Today Marked Seven Months As a Family of Three

Seven months. It sounds so long, yet so short at the same time. It seems like time has stood still, while at the same time so much has happened. I could never imagine a life without Kevin in it. Now I am living it. And it's hard. And some days just suck. But, if I am being honest, it has been bearable. Doable. Not because of anything that I have done, but because God is so good. He lavishes us with grace upon grace. He fulfills every promise and provides for every need. His word is a balm to my weary heart and aching soul. He is the God who saves and He's preparing a place for His children where there is no more sin, no more pain, no more sorrow. Just joy. Pure joy!

Today I did something I wasn't sure I was going to be able to do, but once again, God lavished me with grace and turned it into a beautiful time. Tonight I spent an hour at Kevin's resurrection spot (thanks, Bob Wathen for that beautiful term!) I was nervous going, mainly because, honestly, I wasn't sure I could find it. And I almost didn't. I knew the general area and just started looking for empty vases (Kevin's marker was just placed on Friday and we hadn't been there, yet.) I had a hard time finding it because, to my pleasure and surprise, someone had already been there and placed flowers in his vase. Made me cry. I have the best family, framily, and church family. So much so that I still don't know who put them there and the list of possibilities is so long I'd never be able to guess.

The Lord really blessed my time there, as I sat with my phone playing beautiful music and I looked through scriptures the Lord had given me through the last year and looking over all the prayer requests that God has answered in the last year. Even the ones He answered in ways that would not be what I had chosen. Here are a few pics from the evening.

 Wearing his thumbprint around my neck.

 Isn't it beautiful? Oh, how much more beautiful it will be when all the dead in Christ will rise!

 That yellow blanket is Kevin's from high school. It might even be older than that, I'm not sure.

 This was from a study I did last year. I love that Kevin is seeing that he is also all those thing, yet in their fullest and truest meaning!

 There were tears, and some rain, but it was a beautiful, God-filled time.

 I wrote these in early 2016 when Kevin was wanting to change churches and I was really struggling with being submissive and loving and encouraging and supportive to him. I love that every one of these is still true, even after all the hard and grief.

 Still praying this prayer!

 It's all still true!!!!!! God is so good.

 Clearly, I need to see and hear things more than once for them to sink in. Thankfully, God is patient.

 AMEN! Kevin will never again see the enemy or his destructive lies and deceit. Addiction will never be seen in his life again!

 This may be the "Heather McSmith Version' of this verse.

 While most of the answers didn't come the way I would have chosen, all these prayers (and many more) have been answered in the last seven months.

Though I didn't have room for all the words I wanted to put on his marker, this is the scripture reference that is on it. I am so thankful for the truth in these verses. 

Father, I don't understand Your ways. I don't know why You chose to answer my prayers for Kevin's healing by taking him home instead of healing him here and allowing him to be a testimony of Your healing power. But Your ways are higher than my ways. You see all and know all and I trust that You do what is best in all situations. Lord, I have no idea how You are going to redeem this story. How You will take this broken, hurtful story that didn't end the way I wanted it to for Your glory? How will this story point other addicts and their spouses to You when the ending wasn't one of recovery and peace and a life lived well? I doubt that anything good can come from this, that there will be any redemption in this brokenness, yet I know that You promise to make all things new and right ONE DAY. I look forward to that ONE DAY. Father, in the meantime, fill my heart and lips with Your praise. Teach my heart and mind to trust You in all things at all times. Let my children see You more fully as the good, good Father that You are. Oh, Lord, light the path You have for us, one step at a time. 

PS--Here's a song I've fallen in love with lately. Sound of a Living Heart by JJ Heller is a beautiful reminder to me that being real and raw and honest is the only way to heal. Hiding doesn't help. I also love the line "lift my voice and sing my part." I love the beauty that my story is just one small chapter in the big story that is God's story. I love that my story is but one part of the beautiful song that God has written. And the song isn't complete without my part. If I keep quiet and refuse to see and share God's grace and mercy in my life this beautiful song He has written will be incomplete. Though right now I feel passionless and useless and have no clue how God wants to use me, I know this, right now my part includes sharing all the God-moments He's created in our lives. In the good. The bad. The hard. The sweet. The joyful. The sorrowful. 

Daylight

I love the song Daylight by JJ Heller (I'll have a link at the end of the post) and listen to it on repeat pretty much every day. The words are beautiful and heartfelt. It was written from the heart of one who struggles with depression, but fits this roller coaster of grief well.

Lord, I've been afraid for so long.
Oh, how this is me! From the moment I realized what was really going on with Kevin (addiction and depression) I was afraid. Afraid of so many things. Afraid of speaking truth and letting people know what was really going on. Afraid of letting people in. Afraid of making things worse for Kevin. Afraid of making Kevin angry for talking to others when I knew how much it would shame him. Afraid. Afraid. Afraid. Every decision was made from a place of fear. And it was a terrible place to be. Few good decisions are made when they are based on fear.

I have prayed so many times to be strong.
Amen! I can't say "yes" loud enough. That was in my prayers almost daily. I am almost embarrassed to admit, however, is that I was praying to be strong in the wrong areas for the wrong things. I should have been praying for strength to speak truth, to be strong when it came to truly helping Kevin, for strength to let others in to the real, hard, messy of our life. Instead, I was praying for strength to be quiet and calm, to be submissive to requests made by my husband who was not in a healthy frame of mind and was unable to think clearly and make logical decisions. I regret not begging God for those first things instead, but I pray that I have learned from those mistakes and can be stronger in my trust and faith, and more open and honest, even with the hard and ugly.

I sit here in the desert making circles in the sand, but You're telling me that Your the promised land.
When I heard the last part of that sentence I caught my breath. There it was, in JJ Heller's beautiful voice, and it felt like God was telling me exactly what the purpose of all my pain and grief truly was: HE IS THE PROMISED LAND! Not marriage. Not a family. Not all the things I've had on my list. HIM. GOD. He is the gift, the reward, the JOY, the everything. I can't really put it into words, but I know that believing that makes all the difference. All.the.difference. The pain, the grief, the sorrow, even the journey isn't the point. Those things aren't the end. He is the end. HE IS THE END!

There is an inch of daylight underneath the door. It's enough to for me to fill up my canteen.
Some days feel so dark. So many days there seems to be no joy, no peace, no light. But, when we train our eyes to find the light (yeah, that's another JJ Heller line in another song I love! Saving that post for my birthday!) As a precious friend recently said in a meeting (I am looking at you, LD), it's so easy to see our circumstances, see our grief, and only pull out the tragic pictures. But when we look closer, we see so much light, so many pictures of grace. And you know what? All we need is an inch of daylight underneath the door to give us the hope to go on. And it's there. I promise. You may have to look hard. Squint. Lean in close. But the light is there.

Food and water are only buying time. If I want to live, Your love is what I need.
Yes, we need food and water to survive, but to sustain life and hope and love and grace here in this broken world, it's His love that we must have to keep going. Even when, especially when, the days are hard and you don't want to get out of bed, read His word. Trust His promises. Cry out to Him. Let His love overwhelm you. That's what will keep you going.

I'm scared to death of taking the wrong turn. Peace is something nobody can earn.
Oh man, so much of the last two years has been lived in fear of doing the wrong thing; in Kevin's eyes, in the eyes of my friends, in the eyes of my family, in the eyes of my church family. There was absolutely no peace. And there is never anything you can do to earn peace, no matter how "good" you are. Peace comes from Christ alone. It is a gift. Christ is peace. He fills us with a peace that is beyond all understanding. Beyond our simple language. Just beyond.

There's no chance now of losing, when You've given me Your love. You healed the disease I was dying of.
Amen! Amen! Amen! No matter what ails you, physically or mentally or spiritually, God is the cure. And God is the victory. Hear me, that healing may not look like you think, but the healing is there. For some, healing is physical healing. For others, healing is knowing that God is in control, no matter what. It might just be that healing is His peace in the midst of your pain, even though nothing has changed. Still for others, healing is leaving this earth to join their Heavenly Father for eternity.

The bridge of the song is the cry I probably utter most. It's uttered in those times when I have no words. In times when I feel desperate and doubtful. It's the prayer I need to utter every moment of the day. And it's the perfect ending to this post:
Be near me. Be near me, now. Be near me. Be near me, now.

Take a few moments and listen to this beautiful song:
Daylight by JJ Heller

Some Days I Feel Like I Am Going Crazy

Today is one of those days. I know I've said it before, more than once, but grief is hard. And long. And unpredictable. Most days are good. I keep it together. There are smiles and laughter and fun. Sweet memories are talked about and new ones are made.

But then, there are other days. Days like today. More memories than my brain or emotions can handle come flooding back. Tears seem to fall for no reason. I am undone over the smallest, silliest things. I seriously feel like a crazy person some days. So often big things don't bother me at all and the little things are just too much to handle. I feel silly, selfish, and guilty about everything. I am tired and weary. I feel like I've been grieving since April of last year and I just want to be done. So many days I see a light at the end of the tunnel. Some days are so dark the grief seems endless. It's back and forth and back and forth.

I must confess, I've only seen Kevin's grave once. The day we buried him. I didn't go before and I haven't been back since. I feel guilty because I don't feel guilty. I have no idea why, but I feel absolutely no attachment to it. It was really hard to choose his headstone, but I loved the proof and can't wait to see it in person when it is finished, yet I just don't want to go see it actually on the grave. I have no idea why. Maybe I am worried about how I will react. I was watching a movie the other day that showed a widow just sitting at her husband's grave, unable to leave. I don't feel that way at all. And I feel guilty that I don't feel that way. Do people think I don't miss Kevin? That I didn't love him because I don't grieve him that way?

Yet, I cannot give up the need to go to a corn maze every weekend. That was our tradition the last few years. Those corn mazes were the few times during addiction that he enjoyed time with us. Smiled. Laughed. Was the Kevin that we knew and loved. Especially last year. Finding a way to get to at least one corn maze every weekend has become an obsession. To the exclusion of pretty much everything else. About this, I feel silly and guilty. Selfish. Self-absorbed. I cleaned out the closet with little struggle. I rearranged his dresser drawers with few tears. The amount of things I cleared out of storage was huge. There was very little attachment to those things. For most of them, I snapped a picture and was able to toss it or donate it. But these corn mazes. I can't let them go. Am I a crazy person?

I feel no need to visit his grave, yet I cannot bring myself to have our church directory picture taken without him in it. I don't want there to be people who ever know our family without him. I don't want a family picture that Megan didn't take. I feel heartless and too full of emotions at the same time. I didn't even know that was possible! I feel completely unstable at times, while at other times I feel so in control and good to go.

BUT GOD has been steady. He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. No matter how crazy I feel, how up and down my emotions are, how happy or sad I feel, He is my rock. He goes before me, follows behind me, and hems me in on all sides. He saw every one of my days before one of them were lived. Every.one.of.them. Nothing has taken Him by surprise. He knows my every need before I give voice to any of them. He knows I feel crazy. He knows I am high maintenance. He knows I am tired and weary. He loves me anyway. He doesn't sleep or slumber. He hears every prayer. He will redeem every tear. To these truths I cling, even when I feel emotional and crazy. When I feel overwhelmed, I force myself to turn to His word to remember that He loves me and knows me and takes care of me. I make lists of His provisions. I list the JOYS He's given. I remember that all is grace; life, death, salvation, waiting. All.is.grace.

Oh, Father, train my heart and eyes to look to You at all times. Give me a steadfast faith that will withstand the ups and downs of my emotions and grief. Give me clarity of mind to trust You and not my emotions when I feel overwhelmed. Make me more like You each day.

Late Night Rambling

Tonight I read chapter one of the book When God Doesn't Fix It by Laura Story. I knew that it was going to be a hard read because, well, I am living "when God doesn't fix it." My emotions are raw. Everything reminds me of Kevin. Tears often flow freely. Especially at home. At night after the kids are in bed. When I am sitting here in my room with no one to see the tears. As you can guess, sitting in my room alone reading this book at 10:30 at night was a recipe for a hot mess. I did not disappoint!

SPOILER ALERT:
If the rest of the book is like chapter one, I may not make it through. As she was describing the issues her husband was having: couldn't stay awake, forgetful, unable to hold conversation, etc, I was transported through the last three years. Those were all things that Kevin displayed as a result of depression and addiction. When she revealed that her husband was displaying these things as the result of a brain tumor, my first thought was, "I wish it had been a brain tumor."

How heartless. How thoughtless. I feel horrible that I even had that thought. Like Laura and her husband, Kevin and I spent countless hours on our knees crying and begging God to remove this disease. This thorn in the flesh. And nothing. To his dying day he struggled. If we'd been fighting a brain tumor, it would have been an honorable fight. Instead, because it was addiction, it felt shameful and lonely, for both of us. If he'd had a brain tumor I wouldn't have had to spend my days wondering whether he really ever loved or cared for me or the kids. If he'd had a brain tumor he would have felt like he could share and let others in. If he'd had a brain tumor I wouldn't have had to fight the feeling that he was always choosing the drug over our family (even though that was never the case.) Before I understood even the tiny bit I do about addiction, I begged God to make me sick, with anything (cancer, brain tumor, whatever it would take) so Kevin would see how badly the kids needed him and he would just stop being stupid and stubborn and come to his senses. Now I know that was a ridiculous thought and an even more ridiculous request. There were moments when I think I knew he would never recover. The depression was too strong, Satan's lies to deep, and his hope too thin. I don't know what I could have done to change things, but this I know: Kevin's death was an answer to our desperate pleas and cries for deliverance. Is there any better deliverance than complete and total healing and worshiping at Christ's feet? Can I still worship when His answer was so drastically different than the answer I truly expected?

You all, I was praying expecting a very different answer than I got. In my mind I could see his healing here on earth, the two of us ministering together and sharing our testimony of deliverance to those who so desperately needed to hear it. I prayed believing that Kevin was going to be 100% healed here on earth and would stand as a beautiful testimony to the power of our God. How could I pray in faith, believing one thing would happen, and then the exact opposite is what actually happens? Was I praying wrong? Was there a sin in my life keeping God from hearing my prayers? Was God not answering because Kevin wasn't saved in the first place? Why did God answer similar prayers for others and not for us? I have no answers. I don't know why the Lord answered our prayers this way. I don't know why the kids and I are still here and Kevin isn't. There are days I struggle to think that waking up here on this earth is a gift. That there's any grace in still being on this planet when Heaven is my home. Waking up in Heaven would be grace. Being here almost seems like punishment in comparison to the joy that awaits in Heaven.

However, the truth is that ALL IS GRACE. ALL IS GIFT. Even waking up here. Without my husband. Filled with the shame of a death caused by addiction. Filled with the regret of not being able to help him while he was here. Able to walk beside my children and show them God's love and faithfulness each day. To pray fervently for their salvation and the new lives they will have in Christ. To live out for them a life of trusting and waiting on Christ, in the good and the bad. I am here to know Christ and to make Him known. To love God and love people.

Oh, Father, please don't ever stop drawing me to You. Let Your face shine upon me. Upon Sophie. Upon Ethan. Draw Ethan to You and fill him with the Holy Spirit to lead him and guide to a life that is poured out for You in any way You ask. Continue to grow Sophie to be more and more like You each day. Fill our hearts with a love and passion for Your word. Fill us with a love for the precious people You have created and placed around us. Oh, Father, may those who see fear You rejoice when they see us, because we have put our hope in Your word. (Psalm 119:74.)

Five Months

This Wednesday (Aug. 10) will mark five months since my beloved husband passed away. Five months. Almost half a year. How is that even possible? How is it possible we're all still here, still moving, still putting one foot in front of the other, without you?

So much has changed in these last five months. I've learned to ask for help. I've learned to do a lot of things I never thought I could. I've learned to pray more fervently. I've learned to sleep alone. I've learned to trust God for even the smallest thing. I've learned, that even when God is providing every thing we could possibly need, I still often initially turn to fear and worry. I've learned that God truly does redeem our stories.

Lately, I've been reading a book that dives into the book of Ruth. The story in that book has become much more meaningful since becoming a widow. It's a reminder of God's love and provision for each of us, particularly the least of these. It has been convicting to look at Ruth and see how well she loves others, even in the midst of her own deep grief. Her husband has died. She has no children. She has left her family and the only culture she has known to follow her mother-in-law to love and care for her in her old age. Who does that? How did she do that? If there's been anything I've been in the last five months, it's been selfish and inwardly focused. I can't imagine how she can be so devoted, so loving, and so hard working while she is in such deep grief. Oh, that I would have that kind of love for those the Lord has placed around me.

Here's one thing that hasn't changed:

I love this ring. I remember how angry I was the day Kevin was, unbeknownst to me, picking it out. We were all going to see Willie Aames (Bibleman) and Brady Williams (Cypher) in a Bibleman Live show and Kevin was so late I'm pretty sure he missed part of the show. I was so angry with him. He knew how important it was to me that he be there to meet these two people I was working with, but he was still late. (And if you know Kevin, you know that's just the way he lived his life. Always late. I'll never understand people like that!) Of course, the night he proposed was pretty crazy, too! (Just ask Joe Banderman, Sabrina Brookshire, or Kevin's brother, Chris.) But, I have to say, I am glad he was late that night because this ring is beautiful! I loved it the moment I saw it! (Though I would have said yes whether he had a ring or not!) I just can't bring myself to take it off, yet. I'm not ready for that very visible sign to the world that I am single. That there's no husband. No father. I'm sure some day I'll be ready for that, but not today. Also, I've gained a lot of weight since Kevin put this ring on my finger and it's pretty tight. And barely comes off. And is way too small for the ring finger on my left hand. So, for now, it'll stay right where it is!

This week brought many opportunities to be angry. Angry at the situation we know find ourselves in. Angry at the choices Kevin made. Angry at addiction for stealing my husband and my children's father. Angry that Satan is here to steal, kill, and destroy. Angry that things always have to be so hard and have so many steps. Angry that I don't turn to Christ first when I am angry and frustrated. BUT GOD is so good. So forgiving. So loving. So comforting. I needed the reminder several times this week to lean in to Him and let go of the anger, pride, fear, and selfishness. I am sure this will not be the last time I'll need that reminder!

We've survived a lot of firsts and still have seven month's worth of more firsts, but we'll make it. We'll make because the Lord sustains. Provides. Heals. Protects. Leads. Guides. Saves. Redeems. And so much more.

Oh, Father, keep me focused on You alone. Use the scary moments to draw me to You. Use the fearful moments to draw me to You. Use the frustrating moments to draw me to You. Oh, Father, lead me to the Rock that is higher than I!

A Little Update

Well, it's August. Next week will mark 5 months since my beloved Kevin passed away. In some ways the time has flown by, in others, it feels like it's been creeping. Most days it just all feels a little surreal. Life will forever be marked with a "before Kevin", "with Kevin", and "after Kevin." I hate everything about that. We were supposed to be going on a cruise in January. We were supposed to see both of our children saved, together. We were supposed to be together until we were too old to scoot around anymore. Alas, that is not the story that God has written for us. Though most days it's really hard to see, His story is always better than any we would write for ourselves. He sees the whole picture, beginning to end, and knows just what it will take to make each of us more like Him. Sometimes, that hurts. At least here on earth. In the end, we'll all agree that it's worth it. In the meantime, it's trusting Him, reading His word, and putting one foot in front of the other each day.

We've had a gloriously blessed summer. We've spent most of it on the road doing a lot of firsts. It would not have been possible without family and friends opening their homes so we didn't have to stay in hotels, covering the cost of plane tickets, allowing us to use their friend passes to amusement/water parks, Read to Succeed providing free Six Flags tickets for my kid's hard work, and so much more that I am sure I will remember after I hit publish. We have tons of pictures and lots of precious memories. Only one small trip left and then we have to really buckle down and get ready for school. (I've given up hope of starting full-time until after Labor Day, so until then I am hoping to get in some review between now and then.)

It's been awhile, so here are some ways you can be praying for us right now:

Rest. I need rest. True, deep rest. I wake up each morning tired and only get more tired throughout the day. I've been sleeping better than ever, but just can't get rid of the tiredness. I know a large part of that is just grief. That's just life right now. But, honestly, it's gotten old and life must continue. School must happen. Laundry must happen. Life must happen. It's really hard to do that when I can barely keep my eyes open.

School. I am asking the Lord to renew my passion for homeschooling. This will in turn make school more fun and exciting for all of us. I need the energy to do more projects and fun things than we did last year. I need to get organized and stick to a plan. I am also asking the Lord to give my children a love for learning. I am praying that the more we get into the school year the more they will just soak it up.

Salvation. Most of you probably know that Sophie gave her life to Christ a little over a week ago! Hallelujah! She has been excited to tell her friends, but very shy about telling anyone else. Would you pray that the Lord will give her courage and boldness to share what God has done? Pray that He would give her the right words to express what God has done (when you are young and there's no huge life change, it's hard to find the words to express how life is different. As one who came to Christ at a young age, I know this struggle first-hand.) We have already seen that her sharing a short little amount with one of her cousins is bearing fruit as he is know seeking Christ and asking about being saved. May this continue each time she shares! May her testimony lead to Ethan seeing his need to accept salvation!

Direction. I feel lost. Like I am just out there floating in the middle of the ocean with no boat, no paddle, and no idea where to go. I truly believe that God will use all this ugly, messy, chaotic grief for His glory, but I have no idea how. I have no idea what next steps He wants me to take or how I can use this to declare Him as I keep moving forward. I know it's early still, but with a new school year starting, the house sorted, and things picking back up again, it feels like the new chapter is truly starting but I have no idea where it's going. Please pray that any unbelief in God's sovereignty and guiding over my life would be gone. Pray that I could step back, let go, and let God lead in every area: school, job, service, everything.

Kevin's Estate. We've run into a little hiccup with Kevin's estate, which means I cannot do some things for a customer that need to be done. They are being very gracious and my lawyer is awesome and will help me get it figured out, but in the meantime, it's really frustrating. And causing me to be scared about the future and wonder whether it will all be resolved as it should be in October. I don't want to fear. I want to bravely trust the God who has proven Himself faithful and true over and over again in the last five months. I have no reason to believe that He will stop providing now. Pray that I will trust, even in the unknown.

Next Tasks. This week I have two things I really need to get done and nothing in me is looking forward to doing them. First, I need to go to the DMV and get a new title without Kevin's name. Everytime I have to turn in a copy of his death certificate is just hard, in so many ways. It's heartbreaking, shameful, and just hard. And it's the DMV. So add those together and it's just no fun! I also need to get prices for his grave marker this week. I know exactly what I want it to say, I just have to actually go and do it. This will make things seem so final. So over. So finished. But it must happen. (Though Kevin would probably have preferred his plot remain anonymous!) Pray that the Lord will grant me strength and, selfishly, no ugly crying in the midst of it. I just want to walk in and do it and get those things checked off the list.

Quiet Time. Quiet times this summer have been very sporadic because we haven't been at home. I am never in routine when I am home. Please pray that I will be able rise at least 30 minutes before the children to have a deeper prayer time. Pray over the quiet time the children and I have, at the same time, but separately. Pray that the Lord will give all three of us a hunger and love for His word. Pray that God will show me how to aid the children in having a meaningful and memorable quiet time.

Bedtime. Another casualty of summer traveling has been our bedtime routine. We had such a sweet time those first few months. Then we hit the road and it all fell apart. Please join me in praying that the Lord will restore that routine. Pray that the Lord will give me an energy and love for the bedtime routine that just doesn't come naturally to me. This is one of the things both kids miss most about Kevin, that time with just him at the end of the day.

Thank you all so much for your love and support through these last 5 months. Words can never express. (And if you haven't gotten a thank you card, I greatly apologize. I have a pile that has literally been sitting on my table for 5 months that I keep forgetting to take to church to hand out. It doesn't mean I am not grateful, just that I'm forgetful.)

Things Just Got A Little More Real

My Love,
Today, it got much more real that you are gone. Really gone. Today we turned your office into our school room. When we moved into this house back in 2007 there was really nothing in the basement except bad carpet. You looked at it an knew right away that we could have a storage/laundry area, a living room, and the office you needed for the business you were about to start. Though you had never done anything like this before, you got your idea on paper and you got to work. We had some help from friends and family, but for the most part, you just did it. All of it. Dry wall, mudding (that's where the help from friends and family really came in handy), electrical, tile, everything. When it came time to do the carpet you knew your limit and hired a member of the church family who was about to head out to the mission field halfway around the world. You dreamed up and designed your office and you put it together on your own. At least, I don't really remember anyone helping. (Forgive me if I am forgetting someone. It was a long time ago and a lot has happened since then.)

As I began dismantling all that you had put together I was overwhelmed by so many things. First of all, I have no idea how in the world you put this monster together on your own. It was a beast to take apart. All at once I was marveling at and cursing you for building things so well. Your attention to detail was amazing and your determination to make exactly what you wanted work is unmatched. (And made my task that much harder.) That was one sturdy desk! By the time I got to the last piece I had to have the kids help me!

I was also overwhelmed by how much I've changed since you passed away. I'm not sure you'd even recognize me. (Not sure whether that's good or bad!) I remember one of the first things the counselor at Valley Hope said to us was that, with addiction, there's no such thing as "you're back!" You are never the same again. The "you" you were before addiction is forever changed. There are bits and pieces of that person that will still be there, but as a whole, that person no longer exists. I am here to tell you that's not just true for addiction. It's true for grief, too. (Well, really, it's just true for life.) The "me" before March 10, 2016 is forever changed. This part of my life will always be "after Kevin." I cry more, I feel more, I ask for help more. I am stronger (physically and mentally) than I ever dreamed possible. Did you ever, in your wildest imagination, think that I would just go grab a drill and dismantle that monster of a desk? Never would that have happened before March 10. I wouldn't have called a company to schedule them to come do something for the house. I wouldn't have called and fought with health insurance. I wouldn't have accepted meals or clean laundry or new floors. It would have never felt so good to put so much sweat into a new room. I never would have prayed so fervently or with such a sense of urgency for the salvation of our children. God is doing a work. I am not sure what that work is, yet, but I can't help but smile at the thought He may have already given you a glimpse.

I had to give a little chuckle at the fact that it was a school room we were making! Never, in a million years, did either one of us think we would even need a school room. Homeschooling was not something either of us planned or hoped to do. We were a little blindsided when we felt God telling us that's what He wanted us to do for our children. If we'd had the space, you would have made me a room when we started homeschooling back when Sophie started Kindergarten. If I had an option, I'd give up the school room in a heartbeat to have you back instead. All three of us would. But, that's not the life we've been given, so I'll just thank you for providing us a room and a blank canvas to make it our own, even though that wasn't your intent for making this room all those years ago.

I was overwhelmed by how much wood was in that room! It filled the living room once I got it all out. But now, I am so thankful you had all of that. All but a little over 20 small pieces of wood that we used in the school room were some part of that monster of a desk. I love that! I love that your hard work is still all over that room. We'll see it and know it every time we enter. The kids love it, too! They feel so big knowing they are sitting at daddy's desk in daddy's comfy office chairs. (Thanks for not getting rid of the old one when you got the new one, by the way! For once, your refusal to get rid of things worked in my favor!) The most expensive thing we bought was the paint. You always looked out for us, and this time you didn't even know you were!

I was overwhelmed with gratitude that you insisted we be debt free (well, all but the house.) Honestly, that is the only reason we can even homeschool now. You worked hard to pay off my student loans, pay off the credit card, and pay off my car. You worked hard in your business to afford paying cash for your truck and you worked even harder to be able to pay cash for our van. You never bought a piece of music equipment without selling something else to pay for it. Again, you had no idea how well you were taking care of us for the future by doing that at the time, but we are reaping the benefits today. Without that, we wouldn't even need this room. I know I never thanked you for that when I could, but I truly am so thankful for your intentional, hard work in this area.

I was overwhelmed at the finality of it all. No more office. No.more.office. I honestly couldn't even picture it. I wasn't sure the day would come. And at the end, I couldn't really even make decisions anymore. (Huge thanks to my family for just doing it and making it work. Which, in and of itself, was a beautiful tribute to you because you would have done the exact same thing!) Erasing your handwriting from your white board was nearly my undoing. But I knew it had to be done. We love you so much. We miss you more than our mere words could ever express. I want to stop time and reverse it and go back to hold your hand one more time. Give you one more kiss. Sleep in with you one more morning. Have just one more conversation. Watch one more episode of The West Wing. But I can't. And I can't live in that. I can't let the kids live in that. Sure, those moments will come and, like John Piper says, we'll "Occasionally weep deeply over the life you hoped would be. Grieve the losses. Then wash your face. Trust God. And embrace the life you have." I admit, I took a few moments before I started taking apart the desk and sat in your chair at the desk one last time. I leaned over it, just the way you were when I found you that terrible, ugly beautiful morning (ugly for me, beautiful for you) and just cried. I cried for all the firsts you've already missed and will miss. Cried for all the times our kids will feel alone and left out because they are the only ones without a dad. Cried for all the anniversaries we won't get to celebrate. Cried for all the birthdays, recitals, graduations, weddings, grandchildren, and so much more we won't be experiencing together. I cried for the years when the kids are out of the house that I'll spend without you by my side. I cried for the family mission trips we so longed for that will now have one less person. I cried and cried. Then I washed my face (OK, not literally, I would have had to walk upstairs to do that and you and I both know I am just too lazy for that when there is work to do in the basement), laid it all at God's feet knowing I could trust the outcome to Him (after all, He saw all of my days before even one of them was lived), and got to work embracing the life I have. And being grateful for it. How many people have family who would give up their whole weekend to redo one little school room? Even after their truck broke down on the way here. And they were up at 1:30 that morning taking their child to the airport to leave the country for the first time. And when they couldn't come themselves, still sent their husband even though it meant being at home with a very sick child all alone. My.family.rocks. They just do. I wish everyone could have them. Except I don't want to share them. I am (hashtag)blessed. And I mean that. There are too many fish to count. My net is bursting wide open!

So, my love, here we go. The next chapter truly will be starting when we have that first day of school (which will be much later than usual because I have done not.one.thing to be ready for the school year. I know, you're shocked. I am the queen of being ready too soon and being overly prepared. We'll just consider it an homage to you!) I am not sure I am 100% ready, but then again, I am not sure I ever really will be so, here I go. We're jumping off the cliff. I wish we were holding hands and jumping together, but I know that God's got my hand and, as much as I love you, His hand is better. Stronger. Wiser. Perfect. With God, all things are possible. Even continuing to move and breathe and live life when it feels like half of me has been ripped away. Even finding His beautiful gifts in the midst of the messy and ugly and chaotic of this broken world. Even taking apart a monster desk that weighs more than our children. 

Lord, give me the strength to keep my eyes on You. Give me the courage to keep moving toward You when life gets to be too much; when I want to give up and let go. Use every moment of each day to reveal more of Yourself to me and to my children. Call Sophie. Call Ethan. Adopt them. Give them new hearts and make them new creations. Fill them with Your Holy Spirit that they may spend their lives pouring themselves out in Your name. Give them a hunger and thirst for your word, for prayer, and for true righteousness. Oh, Father, use all three of us for Your glory! Use this school room to draw all three of us closer to You and to enable us to have the skills needed to share You with those near us and those around the world. Lord, we have but one life here on this earth. Teach us how to make it count.

A Summer of Firsts

July 10 marks four months since Kevin breathed his last here on this old, broken Earth. In some ways, I can't believe the time has gone so quickly. In other ways, it feels like the days are just dragging by as slowly as possible. I miss him so much, every day. Mornings and nights are the hardest because there just isn't anything else with which to occupy my mind. We always ended our nights watching TV together. I love watching "our shows" (The West Wing, Sherlock, Studio Sixty, Sports Night, The Office, etc) and remembering all the things that he would laugh at and all the times he laughed at me for getting so involved in the lives of fake people. I watch something new and can decide in about 5 minutes whether it's something he would like or not. There are one or two shows that we hadn't finished watching and, so far, I haven't been able to bring myself to finish those without him. I don't even have the desire to watch them again, yet. Maybe some day.

Through Instagram and Facebook I've been marking this year of firsts without this amazing man in our lives. We've had some really high highs and some really low lows, BUT GOD is with us and for us and getting us through each day. Even the ones filled with tears.

This is our first summer without Kevin and it's been our craziest summer in a long time! Here are just a few of the firsts we've celebrated this summer:

Our first vacation:
This vacation was taken in three phases. First, we headed to AR to see some precious friends. Then, on to VA to visit Kevin's family. Last, we went to IL for the 12th Annual Hazelwood Family July 4th Campout.

Our most exciting phase was the trip to VA. This was our first ever trip to this state. (Kevin had been before but the kids and I hadn't.) It's beautiful and full of history. We drove about 3 hours for our first trip to Washington, D.C. Kevin had been there on a business trip back in November so we did our best to recreate the photos he took then. That was sentimental to me, but fun for the kids. I couldn't pick a favorite, but both kids chose the Lincoln Memorial as they're favorite part of that trip. (It may have had something to do with the fact that the edge of the steps was like a slide. Every kid chose to come down that "slide" rather than walk down the steps.) I can't wait until they are a little older and we can go back to stay a little longer. I'd love to do more museums, see the other side of the White House, visit Arlington, and so much more!

We also got to head to the ocean! Sophie saw the ocean at 13 months but this was Ethan's first time. Without hesitation, E tells everyone this was his favorite part of the trip. It was mine, too! We had such a blast. We could have stayed there for days. It was a really windy day so there were lots of waves, lots of giggling, and lots of fun! I sure hope I get to take them back again one day. I find water to be one of the most amazing creations. Water is powerful and can do such good or such harm. It amazes me.

We also visited Historic Jamestowne while we were there. It was pretty amazing to walk in the actual steps, on the actual ground, where the first European settlers walked. It was very humbling to look over the history and see how selfish and hateful so many of them were. It was comforting to see that many, however, really just wanted a new life, a new adventure, and were willing to work hard to get it. We were able to see lots of artifacts they had recovered and were even able to watch a group of archaeologists working to find more.

There were lots of other things in between there in VA, but I won't bore you with all those details. The last phase was the most relaxing. We have come to love and look so forward to our family camp out each year. (Don't be fooled, I don't sleep in a tent unless there is absolutely no other option. I share my parent's camper.) Unlike the last few years, the temps were low and we were actually wearing long sleeves and sweatshirts most of the time. The kids had a blast just fishing and playing and using their imaginations. The adults had fun just having conversation with other adults!

We actually ended that portion of vacation with my sister and her family here in Hannibal. We toured the Mark Twain Cave, visited the Hannibal History Museum, and ate lunch at the Mark Twain Dinette. So fun! It was the kid's first time to go through the cave.

Here are some pics from vacation:

Our first anniversary without Kevin:
June 14 would have been our 13th anniversary. The day started and ended with tears, but thanks to some amazing friends, there was a lot of love and laughter in between. The day even included and awkward meal at a Japanese steakhouse with the most awkward chef I've ever seen. We'll be laughing about that for years to come! I also bought a dress that day in Kevin's honor. He loved me in yellow and I found a yellow dress he would have loved. I admit, I cried in the dressing room when I put it on and it fit.

Our first Father's Day with no daddy:
Honestly, this was absolutely the hardest day so far this summer. The hard started the night before as I just about had a panic attack even thinking about the day. We had prepared ahead of time with notes and gift cards to hand out because E had asked if we could celebrate Father's Day the same way we celebrated his birthday. Somehow, Kevin's birthday was not as hard as Father's Day. His birthday felt like a day of joy and love and blessings and Father's Day just felt hard and ugly and empty. I think that is mostly due to the fact that, though others have birthdays the same day as Kevin's, it was mostly a day that just we were celebrating. Father's Day is a day that everyone celebrates so it felt more empty and we really felt different for the first time since he passed away. I tried really hard not to let the kids or the rest of the family see how hard it was so I didn't take away from the day for them, so I waited until bed time and just laid there and cried. Crying felt really good that night. I know those kinds of days and feelings will come more and more as the kids get older and realize there's no dad for camp out and dances and fishing trips and daddy/daughter dates. I am praying the Lord holds all of our hands through those days!

Smaller firsts:
We also flew without Kevin for the first time. It went really well. I only had to have one awkward conversation on the plane, so that was a sweet little gift from God! I hate talking to strangers! I bought a grill on my own for the first time (though my dad did help me choose the kind of the grill that would work for me) and even made my first meal on it. Huge thanks to my brother-in-law for putting it together for me and to a dear friend's husband for bringing propane. We are very spoiled! It was the first time returning home from a long trip knowing that Kevin wasn't there waiting for us. That made it a little less exciting to come home, if I am being honest! God was with us the whole time and continued to provide all we needed, in ways we never expected. He has comforted me with His word, provided financially, given me just the texts I needed when I needed them. and never went anywhere even when I cried and threw tantrums and expressed my confusion, fear, and anger. He is so good!

We still have a little more traveling to do before the summer is over and I am sure there will be a few more firsts before school starts this fall. Some days are just overwhelming and I don't want to get out of bed. Some days my heart is so much lighter and I get a lot accomplished. My parenting is super sporadic, but when I'm the fun mom I'm way more fun than I ever have been before and, sadly, when I am the bummer mom I am even more grumpy than usual. I try to be honest with the kids in those low times and let them know I am just missing daddy and things are hard without him. A few times we've all expressed that at the same time. I know more of those kinds of times are coming, too.

Lord, teach me to grieve well. To grieve honestly. Lord, don't let my grieving keep me from seeing the needs around me, especially the needs of my children, my church family, and my community. Father, open the eyes and hearts of my children to see their need for You. Let today be the day of salvation for them. Make them new creations with new hearts that have a hunger and thirst for You, Your word, and serving those You've created without reserve. Teach me how to be the example of all that to them. Lord, move. Move us past the grief. Move us past our selfishness. Move us past our fear. Move us past our hurt. Move us past our confusion. Move us closer to You.