Come ye Disconsolate

Oh thank you lovely friends and family for being so kind to me.

I am sure it is partly ridiculous to splay out my feelings on the internet in writing but for some reason it is very cathartic and helpful for me.

Mostly because of the kind response of people in reaction to my pain.

I wish we could all go around wearing signs across our chests of how we are really doing. We send off cues but they are often hard to interpret and we misread each other so often. It would be nice if we could just have signs saying such things as "I feel miserable" or "I've had a great day" or "I am hurting right now" or "I just need to be alone for a minute" or "I feel so productive today."

Then we could all respond in kind to each other and be more helpful than intuition sometimes allows.

I think that is why it helps me to write it out- so that can acknowledge what my sign would say without actually verbalizing the words.

I am feeling better. The sickness is on its way out the door, I have been sleeping and doing better self-care, we've received so much kindness and support and I have had people to listen and talk me through it. I am grateful to know that although I am on a roller coaster ride the downs won't last forever. They are not permanent anymore.

On Sunday we sang a song at church that I haven't heard very often. It is called "Come Ye Disconsolate" (click HERE to listen to this beautiful rendition). I couldn't even sing as my eyes filled with tears at the beautiful words that were a tender reminder of God's love for me, and for all of us, who at times feel cast down.

1. Come, ye disconsolate, where'er ye languish;
   Come to the mercy seat, fervently kneel.
   Here bring your wounded hearts; here tell your anguish.
   Earth has no sorrow that heav'n cannot heal.
2. Joy of the desolate, Light of the straying,
   Hope of the penitent, fadeless and pure!
   Here speaks the Comforter, tenderly saying,
   "Earth has no sorrow that heav'n cannot cure."
3. Here see the Bread of Life; see waters flowing
   Forth from the throne of God, pure from above.
   Come to the feast of love; come, ever knowing
   Earth has no sorrow but heav'n can remove.

I know that Jesus' love is real. He has compassion for our sorrow. He is filled with mercy and will alleviate our affliction. I believe with all of my heart that His grace overshadows all of the pain of this earthly existence and that in Him we can find true healing. He is, and always will be, the answer.

What goes up must come down

Why do I do this to myself?

Write about things being happy and stable and comfortable and good?

So that when the coin flips and things feel heavy and hard and difficult and bad it feels like the balloon pops and I am plummeting back to the ground.

I am being overly dramatic, but somehow in the last week things have shifted and life feels all muddled again.

I think I set up some unrealistic expectations- I will do this and that and cross things off and get to projects I've been putting off for years- and then real life set in and all of that became impossible. Our kitchen sink needs new valves. Tommy got sick and stayed home for 3 days. I am now also sick with a cold. The sprinkler system is draining down the sidewalk all day long. I might need a new roof. Will my house crack in two and fall off of the mountain....  I've also offered up much of my time to help and host people, volunteer and do good things and serve others and be responsible and contribute and I'm left feeling overwhelmed.

Darn it.

My reservoir is empty.

I can say that is one thing I've learned in these 3 years. I can at least recognize when my tank is out and I have nothing left to give. I was not able to do that for a long time.

But even though I can recognize it I still don't quite know what to do about it. So when I am feeling drained and running on fumes the old feelings- the familiar pain- inevitably comes creeping back in. And I start to wish for the impossible.

I want Jake back.

I want his help, I want his support, I want to be able to talk to him. I want him to take some things off of my plate. I want him to encourage our kids. I want to be able to vent to him. I want to have him hold me and tell me it will be ok.....

And that is something I cannot have.

I know there are so many people willing and able to help.

I know that I just need to ask for their help.

But most of the time I just don't want to. I am so sick and tired of asking for help. Of needing help. So much help....  All I really want is my helpmate back.

I recently found this honest article posted by a friend. The widowhood effect: What it is like to lose a spouse in your 30s. I love it when people can put into descriptive language the indescribable feelings of your heart.

I particularly found this section meaningful today, especially after my light hearted post of last week....

"This is where I am supposed to tell you how I have moved on. We all like pretty endings for young widows .... But I don't believe ... that young widowhood is simply a time gap between a funeral and a remarriage. I think it's about withstanding a blow that fundamentally changes your architecture. Some days, you are wobbly; other days, less so...... I still have days where I lie on the floor and miss him so terribly that I keep repeating, "I want you to come home." It does not happen as frequently as in year one or two but it slays me just the same."

I guess this is me today. Feeling pretty wobbly in my changed architecture.

I do know that it won't stay like this forever. I will again have days and weeks of stability and happiness as I have had in the recent past.

But for now I'm ok to just wobble.

September

The Earth, Wind and Fire lyrics to September started running through my mind as I sat to type-

"Do you remember? The 21st night of September? Love was changing the minds of pretenders, while chasing the clouds away... Ba de ya, say do you remember? Ba de ya, dancing in September... Ba de ya, never was a cloudy day... "

That is how things are feeling around here. The clouds have been chased away and we are definitely dancing in September. It is one of my favorite months.

I just spent nearly 30 minutes sending pictures from the summer to this laptop where I sit and type, but much to my dismay and tech-un-savvy only four of them made it through. I was going to give a comprehensive review of our summer and all the fun we had to preserve it for memory's sake.

Alas, I just don't want to mess with it anymore so here you go.

One picture from summer:

Here I am with Ellie, Ada, Lauren and Tommy at Cedar Breaks in southern Utah. It was awesome.

Suffice it to say we had a great time off from school. We saw tons of friends. We saw every family member. We went to Bear Lake and Zions National Park and Bryce Canyon National Park and Boise, Idaho. We spent time at the pool, the reservoir, the lake, the mountains, girls camp, soccer camps, cross country camp, and had bunches of fun biking, hiking, cooking, eating, talking, staying up late and sleeping in.

All in all it was a great 10 weeks and we played hard for nearly all of them. Near the end of the summer as I started to tire of the constant commotion I had the realization that I was so fortunate- how many of the world's population just get to have fun and see the people they love for weeks on end with few other cares? We are pretty lucky to live in a place where there are so many things to do, to have people who travel to see us and spend time with us and to have the time, energy, help and  means to do some pretty great things.

So if I never get to the details of summer 2019 just know that it was pretty great all around.

Which leads to September and school starting.

Oh school, how I love you! I love the structure, routine and predictability that school provides. I LOVE IT. I mean I really really really LOVE it. Also, as I've said before I love the little break that school gives me from being a double parent 24/7. So I welcome it with open arms.

And this year sweet little Tommy guy started kindergarten so ALL OF OUR KIDS ARE IN SCHOOL!

Again, not to belabor the point but seriously this is big news around here and has really come just in the nick of time. The first day they were all gone I was walking around the house feeling all kinds of feelings- and ALL of them happy ones. I was screaming with excitement. I was overcome with gratitude. I was triumphant with victory. I was dancing with joy. I was so relieved that we made it.

I think this is not just a feeling I have as a widow- I think any stay at home mom who has her last child go to school must feel all of these things....right??? It is a strange end of an era and a beginning of the next chapter. I feel like I mourned it more at the end of last school year- in April and May as I thought about not having a little person around the house all day anymore. And because of that I've felt nothing but JOY and GRATITUDE that I made it. 13.5 years of having a little person constantly in my care all day every day through some pretty difficult years and I made it (there were definitely times where I DID NOT think I could do it).

But here we are! It happened despite all that was against us and somehow our kids are thriving and happy and engaged and dare I say normal. It is a testament to me of the goodness of God who, despite our own weaknesses and the odds stacked against us, is faithful and will see us through. I know it because He has seen me and our children through the great deep and here we are standing on the shores of the other side.

As Paul wrote to the Corinthians:

"There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it."

I understood this idea in theory but have now lived it in practice and feel such gratitude to my Father in Heaven who, with this trial, has also made a way for me and our children to bear it. I love Him and feel so grateful for His great mercy that has seen us through.

While I still don't know the full path forward I do feel renewed hope and can see light at the end of the tunnel and stand in awe at all that God has done for me and our children. He is, to the end, forever and eternally, faithful.