"Karma's a b*@*#!"

How many times have I heard that?

So in meditation this morning I almost laughed out loud. When this thought flowed into my mind. Karma doesn't have to be a bitch. She doesn't. Karma can be the kindest and sweetest ever. Or she can be funny and genuine. Or she can thoughtful and giving. Because she is what we make her. What we give is what we receive. It is a law of the universe.

That's what meditating does for me. Gives me great moments of insight, hahaha. :)

SOMETIMES... out of the blue...

SIGH. It's been awhile since this has happened. And I'm not sure to whom I owe the thank you card. I'd like to thank SOMEBODY, haha. My old friend grief. As I've referred to him in the past. How am I ever surprised at his arrival? As my brother commented just before I logged off of Facebook. It isn't "sometimes... out of the blue...". It's ALWAYS out of the blue... It made me laugh out loud. He's right. It has been sometime since I have had tears hit me this hard, not being triggered by anything in particular. Ya know? I talk about Brian often. I read quotes everyday about loss. Love and loss. It's nothing new, really. To me. As I was brushing my teeth, sitting on my bed and trying not to let snot and tears get mixed with the toothpaste, I was thinking. (Which I don't know why I do, because it doesn't have to have a reason really, but nonetheless, I over think it). But I was thinking "why?". Why am I sad RIGHT NOW. It was kind of those sweet comments made by my an old friend on Facebook. It was kind of that video I watched of Jason changing Jax's diaper for the first time. It was kind of the blog post I read and commented on. Maybe it was kind of my subconscious realizing that the holidays are here? Maybe. Kind of. Sigh. Maybe it was kind of the accomplishments of the day. I finally ordered a shower door for my shower and in a girly kind of way felt like that was an accomplishment because I spent so much time trying to find the right one with the right measurements. I even watched a video on how to install them, haha. I called all the medical billing offices for my ER visit. THAT was a huge accomplishment and task that I'd been avoiding completely. Sigh. It was such a relief to get it done and get a few paid. I paid more bills. I made dinner. I made a homemade breakfast. AND I made home lunches. It was a good day. I accomplished a lot of things I needed to cross off my list and a few that just make me feel good. Like home lunches. A mommy date to Walmart with Gracie and helping Bree learn a song on the piano. So am I crying because it was a productive day and I feel relieved? Or am I crying because it was a productive day and I'm lonely? Or am I crying because it was a productive day and yet it wasn't enough? (As I type I am sitting on the floor, almost in the doorway of my room because I sold my small desk to make room for a better fitting desk, but still need to sell the other desk and the only desk left is bulky and the only spot it will fit in my room is the corner where all the boxes sit, still unpacked there contents unsure of where they belong, sigh). My list is still never ending of things I don't know how to do, things I am very capable of doing yet don't have time to do and things I simply don't want to do but need to? Not to mention the loving mother I want to be. I want to be less stressed. More joyful. Less distant. More present. And the older my children get, the more I worry. What have I lacked in teaching? In my example? Did they need more repetition? OF COURSE. And I didn't follow through. Sigh. I did fall short, I know that. Before the remarriage/divorce I did a lot of teaching, scripture study, family home evenings. I had an excitement and less doubt. I had trust and hope. In my weakness and recovery did they lose hope, too? I know I am not as strong as I once was. Sigh. And here we are with these struggles. It is getting better, and I thank my Father in Heaven for that blessing. But we are still far from "safe." Sigh. Yet. Wasn't it just yesterday I was telling myself that I haven't been this happy in awhile? A long while? I truly am, haha. I haven't been this content and at peace for years. Or ever, really. And for that I'm pleased. But in this moment. Sigh. For whatever reason... not sometimes, but always... out of the blue... all things point to you. I love you. I miss you. And I hope today was a good day wherever you are...

After a while you learn
the subtle difference between
holding a hand and chaining a soul
and you learn
that love doesn't mean leaning
and company doesn't always mean security.
And you begin to learn
that kisses aren't contracts
and presents aren't promises
and you begin to accept your defeats
with your head up and your eyes ahead
with the grace of a woman,
not the grief of a child
and you learn
to build all your roads on today
because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans
and futures have a way of falling down
in mid-flight.
After a while you learn
that even sunshine burns
if you get too much
so you plant your own garden
and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting for someone
to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure
you really are strong
you really do have worth
and you learn
and you learn
with every goodbye, you learn
-Veronica A. Shoftstall, 1971

The TRUTH.

The truth is, time doesn't heal all wounds. The truth is the scars will always remain and they are, on occasion scraped off leaving the wound open to bleed, once again. Not in the way that it was in the beginning, and not as often... but painful, still painful. The truth is, this life IS like a grain of sand in the eternal perspective of things. But it is also true that the small, tiny, minute grain of sand which is my earth life has often times found itself embedded in my eye causing pain, tears, turmoil, hurt and heartache. The truth is time really does fly. It goes by quickly without permission or care taking up all the memories with it. Yet at the same time it seems to crawl at a snails pace when my heart hurts my soul misses the physical presence of my love. The little moments of joking and teasing in the stillness of the night as we are drifting off to sleep. The terms of endearment. The physical and casual ways he would show me affection. It's his presence in all things, big and small, that I miss. For now we wait. We wait happily. We are definitely more happy on some days than others. But we do our best to endure cheerfully. It is a learning experience. Every time. My old friend Grief is a contradiction in himself. To have him near is comforting, it reassures me that we loved. We loved deeply. It reassures me that there is still love. That I haven't forgotten. Yet it is exhausting to feel it, and I am sometimes angry with his untimely visits. Yet he whispers "when would you have me come? have you made time for me? for healing?" So, I listen. And I learn. As I reflect on those visits I realize that with his parting and at the conclusion of each visit, I am left with a gift. Understanding. Compassion. Humility. Hope. Love. Unconditional love. Sacrifice. Memories. Connection. Belonging. Belonging... Isn't that what this is all about, anyway? All of that? And for that I am always grateful.

PAIN

"As long as you make an identity for yourself out of pain, you cannot be free of it." ~Eckhart Tolle


One of my favorite blogs is Storybooks for healing. They post on FB often and I find the many of their quotes and thoughts tug at my heartstrings and say things that I had not yet found words for. This was one. Grief. Pain. In whatever form it has taken in your life, does not define who you are. In my case letting it define me could benefit me in some ways. . . Remembering the moments, the people, the event, and the lessons are very important and are partially responsible in molding us into who we are today and to acknowledge and to be grateful for that is very important. For we are not the same people that we were last year, the year before and the year before that. We change day to day and especially after traumatic experiences. But to let pain define who you are daily, is suicide for the soul. The balance of remembering the pain and sorrow that refines you, while not letting it define you is a delicately complex and ongoing journey... Pain will always be present. It will always hurt. It will be a part of creating you. But IT is NOT YOU.

Happiness is not found until YOU ARE.

The 23rd Psalm

The 23rd PSALM 1 The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. 2 He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. 3 He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. 4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. 5 Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. 6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever. My mother in law would recite this subconsciously as she lay in bed suffering through the last stages of breast cancer. It was more audible when she was more awake, of course. But there came a time when she was on pain medication consistently, even though she tried her best the entire fight to not use medication. In those times her words were slurred, lips barely moving. But those of us who knew her, knew her recitation. I hope that one day, when my mind is cloudy and my body is near the end, that I will be this kind of woman. The kind whose spirit and heart ar so engrained in Christ that I will also willingly and unkowingly sing His praises in my darkest hours.