Death Grip

Most of the time and in most situations, I'm quite guarded about sharing the longings and depth of feeling in my heart. There seems to be an assumption (on my part) that it is "unacceptable" to unmask the beast, so to speak. It isn't that I'm not authentic, I suppose I'm just not fully authentic for fear it would scare most people away. There is likely some wisdom to that.... knowing the "time and place" to be fully exposed emotionally/spiritually. I would say that this phenomenon I experience is the cause of a certain sense of loneliness amongst believers.... fully functional, active believers can quite honestly feel very, very alone.

My Uncle, my mom's only sibling, was the model, stereotypical, highly-praised Christian man. He was single, devoted to music ministry, a gifted pianist, and a missionary t'boot. He owned umpteen bibles, umpteen cds, and umpteen Christian books. He had scripture scribbled EVERYWHERE....on post-its and note cards all over his house. By any typical church standard, he really had it together.

A few months ago, I received one of the worst phone calls of my life. I had gone out for a long jog. In fact I ran more than 4 miles that particular day. I was exhausted, but in a good way. I love to jog alone, with no music, and meditate or talk to the Lord.. As I was walking up to my front door, my oldest son greeted me with a look of distress on his face. He said, "Uncle Cary is dead, mom. Uncle Cary is dead. You have to call Aunt Stacia." I immediately thought he had a heart attack or there was a terrible accident. I called my sister who was crying and could hardly speak. She handed the phone off to my brother-in-law who told me that Cary had taken his own life. I honestly don't know how actresses do it, because I don't think I could ever replicate the horror that instantly came out of me. I have never made those sounds nor have I ever cried like that before. I was overwhelmed by grief, sadness, and deep, deep despair. How could this have happened? How could this be real?

The weeks that followed were just full of things that no one wants to do or experience. Since he was single, my sisters and I went through his personal things basically, so my mother wouldn't have to. We sorted through the typical junk and stuff everyone has in their house. In our pilfering, we came across his personal notes and journals. They were full of despair. Such sadness, grief, anger, and despair. He was disconnected from the body......isolated and alone. Did he reach out? Did he try? I am convinced that his heart was so guarded, that no one knew the depths of his authentic self. No one was allowed in for assumed rejection or disdain. What a torturous place to be.


I really haven't known what to do with a lot of my feelings towards my uncle. If it is one thing I've learned about death, it is that life doesn't stop for it. My kids and my husband have all needed me at the same rate as before my uncle died. Once I returned home, there were meals to cook, lessons to teach, and laundry to do (as always). I pressed on with the immediate, not knowing how to process the past. I thought I would just "move on," but every now and then I'm overcome by the loss of him. He was such a gift. An amazing gift to this world. Why didn't he know it? He was surrounded by love. He just couldn't see it.... He just couldn't see it.

For Real?

I've mentioned before that my kids are so "conversational" at bedtime... well, tonight Jenna's question was: "So, are you naturally my mother?? Or was I lost or something and came to you guys? ....like I was lost in the woods or something?"

For real?? Glad we got that cleared up by her 7th birthday.

10 again

Tonight I had a jogging date with my next door neighbor, Alisha. We haven't ran together in a while and I was looking forward to having a conversation with a human while getting my exercise. We left a few minutes early because it looked like rain, but that never deters us anyhow.

Honest to God, half a mile into our run in DOWNPOURS. I mean horizontal, pelting, stinging rain. We were screaming, laughing, and soaked. COMPLETELY soaked. We were offered a ride by a creepy old man, but decided to take cover under a stranger's doorstep for a few minutes until it stopped. We soon realized that it was NOT going to stop and the only option was to run back home in the pelting, stinging, horizontal rain. Again we laughed, screamed and looked utterly ridiculous I'm sure.

I got back home, left my clothes in a pile in the kitchen and ran for dry clothes. My wet clothes left a huge puddle on my kitchen floor........I totally couldn't believe how much water I was wearing. By the time I got changed I looked at the clock - 8pm. I looked outside - clearing and sunny, no rain. The original time we were supposed to jog?? 8 o'clock. For real?? Sure called that one wrong!!

I think God knew that today I needed to run in the rain, laughing and screaming with a girlfriend just like we were ten all over again. It did my soul good.

True Love

I always spend some snuggle time with each of my kids at bedtime. Since I have FOUR, I have to psych myself up for it a lot of times. I get tired and cranky and just plain tempted to skip it. The thing that keeps me going is that it seems everyone is contemplative at the end of the day, and some of our best "talks" and questions come out then. Well last night, out of the blue, Jenna turns to me and says, "Mom... I'd rather die than you ever have to die."

Wow. She's six and I think she just tagged the meaning of True Love.

All Shook Up

I suppose that title sort of sums up my insides lately. I wish it were just a cute reference to an Elvis song, but not so. I have just felt off. Insecure, rattled, vulnerable, scared, and needy. I absolutely hate feeling those things, by the way.

There is nothing like a trip to the bottom of the pit to remind me what "trust," "rely," and "refuge" actually mean. Those words seem so trivial when all is right with the world (or my world, rather).

I don't know...

Ok, really. I don't know what my problem is. I get out of the blogging habit and then I just can't get started again. It's like ignoring a messy room. The longer you shut the door, the harder it seems to open the door and just clean it already! So, maybe by posting the short, uninformative, and dumb blurb I will feel like I "started" blogging again :-)

Still going, "hmmmmm."

" 'I've learned that any time my success depends on another person's response, I will manipulate them.' "

Authentic Relationships
W. Jacobsen


manipulate (v.): To influence people in a clever way so that they do what you want them to do.

Try replacing the word "success" in the above quote with anything that comes to mind... like: happiness, feeling of acceptance, status, fulfillment, etc. Sheds some light, eh?