When Do I Raise My Flag?

I never knew my town had so many flags until they were lowered in memory of former President Gerald Ford's death. I counted 17 on my route from home to the kids' school. It's funny how I didn't even notice the flags were there before they were lowered. Actually, maybe I did notice one or two of them on a particularly windy day when they seemed to be waving ferociously, but even then I was thinking about how windy it was outside, not the fact that there stands a flag, a statement of so many things for Americans. Not until they were lowered did I really pay attention.

It is a good thing to have a visual reminder when someone has died, like the flag being lowered. Maybe then, when we see it, we will think of something we loved about that person, what they meant to us, what we will miss about them and maybe even prompt us to send the family a card or send up a prayer for them.

While on my own journey through grief one of my many fears have been "what if people forget about Russ" or "what if they forget how painful his loss has been for us". That would be horrible, for someone who gave so much of himself to his family, friends, church, work and community, to be forgotten. The gifts and love he gave would still go on, and yet the man erased as if he never existed. I cannot let him or the impact of losing him be forgotten, so I feel as if I have to keep my own flag (my heart) at half staff, that maybe I will be that visual reminder for the world not to forget Russ. I fear, like with the American flag, that once it is raised to it's normal, every-day height, the world will drive by, not see it anymore and forget.

I thank my God upon every remembrance of you. Phillipians 1:3

Widow Colored Glasses

A person who sees the good in everything, who always sees the glass as half full rather than half empty, is referred to as someone who sees the world through rose colored glasses. They seem to respond in a positive way naturally without even thinking about it. They can't help it. It is how they were wired. That was definately the old me, bbw (before becoming a widow). Since Russ' death I feel like I have been re-born and re-wired into a person who sees the world through "widow colored glasses". Everything looks different. It has left no area untouched. Every decision I make I question if I would be making the same decision if I weren't a widow. Whenever I am with a new crowd I immediately wonder "Are there any widows here?" When I put on my socks I wonder "Is this how a widow puts on her socks?" I don't want to see beauty because I can't tell Russ about it. I don't want to laugh because he can't hear the joke. I don't want to learn because I can't share new ideas with him. I don't even want to go through the fast food drive-thru because I don't want to say 3 Cokes instead of 4.

I am wondering if this vision will eventually adjust like it does when you enter a dark room and can't see, but then your eyes slowly begin to get comfortable with the dark, you don't feel like you have to be immobilized and you feel safe enough to move around a little bit. You begin to see things you couldn't when you first entered. If this is not how it works, where do I go to get Lasik for this?

The Lord said "What do you want Me to do for you?" And he answered, "Lord, I want to regain my sight!" Luke 18:41

Learning to Dance

Dancing is hot right now. This is due in large part to the popular television show "Dancing With the Stars". I haven't gotten hooked on the show yet. Actually only tuned in once just to see what Emmit Smith could do. Is there anything that guy CAN'T do? Everyone looked like they were having such a good time. Life is usually dancing by me so fast here that I don't even hear the music. I am searching for balance right now. I know that is important when dancing. My balancing act includes respectfully mourning my husband's death, teaching my children that one loved one's death does not become yours, then figuring out how to apply that concept in my own life. Can the world believe I really adored my husband if I am dancing? Why is it so important to me what the world thinks? Will I get that self-conscious feeling that everyone is staring at me if I begin to dance? Can I start out slow-dancing? Lord, teach me to dance.

Psalms 30:11 “You turned my mourning into dancing”

“To heal is to let the Holy Spirit call me to dance, to believe again, even amid my pain that God will orchestrate and guide my life.” –Henri Nouwen-

My Story

My name is TJ. This is my story: I was married for 20 years to the love of my life. We were happy even after all those years. We waited 5 years before having children and had a lot of fun together traveling, staying up late, sleeping in late, going out to breakfast, hanging out with friends and being spontaneous. We then completed our perfect little family by having first our beautiful daughter and then our precious son. Does it sound too good to be true? It was. I was only 41 years old, our daughter was 15 and our son was 12. My husband, their dad, was killed on our small farm in a tractor accident. That was the end of my old life. Everything about me changed except my name. This is going to be about my journey through grief, learning to live while still feeling pain, and getting the good parts of the old me back and figuring out if I've learned anything profound through this tragedy. I would love for you to walk with me on this path.

“Peace Does Not Depend on Our Circumstances, but in Our Willingness to Allow God to Use the Events of Our Lives to Create a Dependence on Him” –Henri Nouwen-