I like to move it, move it

Today I said a prayer for my niece. She has fear in her heart. Not the, “Mommy it’s dark outside can you leave a light on” fear. Not a “there is a monster under my bed” fear. Not even a “the thunder scares me” fear. No, she has a fear that is not quite so easily dismissed.

Twelve months ago today I called my life to find out why she was late for lunch. She didn’t answer. 365 days ago I sent repeated text and made repeated phone calls that went unanswered. It was not unlike my wife to be late for something. It was not unlike my wife to sleep in after a long night at work. But it WAS unlike her to not answer her phone. So I finally looked at my staff and told them I was going home to check on her to see why she wasn’t answering her phone. I didn’t expect to find anything other than my wife in the shower, unable to answer the phone.

That’s not what I found.

I walked into the bedroom and noticed the bed was unmade but she was not in it. Instead she was collapsed at the foot of the bed. 

And this is the fear that grips my niece. This is the reason she looks at me, and every other adult in her life, and asks if we are okay. This is why she is afraid to take her eyes off her gran. And why every little cough or sneeze has her brow furrow with concern. And, today, one year from when her aunt was rushed to the hospital to live out her final 6 days, she worries about her mom who lies in a hospital bed recovering from routine surgery.

How do you deal with a child who has already had to face a grown up fear so early in her life? Someone who has seen her young cousin as well as her aunt taken from her. If you thought this post was going to bring you an answer I apologize and you can stop reading because you will not find anything definitive here.

Too many adults in my life face the same fears. I’ve been through it enough to know that I’ll go through it again. Loss is inevitable. There is nothing I can do to stop it. And there is nothing I can do to stop the worry in my little niece’s heart. I can only pray. I can pray for the same peace that overwhelms me when the pain bubbles up. I can pray that she will let God overcome the spirit of fear. I can pray for her mom to pull through the surgery with flying colors.

What about the children in your life? How do they handle grief? Her siblings all handle it quite differently. Some don’t mind talking about their aunt or even their cousin (much to the horror of many adults who think they are shielding me from their prying questions). And they aren’t alone. Many a child wants to ask me questions about “why her die?”. And, I don’t have an answer. Explaining death to a child, whether that be the death of a person or of a goldfish, is beyond me. In the end, no matter how you explain it, you will never get to see that person, or goldfish, ever again. At least this side of heaven. And even then I can’t promise a child they would ever see their goldfish again (And, while I miss Spike, I’ve never focused a blog post on him), because I don’t know if all goldfish go to heaven.

However you try to explain death to a child there is little comfort in the answer. Explaining death to an adult is not much easier. The only answer I have is based on a couple of questions for you. Did your life begin the day you moved into the place you now live? Will it end if you move out of that place and into another? That’s how I feel about the life we have on this earth. My life did not begin when I moved into this body I currently inhabit. (Psalm 139:16 - Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one came to be). My life does not end when I move out of this body. (Hebrews 11:16 Instead, they were longing for a better country - a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for He has prepared a city for them.)

So, while this brings only a little comfort to me, my child and my wife have moved. They no longer live here. They have finally moved home. I know this will not comfort my niece and dispel her fears, but perhaps she will find some solace in the fact that, when we move on from here we will get to move home with our Father (John 14:2 My Father’s house has many rooms; if it were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you?)

I’m moving on until one day I get to move on. Care to join me?

ChChChCh Changes

Change. They say change is good. And I can't disagree. At least not 100%. But I really believe that the change the proverbial "they" is referring to is change that you choose to make. Not change that is forced on you. I've never been totally resistant to change. At least in many areas of my life. Things change and so you must change with them. In my business I have found this to be true. In my personal life as well. But I have found that resistance to change is elevated in my personal life. 

In business I know I am not operating as I was even ten years ago. I must follow the current of the marketplace. Computers are an integral part of my operations whereas they were simply a necessary evil at the turn of the millennium. The products I sell and the way they are fabricated have also undergone some wholesale changes. And all of these changes truly are for the better. 

In my personal life the changes over that same time period have been much more drastic. First, learning to live without my child. Missing those things I once begrudgingly attended. No more dance recitals. No more soccer games. No more noisy sleep-overs. But also, no more snuggles with my little girl in my lap. No more donut runs. No more daddy-daughter date nights. Now, even more recently, learning to live without my spouse. I would like to think that if I knew where I would be today, if I knew how much I would progress and how to make that progression 11 months ago, that it would've made things so much easier last June. But I would be lying to myself. The changes I have undergone have been forced upon me. Just today I found another simple reason to miss my bride. And it was a purely selfish reason. I got too much sun. I have no one to apply the soothing lotion to my back. I have no one to scratch it when it itches so bad as it heals. Yes, some changes really (insert your adjective here).

The other thing I have noticed is how much I have changed over the last quarter of a century. Changes that both my child and my wife caused me to make. The lid - both of them- gets put down EVERY time. My shoes come off at the door. The dishes are cleaned before I head to bed. I shave in the shower because it makes it easier to clean up. Dirt and clutter bother me. I put away all of my toys before going to bed. I remain a gentleman around the ladies... mostly. 

In the last eleven months there have been a number of other changes I have had to make. I wash my own clothes every time. I pay the bills. I've learned how to sleep in the bed alone (except for my daughter's stuffed dog). I pick out my own clothes. I pack my own suitcase when I go on trips. I cook. Well, that last one is a bit of a stretch. The list is endless. But I've noticed how much of these things I do I choose to do my wife's old way. I try to honor her that way. 

Now is the time to face the biggest change though. The change in my heart. My love for my wife will never go away. And anyone that chooses to spend any of the rest of my life with me knows that or they don't get to spend any of the rest of my life with me. My heart has scabbed over. There are scars. It is bruised and beaten. It has been pressed, persecuted, struck down, but it has not been crushed, abandoned or destroyed. The attacks of the devil have been numerous and they have knocked me to my knees. I fall down. But I get up. And now it is time for me to step out there and truly see what this heart wants for the rest of my life. More importantly it's time for me to see what the Lord wants for my heart. And one day, maybe months from now, maybe years, I hope to be able to share with you, dear reader, how God can restore if you'll let Him.