As I was sitting with a coworker friend of mine today having lunch, I was given a new kind of perspective as my husband somehow managed to walk in and glide right past us going unnoticed. As for me, it appears that I was just so engulfed within the conversation of the moment, that I just didn’t see him, and as for him, he was so focused upon the possibility of obtaining some form of food and drink that just might satisfy his non-present taste buds, he didn’t notice me either. My friend however, having not seen him for months, had to take a second look as he was about to exit, and wait for my confirmation, before actually believing that it was truly him. But what caught my attention all the more in addition to her initial reaction, was how some other coworkers of ours who were also present within the restaurant, were able to stand right beside him, without having even a snap shot memory of recognition of it being him as well. But all things considered, none of their reactions really surprise me, as I know the depth of what his body has been through over these last few months, but because of their reactions, I am reminded that although today we are in a season of recovery, the overall journey is a process that will take time to fully complete.

Upon the wake of dawn I couldn’t help but drop to my knees with complete surrender knowing that the day had finally come. The finish line was in plain site with my  emotions ready to taste the crown of victory, as this marathon of treatment was finally coming to a close. Upon walking into the office, my face grinning ear to ear, the nurse looked upon us, saying to my husband, “congratulations, the end is finally here”. My heart jumped with joy as my very soul took a sigh of relief, the doorway of recovery had finally opened, with an invitation we could not refuse. And even though I know it will take some time for him to be restored as his body is still pretty beat up, battered, and bruised, I will never forget the support, prayers, and help that everyone extended to us in order to provide us the strength to get us through.

As I closed my eyes last night, with my heart heavy, my prayer to God was more like a cry for help. Help for my husband, as I knew physically his body was weak, emotionally his heart drained, and mentally his mind broken; with him questioning if he could go on, even if for just one more day, knowing the finish line was near.   Upon waking this morning, remembering it’s always darkest before the dawn, a sense of powerlessness consumed me, as I knew I couldn’t possibly understand all of what he was having to endure. But I did know that each of our current positions was like being ship wrecked and stranded on two different islands, unable to see each others view. He couldn’t understand my sideline view as his number one supporter no more than I could understand his field view as the key player. So I cried out to God again, asking for a word that would some how bridge our islands together, allowing us to both experience a bit of peace, comfort and understanding while in the midst of this storm. God then answered my cry, and reminded me of the importance of “Love” and what it means to truly “Love”. For Love endures all things. In Love, in spite of the view, I was reminded that no matter what circumstance, I will continue to stand at my husbands side, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, and in sickness and in health . . . and I know from my innermost being, his Love for me, no matter what the view or circumstance, would be just the same.

As I woke this morning, I took a step back in time, remembering the events of this very day. It was thirteen years ago today at approximately 2 am in the morning when the phone range with a voice on the other end crying out, “Get to the hospital, we are losing her”. I’ll never forget those words, as my mind and body raced to get out of the house and travel at break neck speed, praying that I might just get to see her alive, even if for just one more brief moment in time. But it was too late. Upon my arrival, she was already gone, my mom had died. I remember it as if it were yesterday, standing beside her bed, gazing over her lifeless body, with tubes still attached, my heart was broken, and the pain I felt was like no other. I was numb, and the thought of having to leave her room left me with the stark reality that I was never going see her again. And now, thirteen years later, although time has healed the immediate wounds of that day, I still miss her just the same. I wish she was still here to share life with, to laugh with, and to cry with. But she’s not. So today I hold on to the memories of her life, celebrating in the faith and hope that in eternity one day I will see her again, and appreciating each day as it comes, knowing that the life I have been provided for today, is an amazing gift given to me from a Loving and Caring God

Sitting in my office today, I found myself reflecting upon two different worlds. One that claims life is about what I do and the other that claims life is about how I feel. But what happens when these two worlds collide? When neither one are able to continue with being viable sources for determining what life is truly about, causing a space in between and an emptiness inside. Such is the place where I remember my mom residing in for years, as multiple sclerosis slowly ate away at her very being. Today, I find myself standing once again on the side lines of that very same place, having to watch the life of another one for whom I love (my husband), being turned, twisted, and hung out to dry, all for the sake of a cure, and the write-off of a clean bill of health. So how do I cope with having to reside on the side lines of all of this, as the sidelines are not only a difficult place to be, but often times forgotten too, as some of you may already know? The answer is, I grab a hold of hope. A hope that reminds me that this place is but for only a season, and it will pass. A hope in knowing that this place will provide to me a wealth of experience that God will transform into something beautiful, good, and pure. A hope that reveals to me daily the reality of an eternal dimension to this world whose claim is not about what I do, or how I feel, but rather about who I know, and today beyond my circumstance and how I might feel within it, I am so thankful for God, and being able to have a personal and up close relationship with Him!

Remember when you couldn’t wait for days such as Birthdays, Christmas, or Graduation, or milestones such as the day you would begin to drive, get married, or have kids? I do! I even at times wish I could go back to the day in which I longed for days such as those. Time past though is just that, time past, and the season I am in today has created within me a longing of a different kind. Maybe some of you can even relate. Today I long for my husband to be restored to good health. Today I long for the day in which we are able to create new experiences filled with joyful memories. Today I long for family and embracing every moment and opportunity to be spent with them. Today I long to always appreciate friends and those around me, both near and far. Today I long to be the kind of person God created me to be. Today I long to plant seeds and build bridges, in order to do the the work that God specifically designed for me to do.  What do you long for . . . . .

Yesterday, as I was sitting in the corner booth attempting to eat this thing called lunch, I began reflecting upon family, friends, life, and circumstances, which when put all together, apparently can lead to a train wreck of emotions. I was alone, which seemed to help a little, that is, until I was asked, “Is everything ok ma’am”? My answer, “Yes, I’m ok”, as my watery eyes resisted the rain storm that would have surely followed had I said anything else. Alone again, I began reflecting more upon those words, “I’m ok”, and that’s when it suddenly hit me. The truth was, no, I wasn’t ok! I was having a really difficult day struggling with the crashing wave of emotions caused by circumstances that were out of my control, while at the same time telling myself, “I have to be strong!” Then all at once it hit me, “Why can’t I be both?” What a revelation . . . you mean I could actually give myself permission to hurt, to cry, and to feel, and have it not negate my ability to remain strong. The answer is YES!! In Christ I have faith and hope, and through allowing myself to feel, I am reminded that I am human

Well, many have asked if I have been keeping record of everything that has been going on within my life this past year, and the answer is no! I have been keeping most of my feelings, emotions, and struggles through this past year bottled up inside while at the same time doing everything I can to keep my mind, my body, and my spirit in tact as if this year hadn’t presented any of the challenges, that I along with most of you know that it had. But how does one cope with the death of a parent, an aunt, two dogs, and the sickness of a spouse in less than a year, and still remain faithful, holding on to the hope that tomorrow will be better, while at the same time, dealing with the feelings that go along with just being human? The answer is not a simple one as most of you already know. My thought though, is that although the mind and the heart are in close proximity to one another, there is a hidden tension that rests in between, which is why I have decided to begin blogging about my life, past and present, and how each day I have been learning how to manage the tension, while standing upon the foundation of faith, holding on to the hope of a better day, while not denying the mere reality that I am still human. So with that, I invite you to come along on this journey with me so that we may share with one another in faith, in hope, and in humanity.