Letting Go

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This week, we are discussing "letting go". (Click on the Walk With Him Wednesdays/One Thousand Gifts on my right sidebar if you want to read more.)

Letting Go...

So hard for me. I struggle. I cry. I'm stubborn. It hurts.

I hold on until my hands ache. My muscles spasm. I can hardly breathe.

NO, GOD!!!

My grandmother laid in her bed. Family gathered around. We knew her time was short. She was ready to go home, but only days away from being 20 years old, I didn't want to let her go. The memories washed over me, salty tears coursed down my face. I watched, sadly, as the funeral worker came to the house to take her away. She was buried on my birthday. The day I turned 20. The day I told her goodbye.

In November of 2000, the hospital lights glared as I stood over my husband's bed. The nurse asked me if I wanted my husband's wedding ring? And did I want to say a final goodbye to him before they took him away? My pastor friend was there. A friend from Sunday School. I explained to my 5 year old son that Daddy was with God now, and he wasn't coming back.

I got the call early, before I left for work. It was a chilly March morning, that day in 2002. My aunt's voice carried hundreds of miles across the phone line. "Dawn, I called you first. Will you call your sister? Your father is dead. He took his own life."  The air sucked out of my lungs. "What?!" My brain was numb as I attempted to process what she had just told me.  My dad left....and he didn't even say goodbye.

I got a call from my husband, Scott, in January 2009. We had been married for just a tad over 3 years. Scott had a good job (he worked remotely) with a company that he had been with for 22 years. We were in the process of building a house out of state. Exciting times.....until that fateful phone call. His company was letting him go. No fault of his own. Economy. Since he worked remotely, he couldn't be put in a new position. I was trying to process the news....we were a single income family, we were in the middle of building a house, what were we going to do?!  I had to say goodbye to the life that I had known.

Letting go. Saying goodbye. Starting over.

My knuckles were white from the grasping hard.

And yet... it is when I let go, give up, release, that I can watch God in action. When I stop wrestling with Him for control, I can see Him at work.

When I stop saying "me", and start saying "YOU", I give Him glory.

Letting go is not easy. Humanly speaking, I don't know if it ever is. But, it is only when I let go and rest in Him that I fully begin to understand who God  is.

Psalm 34 ...4.I sought the Lord and He answered me; He delivered me from all my fears.....8. Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him. 17. The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears them; He delivers them from all their troubles. 18. The Lord is close to the broken hearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

God is good. All the time. Even when we have to let go.

 

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Asking 'Why' Is Normal

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I have a lot of family and friends that are dealing with illness themselves, or illnesses of those they love. Some of the loved ones have had tests come back, with news that is not very encouraging. Some of them are having to learn to live with a chronic condition, others know they are dying. Friends and family members are having to learn about scary medical terms, and medical diagnoses that they can't really get their mind around. Scared. Angry. Sad. Confused. Accepting. Forgiving. Frightened. Heartbroken. Encouraged.

Many times people ask ,"why"? Why me? Why my husband? Why my wife? Why my child? Why cancer? Or an incurable heart disease? Or Alzheimer's? Or Cystic Fibrosis? Or a myriad number of other medical conditions that change the lives of the ones that have them, as well as those that love them.

Why is a huge question. If I had the answer to that, I would be a much sought after woman. Sometimes I blog about funny things, or controversial things, and sometimes I blog about things that make others sad. Sometimes I just feel led to blog about a certain thing, something that is on my heart. But, I don't have the answer to, why.

I have mentioned in previous blog entries that my husband and I co-facilitate a GriefShare group. The group is for those that have lost someone close to them. This last group meeting was about the question, why. I learned some new things last week, or at least was reminded of them. I want to share some things with you. I never know who is touched by what I have to say, or whether the things I mention help anyone....but, if I say even one thing that does answer a question, touches a heart, turns a soul toward God, or gives some reassurance...then it is worth it.

1. We are all terminal patients in this life.

2. Everyone is going to die...it's just that most of us aren't forced to think about it.

3. "When you ask 'why',  you are in essence validating your own humanness and realizing you are not in control." ---Dr. Tim Clinton

4. There are questions that we have in this life, that will not be answered this side of Heaven.

5. My finite mind cannot understand an infinite God. If I could understand all His reasons,could understand why He allows the things He does, that would make Him a very small god.

6. Knowing 'why' wouldn't make the hurt any less.

7. God reveals enough.

8. Attitude might not change your circumstances, but it does change YOU.

9. We are each on a journey. Some journeys are longer than others. Some have more struggles than others.

10. Everyone is going through something. Sometimes others can see it. Sometimes not.

11. Life is like a tapestry. God can see the beautiful story that he is stitching together from His perspective in Heaven. Down here on earth we can only see the "ugly" side of the tapestry. We see the knots and strings, the stops and starts, the new threads...on the underside of the tapestry. It doesn't make sense to us...because we can't see how we each fit into the picture. But God knows. He knows what He is doing.

12. It is good to feel a part of something bigger than yourself.

13. Illness and death are scary for everyone involved.

14. Being scared or angry is normal.

15. You don't have to stay scared and angry.

16. It is a choice.

17. I wish I could hug everyone that is in pain.

18. And cry with them.

19. Tears are cleansing.

20. Jesus loves us. He understands grief. When His friend Lazarus died, the Bible tells us that Jesus wept.

21. Jesus understands pain.

22. His love caused Him to lay down His own life for us.

23. He loves each of us that much.

24. Pain is not because God hates you.

25. He has not forgotten you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Living With The Dead

In the spirit of spookiness during the month of October. ....

I have visited funeral homes, more than my fair share during my lifetime. Never a fun experience.

Well, except for THAT TIME.

1. My sister and her new husband lived in a small apartment.

2. While my brother in law worked on his Masters degree.

3. An opportunity presented itself, to live in a large (entire second floor) apartment in a beautiful old home for little or no rent.

4. Only one catch.

5. The beautiful old house was a funeral home.

6. And their job would be to help keep the downstairs clean, instead of paying a huge amount of rent.

7. Hmmmmm.........

8. My sister and brother in law decided why not?

9. The work wasn't hard.

10. And the neighbors would be quiet.

11. Right?

12. So, they found themselves vacuuming around "Mrs. Jones" as she quietly laid in the front room.

13. Or dusting the tables, where "Mr. Smith's" flowers were setting.

14. It was peaceful. And quiet. Good neighbors.

15. While they were living there-

16. My (late) husband and I visited, with our toddler son.

17. My husband was a bit freaked out.

18. I thought it was kind of cool, but I've always been kind of freaky that way.

19. Just as my husband and I were getting snuggled in bed  one night...

20. My sister pops her head in the door and says---

21. "Hey, don't worry about it if you hear the garage door opening tonight."

22. (The guest room we were in, was right over the garage.)

23. " That will just mean one of the guys that works here had to go pick up a body tonight."

24. Alrighty then.

25. And yes, we did hear the garage door that night.

26. And yes, my big, strong husband was totally freaked.

27. Mu wah ha ha!

28. On this same visit my son wanted a picture taken with his aunt.

29. As she parked a hearse.

30. How many people can say that?

31. Unless your family happens to be in the biz.

32. I also got a little tour of the embalming room.

33. Very clean.

34. In a stainless steel kind of a way.

35. This satisfied my desire for a little spookiness.

36. I know. I'm weird.

37. I couldn't be a funeral director.

38. I think it would get to me after awhile.

39. If I had to be there everyday.

40. But it was fun, to visit

41. Especially, since everyone that I loved at the funeral home...was alive.

42. That made everything so much better.

43. The fun all came to an end when my brother in law got his Masters degree.

44. Then he was off to get his PhD.

45. In another school, in another city.

46. The new apartment wasn't nearly as interesting.

47. The complex was a lot more crowded.

48. And the neighbors were a lot noisier.

49. Oh well.

50. It was fun while it lasted.

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Remembering Kennis...

 

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My late husband's brother mentioned to me the other day that this weekend would be difficult for him. You see, my late husband and his brother were twins. Their birthday is this coming Sunday. If my husband had lived he would have been celebrating his 44th birthday. His birthday coming up, has allowed me to remember... I have a picture of him from his 26th birthday. It was him eating a piece of hot fudge cake at Darryl's restaurant in Knoxville, Tennessee. We were newlyweds (2 1/2 months) at the time. Goofy and laughing--with no idea what was ahead for us. I guess it was better that way. The not knowing...

Time went on... and I also remember his last birthday. Kennis and I and our children along with his parents, had gone to a seafood restaurant in Dandridge, Tennessee. We had a good time that night. He was celebrating being 34, in the midst of a chronic illness and an incurable heart disease. I remember us all riding in the car back home. We had a nice evening together. Little did any of us know how soon life as we knew it, would change. I'm glad we didn't know what was ahead of us. I guess it was better that way. The not knowing...

Three weeks later Kennis died. Just 3 weeks into his 34th year....and life changed for all of us that knew and loved him.

Beginnings are scary. Endings are usually sad, but it's what's in the middle that counts. So, when you find yourself at the beginning, just give hope a chance to float up. And it will.

I wrote this blog two years ago as a memorial to Kennis. It was a hard blog entry to write. The memories were very vivid. I still remember them as if they just happened yesterday. It does not seem possible that nearly a decade has gone by.

For those of you that are new readers to my blog, I warn you this blog will be difficult to read.....but, it is me, being real.

In Memory of Kennis---

DISCLAIMER: Be aware that this blog entry will have some things in it that might be difficult or painful to read.

Back in August I did a blog about the memory of my husband’s late wife, Nancy.  Now, it is my turn to do a blog entry about my late husband, Kennis. This Tuesday will not just be election day, but also the day that marks the eighth anniversary of my first husband’s death.  Honestly, I can hardly believe eight years have gone by. It seems like a lifetime ago.

In late October of 2000 I was vacuuming in our living room. Vacuuming like a mad woman. My life was out of control. My husband was chronically ill. He was dying. We had a lot of medical bills. My life revolved around taking care of him….. I was vacuuming and keeping things in order because it was something I had control over…when everything else was so out of control.  On this particular evening my husband said to me in a premonition of what was to come, “Dawn come here and sit with me. The vacuuming can wait. Sit here with me because you know I won’t be here forever. I’m dying.” I in an angry voice replied, ” No, you won’t! I don’t want to hear you talk like that.” ” Yes. Come and sit over here with me.” Little did I know how quickly his words would become my reality……..November 4, 2000 was a Saturday. Kennis was brought to the hospital by me, the afternoon before with extreme pain. (He had a chronic heart condition that he had been diagnosed with the year before at the ripe old age of 32 years and 8 months) He was okay that morning and we talked and laughed. Some of his family visited and we watched the University of Tenn. play against the University of SC. After the game everyone left and it was just the two of us. Things seemed okay… Kennis called me over to his hospital bed, reached his arms up and pulled me close. “You know I love you, right?”, he said in his deep mellow voice. ” Of course”, I replied as I gazed up at him.  Moments later my husband yanked his IV’s out. I didn’t understand. I remember being confused as I stared at the crimson stains on the white hospital sheets….his voice echoing in my head….” I have to get up. I have to get up NOW! I need to exercise. I can’t just lay here. I have to run in the hallway!” I grabbed the nurses button and started screaming, ” Help me! Someone help me, PLEASE! Dear God, HELP ME!” Nurses came running in to Kennis’ room asking him questions like, ” What is your name? Who is the president? What day is it?” Sometimes he answered correctly, sometimes not. I said, “What is the matter with him?” ( I later found out lack of oxygen made him talk out of his mind.) They just shook their heads….and got some new sheets. Kennis laid back down….but not for long. He got back up. He was screaming at me. I KNEW something was terribly, terribly wrong. I screamed again as this time, my husband slumped over in the chair next to his bed.  His eyes rolled back. All I could see was the white of his eyes. At that moment I knew my husband was gone. I stood like a statue staring at him, my feet felt like I had concrete in them. I couldn’t move…even as the nurses and doctors crowded into the room yelling, “He’s coding!” I vaguely remember a nurse leading me to another room on the same floor to wait. As I waited, Kennis’ mother and father arrived. They had no idea what was going on and were escorted to the room I was in.

Much later the emergency room doctor and Kennis’ cardiologist walked in. The emergency room doctor looked directly at me….and I know how hard it must have been for him….”Mrs. Satterfield we lost your husband. I’m so sorry. I worked on him for 45 minutes straight. I couldn’t bring myself to stop even though we could never get a solid heartbeat. I didn’t want to give up because he was so young with a young family. I’m so very sorry.” At first I was confused…you lost him? Where is he at? Then I said, ” you mean he is dead.” I didn’t cry. I actually thanked him for his effort. It was all very strange, that I felt I should be polite. I guess that is the body’s way of coping with extremely painful news. Don’t think. Just do.  Though I was quiet, Kennis’ mom let out the most mournful scream I’ve ever heard. It made the hairs on my arms stand up, like with goosebumps. She slumped on her husband saying, “not my baby boy. not my baby boy. Dear Jesus, why my baby boy?” I remember at that very moment I felt worse for her then I did for myself…I lost my spouse, but she had lost her son. Thinking about our own 5 year old son who at the time was with my mother, I couldn’t begin to imagine the pain of losing a child.

Over the days that followed my family and friends were there to support me. They helped me every step of the way. They helped my son, and me to not feel alone. Life started to be a new kind of normal for us. It wasn’t the same mind you…it never would be the same, but life could be good again. Indeed, it has been good. God, in scripture, told me that He is a defender of widows and a father to the fatherless. He would never leave me. I cannot imagine what my life would have been like if I didn’t know the Lord. My hopelessness was replaced with hope. My grief was replaced with peace. It didn’t happen immediately, and there were days that were difficult…but God carried me through the most difficult times and brought me out on the other side.  Scripture also tells me, and I believe that God allows us to go through certain trials so that we can help others when they are in similar trials. I understand things now that it would have been impossible for me to understand had I not had to walk through the valley.

Shortly after my husband’s funeral I was cleaning in our bedroom. Trying to straighten things up…it was something to do, you know what I mean. I was trying to stay busy. I looked over at our dresser and noticed a piece of paper that I hadn’t seen there before. It was a scripture verse that had been written out in my husband’s own handwriting. I gently picked it up and read the familiar scrawl. This scripture was a message to me. A message from a wonderful and loving God. He gave me this message to read. A message that He had also given Kennis. “However, as it is written: “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love Him.” (I Corinthians 2:9) What peace I had after reading that. Thank you Lord.

When I think of my late husband I think of truck driving, and NASCAR, Earnhardt, and baseball caps. Woodworking and cooking. Grill master, canning and apple pies. He loved the University of Tennessee football, and his white pick up truck. He loved his daughters and son. He’d try to fix anything and if he couldn’t then he’d fake it:) I remember trips to the Bahamas, Florida and St. Louis. I remember the week I spent with him in the big rig. (and realized I could never do that! haha.) Memories tucked away in my mind…

My life has changed much since this day...I have gone on living. I am now able to think about Kennis and celebrate his life and all that he was, instead of staying in mourning. God has indeed blessed me and I appreciate each day now, much more than I ever did.

My late husband was very much like the prodigal son of the Bible. When he found out he was going to die, I believe he began to understand God much more. His relationship with Christ changed,  as they walked together through the valley of the shadow of death. Changed in a way that I honestly cannot really understand because I've not been there. Because my husband knew the Lord personally, I have no doubt that he is with Him in heaven. More alive today than he ever was here on earth. Thank you, Jesus. Amen.

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We're All Terminal

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DISCLAIMER:  This blog entry will cause readers to think. Read at your own risk.

We're all terminal. No one is going to make it out of this life, alive.

We're all dying. Some of us realize that. Some deny it. Some ignore it. It doesn't change anything. It's still happening.

None of us, regardless of age, are promised tomorrow. As a matter of fact, we are unable to see even a few seconds into our future. No one knows for sure what is going to happen to them even 5 seconds from now. We tend to forget that. It's easier that way.

Now, at this point I can pretty much guarantee, many people reading my blog are scratching their heads and wondering what in the world is going on? I'm usually an upbeat writer. Even funny on some occasions. Why the death talk? It's depressing. Not sure if I want to hear this.....

Well, stick around. Hear me out. It will be worth it. I promise.

I've met death, up close and personal. On more than one occasion.

As a five year old, I was visiting with my cousin, when my uncle  (his dad) died. I actually have memories of that. As a freshman in high school I lost a good friend, from my church youth group. He died on Christmas Day 1982. I lost all my grandparents by my senior year in college. In 2000, after a year and a  half of illness, my first husband died, leaving me a widow at 32, as well as a single parent. Not a year and a half later my father, in his desperation, took his own life. Then there are all the deaths of relatives, co-workers, acquaintances, and other national tragedies, such as 9/11. In 2005, I remarried. He was also widowed with young children. So, he understood.

Dealing with death, or writing about death...always makes me think. How can it not? After all one day it will happen to me.

My husband and I facilitate a GriefShare group at our church. It is a support group for others that have had to face the death of someone they loved. It's a group that is needed...because sometimes people who have seen the act of dying, up close...need to talk about it. It helps. It heals.

Yesterday a friend asked for prayer. A young family that she goes to church with, just found out that the mommy, the wife, was in the late stages of aggressive cancer. She had no idea until she was told by the doctor that she only had a few weeks to live. A few WEEKS to live. My heart hurts for her. For her husband. For her children. For her family. For her friends. Death is never easy...and in most cases comes to the party, uninvited.

As I was mulling these thoughts over in my head...and my heart...a video that I first saw last year, came to mind.

The woman on the video is Rachel.

It was taped in March of 2009.

Rachel was a wife.

A mom.

She was 37 years old.

And she was dying.

Her body was riddled with very painful cancer.

At the time of this video, she knew her time on this earth was short.

And yet she had a message to tell.

My hope is that you, my readers, will take the time to watch her video.

The video is long, about 50 minutes.

But 50 minutes is just a drop of water in the ocean of eternity.

It is one of those life changing videos.

The kind of video that you might not get to see again. So, grab the opportunity.

It's profound.

So watch it.

You'll probably cry.

That's okay.

Rachel died about 4 months after this video was taped.

She said, not to worry. She's with the Lord.

And she is now more alive than she ever was here on earth.......

http://deathisnotdying.com/fullvideo/

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Moments In Time

I found out a couple of weeks ago that a friend of mine from college passed away. He was just two years older than I am. Two years. That's it. I'm sure that morning  he didn't  expect that he would be meeting the Lord face to face in a few short hours. When I saw his name in the obituaries, memories flooded back from my college days. Days my classmates and I thought would last forever. Days that end...sometimes much sooner than expected.

I have recently been asked to speak at my church's, ladies luncheon. I had been considering what to speak about. So many thoughts swirled around in my head...a million different ideas. After hearing about my friend, I started to think about my time here on earth.....and really, not just my time. OUR time. Each of us has a set amount of days. Only God knows how many there are for each of us. It got me to thinking about what my legacy will be? How will I be remembered? I've thought about this before and I think I might have blogged about it at sometime in the past. It's a hard question. To be honest, I don't think most people really want to think about it. It's deeply personal, but also a little scary. "What will YOUR legacy be?"

I'm sitting here in my home library/office. My desk and walls are filled with pictures. I love pictures. I have pictures of my son at age two. Again at age six. Pictures of my teens dressed in their Sunday clothes with smiles on their faces. The kids at a competition. My husband and I at our wedding. My grandmother when she was in her twenties. Pictures that have meaning to me. Memories. Pieces of my life, past and present, quilted together. While gazing at my pictures, it occurred to me that one day my kids will be looking at pictures of me. I will be gone. No longer here. What will they remember about me? Of course, after everything has been sifted through I like to believe that when they think about me they will have good memories. Not perfect memories...because, I'll be honest...I'm not perfect. I am so far from perfect that it's not even a dot in the rear view mirror of life. So, memories of perfection are not what my legacy is going to be about. Ever.

I believe it is our imperfections that give life meaning. You might be thinking, "Why does she want to talk about imperfections? What good is that? Does she really want to be remembered for those???"  Yes....well, at least some of them. When I sometimes get impatient with my own children, and yell at them in frustration...it humbles me. It is because of that, I am able to have empathy with another mom who is going through a trial with her own children. When I struggle to keep my opinion to myself about something my spouse did (or didn't do)...and sometimes fail...it humbles me. It allows me to go to him later and say, "I'm sorry". When I stomp my foot and shake my fist at the unfairness of life and then realize I'm not God...it humbles me. Then I can go to Him in prayer, study His letter (the Bible) to me and understand that He still loves me, even when I make daily messes of things.

Ultimately, I want my legacy to be one of relationships. Did having known me change anyone's life? Did I make a mark on things? Did I tell others by my words and actions that Jesus Christ is central in my life? That it is HE that made all the difference? Without HIM I am nothing. That is the truth. I don't say that to denigrate myself, I say it because I'm being honest. All the good and lovely things that people could say about me after I'm gone, are nothing compared to the good and truly wonderful things that Christ did (and does) for me. For us.  He is what makes my life enjoyable. My relationship with Him. Life is never easy for any of us. I'll tell you something, I've dealt with some sad things in my life. Even in the midst of my worst times, when I was ragged and worn out emotionally...He did not leave me. Or give up on me.  I hope my legacy will be one, where I took the spotlight off myself and shone it on the One who deserves it the most.