Car Accident on the Avenue

Car Accident on the Avenue

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I've been thinking a lot lately along these lines, death is as close as our next breath. If you have the time to follow the link it's a picture of a totaled car in which some of my family members were traveling. Amazingly, they are both as OK as they can possibly be in the circumstances.

However, death could have come a calling in this situation. I also have been thinking death is probably most difficult for us left behind. We're left with the pain, the heartache, the hole, and without the person that was special to us and loved us. The person who died, well, I suppose maybe once you're dead, that's that.

Ironically or perhaps miraculously these two family members are the same ones who drove me to Des Moines when my mother was in the ICU. It seems somewhat unfair and it's difficult to think that now they are in the ICU. In case you have never visited anyone in the ICU, once you do, you will never forget how heart-breaking it is to see someone you love in such condition. All you want to do is pick them up, wrap them in your arms, and take them away from the machines and the cold sterile room and take them somewhere warm and safe. Take them home.

Dwelling on things such as these is heavy duty. Yet the death-rate is 100%. Eventually.

Sometimes I yearn so much that I could just have my time be up. I still believe in heaven. I still believe I will be held in the arms of God. I still believe I will see my Mom again. This is why I yearn to be there. Sometimes. Especially on days when I am reminded how close death is.

In any case. It's another contemplative day.

We Are the World

I posted this video (ha. yeah still learning how to do that) because I watched it and enjoyed it.


This video also made me think of the fact that all these people are coming together and how much this is probably how they all started out. Singing in Choir or with friends or at church or school.

Their voices are lovely together. It's a meaningful project.

I thought it was cheesy at first. But after watching it, I felt differently. Hopefully if you haven't seen this video by now this is your prime opportunity.

Whispers.

This page seemed best left untouched.
Until music on a friend's blog left words itching at my fingertips.
There are treasured moments
When the times of sands meet and
The world rights itself for
Just a brief second.
Bringing Hope.
Renewal.
Passion.
And a sense that maybe,
Just maybe,
The scars that once brought us together
And then tore us apart,
Will finally fade into the distance.
And maybe then,
We can go back,
Crawl our way back,
To being a family.
Grief rains its pouring tears down.
Grief brings flood after flood of emotion and
Heartache.
Loss brings confusion, anger, hopelessness
Loneliness.
When four become three,
Three become
Alone.
And then more alone
Before time can bring
Us back.
Before the times of sands meet in a specific spot.
How do you reach healing and wholeness?
How do you recover after losing a part of
Your family Unit.
I would say,
One day at a time.
One painstaking tear after another.
One desperate grasp for understanding
And one ounce of acceptance at a
Time.
There is plenty to miss.
But there is more to live.
The steps continue.
Years out.
The times of sands run and run and run.
Once in a while,
They run into something,
Good.
Whole.
and
Healing.

Stars

When I worked at camp, one of my favorite things to do at night was to stare at the stars. They are beautiful there. Absolutely beautiful. I'd look up at the summer sky to the dots and feel safe, comfort, and awe. There is something about looking up at the stars that is calming to me.

Tonight I felt the same feeling. I don't usually bother to look up too often these days. I live in a city and the stars aren't always bright enough for me to really notice. But as I was driving, the sudden memory of looking up at the stars at camp brought me great peace. And so I looked up. Although it is a crisp and very cold Northern Iowa night (the kind of cold where you walk outside and can hardly breath), the sky was lovely. Clouds and stars combined in a symphony of comfort. Like a warm hot chocolate.

Perhaps it is God's wink to me. A reminder that He's just waiting for me to figure some things out, but that He's around, just like those stars are. I forget to look up and sometimes refuse to look up because it can be scary to think that you are so small and Something can possibly be so big. Especially when that really big thing doesn't always make a lot of sense. Sounds kind of like life.

I like the idea of stars shining on a dark night. I like the idea that there is always some sort of light shining down on us, either the sun or the sun's reflection, or the stars. It makes me think that in the midst of my own life that there is always some sort of light shining down on me. Even on those days when I try very hard to dodge that light. I'd call that light God. But more so I'd call signs of God hope. And that's what I need. I need hope.

"Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see" Hebrews.

I do not write on here often but when I do, the words pour from the depths of my soul and from the chambers of my heart. This is an example. I hope that you take time to look up at the stars tonight. That in the vast darkness, those stars, that light, will remind you to hope.

Love Is ____________________?

Is love tangible?
Is it the brush of a hand on yours?
Or perhaps a whisper in the dark.
Maybe it's a mother's smile.
A father's approval.
Or a brother's hug.
Maybe it's a friends tears.
Or a sister's home cooking.
A child's hand sliding into yours.
Is it something you can touch?
And feel
And embrace?
Perhaps love is spirit.
Not so much something you can touch.
But it IS something you know.
A fact.
Yet, it's nothing anyone can touch.
It's like the connection that
Occurs when you look into someone else's eyes.
Eye contact is an acknowledgment of the soul.
You exist. You hurt. You bleed.
By looking into my eyes
You tell me you see me.
Love is not sex.
Though sex is a part of it.
Love runs deeper than an orgasm
Or kiss.
It's a river that runs through one person
And overflows to another.
Spirit.
It's perhaps the purest motivator of human action.
We all seek it out in one form or another.
From one person or another.
It's not hearts and happiness.
It's not butterflies and rainbows.
Love runs deeper than
Momentary flutters
Initial head over heels flight.
Though.
Those are a part of it.
It ties us together
And it rips us apart.
Love opens our hearts and
Breaks them
In the same breath.
Our souls were made to love.
Yet.
We still can't touch love.
We can't grasp the depth of
Love.
It is a comfort.
That I can't find the boundaries.
The limits of love.
That with love
You can
Hope
Dream
Believe
Grow
Live
And be comforted.

It's not so much being held as holding someone else.
It's not so much being safe as saving someone else.
It's not so much being treasured as treasuring.

I try and grasp the wings of the bird called
Love
Try and trap it and ask it questions
Understand it.
But I always end up throwing it back
Up into the air.
And

Let my own spirit overflow.

Snowed In

Well if you haven't heard about the snow in the Midwest yet, now you have!

Winter storms overtook us this week as the sky dumped a lot of snow on us. Schools were closed, the mall was closed, and cars were stuck.

In any case, this season I am happy to be in town for the Christmas time. There's something about Christmas songs and Christmas feelings and Christmas miracles that make me feel peace and awe.

It's even more relevant when there's snow on the ground and the air is sharp and cold. Scarves and hats and gloves and boots and snow forts abound. I missed all of those things last year. The feeling that winter was ushering in Christmas. Perhaps I should just admit to myself that I will always love the Midwest. The fields and the land and the sky and the snow. Looking out across it all and feeling a sense of belonging. Even though I grew up in the city, I find myself more and more enchanted with the opposite. Where I work is surrounded by fields and I can look out of the window in the morning, as I'm preparing for the children, and watch the sunrise across the flat fields. It may not sound very interesting, but to me it's beautiful.

My heart is content this Christmas season. I feel that footing I lost last year has been slowly regained inch by inch and in my life and my relationship that has been a good thing. It's funny to think about a year ago now, how unsettled, worried, anxious, and overwhelmed I felt. My future, my goals, my relationship, my plans, all seemed uncertain. It's been so nice to be a bit settled in a job I enjoy with kids that bring me smiles everyday. It's also been great to set new goals for myself and to really take steps to work toward career goals I didn't know I really had.

All in all, it's been a difficult year, but not one I regret.

I think I have a lot of hope. A lot of smiles. A lot of joy. Left in me to live out. I hope you do too.