knocked out of me. And when I lost that connection to spirit, I lost my faith in God. Deep mourning and doubting may not be conjoined twins for everyone, but they certainly were for me. Here's the other interesting coincidence. Throughout my time of mourning, I have been feeling more and more adamantly that Kate's death can't have been for nothing-- that there has to be a positive end to her story. Over and over I have been struck by the interconnectedness of people, about how we are all grieving in some way, that our grief may be about different losses, but it's there nevertheless. Maybe other people are doubting like me. And doubting doesn't equate to atheism. It's more about needing concrete answers that aren't there and learning to rely on faith. Have I been brought to this blog today because someone needs to be sitting in the pews of First United Methodist Church Richardson to hear Pastor Clayton talk about faith and doubt? If so, it's an open invitation. Check out the church website for information about services. Will's up again...that nasty cough. We're headed out the door to the doctor's office. That's enough musings for today. Blessings... |
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
A fresh start
It's Wednesday evening, and I finished my final carepage entry for Katerbug a few hours ago. What a blessing that site was for me and for our friends and family. It provided me with a link to the outside world at a time when I desperately needed a sense of connection and a way to reach many people at once. It's funny, but early on someone said to me that they were following my blog. I said, "What's a blog?" Did they mean blob? I still don't like the name blog. If you look it up on dictionary.com, it has one of the shortest entries I've ever seen; maybe that's due to the fact that the word is so new - it originated in 1998!
I suppose my writings about Kate's hospitalization, about my struggles with faith, about the triumph of her homecoming, the tragedy of her death, and the aftermath of losing her fall under the definition of blogging, but I simply found carepages to be an easier way to "email" everyone updates about my angel baby girl. It was also a safe place to express my raw emotions as I walked the journey because I knew only people who loved us were reading. But to continue writing there meant that I wasn't closing one chapter and opening another.
For the last several months, I have been meeting with a wonderful counselor named Terry Parsons. He, along with a handful of my closest friends, has helped me put the pieces of my soul back together. When I first met Terry, I was at the lowest point imaginable. I didn't want to die, but I didn't know how to live with such a huge burden of grief. My Katerbug was gone, and I couldn't bear the idea of a life without her. All I remember about that time was the unutterable weight of loss and the darkness. Lots of darkness. I remember reading C.S. Lewis's A Grief Observed and realizing that Lewis had walked the journey before me and survived. The problem was that I never really felt like he had finished his story. Maybe he ended the book when he did because he simply didn't know what else to say. But I wanted to know if he ever found his way back to God. Did he ever make peace with Him? Did he ever get over longing for his wife? Did he find a way to be happy again? I have this feeling that he could have written forever if it meant feeling connected to Joy, his beloved wife who died.
I say Lewis could have continued writing because I believe that there's really no end to Grief's story. Each new stab of pain triggers a new set of thoughts. Each healing moment brings about a sense of clarity that had been absent only a moment before. There were times when I felt overwhelmed with a need to share the thoughts I was having about God in particular but felt that I had absolutely no basis for my beliefs in that they weren't grounded in Scripture or church teachings. All I had was life and loss and love. Plus, I really didn't have anyone I wanted to share them with in particular - I just wanted to throw some positive feelings out into the world and hope that they helped somebody. That's where the idea of Musings originated.
I don't expect anyone to follow this blog regularly, and I won't be offended if no one reads it. It's really just a place for me to breathe, to work through my thoughts, to continue to clarify my feelings. I named it Musings of a Mourning Mom because that's who I am now and that's what I'm doing. I search daily for ways to be happy (some days are easier than others), but I am always, at some level, in mourning for Kate. All it takes is a picture, a comment, a memory to trigger that tight chest-clenching sick realization that she's gone and not coming back. So here I will work through the sorrow, share the joy, sketch out my beliefs so that Will will know his mom in a way he might not otherwise. And if someone who has lost a loved one chances across this site and finds comfort or solace in knowing that I walked the journey before them and survived, then I will feel that I am living God's dream for my life.
Blessings to you.
I suppose my writings about Kate's hospitalization, about my struggles with faith, about the triumph of her homecoming, the tragedy of her death, and the aftermath of losing her fall under the definition of blogging, but I simply found carepages to be an easier way to "email" everyone updates about my angel baby girl. It was also a safe place to express my raw emotions as I walked the journey because I knew only people who loved us were reading. But to continue writing there meant that I wasn't closing one chapter and opening another.
For the last several months, I have been meeting with a wonderful counselor named Terry Parsons. He, along with a handful of my closest friends, has helped me put the pieces of my soul back together. When I first met Terry, I was at the lowest point imaginable. I didn't want to die, but I didn't know how to live with such a huge burden of grief. My Katerbug was gone, and I couldn't bear the idea of a life without her. All I remember about that time was the unutterable weight of loss and the darkness. Lots of darkness. I remember reading C.S. Lewis's A Grief Observed and realizing that Lewis had walked the journey before me and survived. The problem was that I never really felt like he had finished his story. Maybe he ended the book when he did because he simply didn't know what else to say. But I wanted to know if he ever found his way back to God. Did he ever make peace with Him? Did he ever get over longing for his wife? Did he find a way to be happy again? I have this feeling that he could have written forever if it meant feeling connected to Joy, his beloved wife who died.
I say Lewis could have continued writing because I believe that there's really no end to Grief's story. Each new stab of pain triggers a new set of thoughts. Each healing moment brings about a sense of clarity that had been absent only a moment before. There were times when I felt overwhelmed with a need to share the thoughts I was having about God in particular but felt that I had absolutely no basis for my beliefs in that they weren't grounded in Scripture or church teachings. All I had was life and loss and love. Plus, I really didn't have anyone I wanted to share them with in particular - I just wanted to throw some positive feelings out into the world and hope that they helped somebody. That's where the idea of Musings originated.
I don't expect anyone to follow this blog regularly, and I won't be offended if no one reads it. It's really just a place for me to breathe, to work through my thoughts, to continue to clarify my feelings. I named it Musings of a Mourning Mom because that's who I am now and that's what I'm doing. I search daily for ways to be happy (some days are easier than others), but I am always, at some level, in mourning for Kate. All it takes is a picture, a comment, a memory to trigger that tight chest-clenching sick realization that she's gone and not coming back. So here I will work through the sorrow, share the joy, sketch out my beliefs so that Will will know his mom in a way he might not otherwise. And if someone who has lost a loved one chances across this site and finds comfort or solace in knowing that I walked the journey before them and survived, then I will feel that I am living God's dream for my life.
Blessings to you.
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