The First Mother's Day

(Translation: Happy Mother's Day) 

Yes. Where I live, today is Mother's Day.

I was driving with a friend to a government office to get my car licensed on May 14th this year - Mother's Day in the U.S..  I said, "Today is Mother's day where I'm from!" She told me in this country there is no Father's day, but since Moms are so special, there is a Mother's day; it's December 21. I told her, "So that just means I get to celebrate my Mom twice a year!" 

I had no idea that would be the last time I'd ever get to tell my Mom how much I cherished her on a day made just for Moms. 

I've read that all the "firsts" are tough. That proved true when I was at Changi airport again. When I went back to Benan. When I passed the "Welcome to Batam" sign. When I crossed Barelang bridge again. Went back to Grand Mall. When I zombie-walked through Thanksgiving. When I joined friends for a "Thanksmas" celebration. My heart is still not ready to "celebrate" anything. 

So, today is another first without her. Mother's day here. In four days, it will be my first Christmas since she left this earth. Five years ago, she and I traveled to Cancun for Christmas. We had so, so much fun traveling together. She was my best travel buddy. The next trip we were planning together is coming up in January - just a couple weeks. I will have to take that trip without her; though she holds a huge space in my heart and I will always carry her with me. Obviously, it is not the same.

Me & Mom Cancun-4-Christmas 2018

Dearest Mom, 

Happy Mother's Day in Paradise! Oh how I wish I could video call you and see your beautiful face, hear your sweet voice, talk to Cleo while she ignores me, and tell you that I love you second most. My heart aches for you. 

What keeps me sane is knowing that our Lord is loving you so much better than I ever could. He truly does love you most, and He just couldn't wait another day to hold you in His loving arms. I will do my best to get through these holidays with some smiles. 

Oh how I miss you. 

Always ~ Ang 

Magnificent Maria and Lucky

 

Magnificent Maria

I have the privilege of taking a 6 week sabbatical over the holidays this year. Of that time, I chose to spend a couple weeks with the Lord in Thailand. A place where I don't speak the language, and I don't know anyone at all. It's perfect. 

I have been here 6 days now. Days full of prayer, rest in the Lord, exploration, and marveling at His incredible creation. I have been following along in my Advent devotionals, I've read 2 books (The Grieving Brain by Mary-Frances O'Conner, and The Wild Edge of Sorrow by Frances Weller), and I spent much of today looking at Jesus' ministry in the first 22 Chapters of Matthew...I will finish it tomorrow. 

Thus far, something I have noticed about myself is that I need time to settle into a place before I can manage to focus deeply on anything. Perhaps that is my personality, perhaps it is a flaw in the same. My purpose for this trip is to seek God and be released from the immensely strong grip of sorrow and grief. To lay it at His feet. I feel there is an expectation for me to be further along in the process. If I was just a stronger Christian, surely I would be making more "progress." The more I read about grief and loss, the more I realize how utterly ridiculous it is for people to expect that of me (or anyone else). 

I am also coming to a deep realization that I have put way too much weight on others' ideals and expectations of me. The only One whose expectations matter is Jesus and He calls me His masterpiece. He knows my heart, my struggle, my devotion to Him, my shortcomings--ALL of it, and He would never look at me with disappointed, patronizing eyes. He compassionately loves me just the way I am. 

My Lord is here, patiently waiting for me to lay it down. I am trying. Perhaps a bit too hard. I am almost...afraid? to let myself enter back into that deeply painful well of emotion, but I know that if I want to release it, I must first welcome its presence. It is part of me and will forever be. I just need to embrace the courage only God can grant me and let Him refine me through the pain. He will walk through it with me when I'm ready. I do feel an overwhelming peace that I know could only be from Him. He is patient. He is so, so good. 

One highlight of the week was meeting Maria, the magnificent creature in the photo above. I rode an elephant once at the zoo with my son when he was about 2, and I feel terrible about that now. These poor creatures are so mistreated and are not made to be ridden like that. I met Maria in an 'ethical sanctuary' where they rescue these amazing animals from abusive situations, like riding camps, the circus, zoos, and the like. I am happy they are in an ethical place, but still could feel their sadness--especially when we were walking with them in the jungle. They wanted to be free. The sanctuary staff made a sound that signaled them to "stay" or to go where they were told, and I could see the look in their eyes. They were reluctant to go back to being contained. 

Sadness. 

There were 4 elephants at this sanctuary. Maria was the biggest and had been there longest. There was Angie(56y/o) rescued 6 months ago, and Lucky(4y/o) rescued just 4 months ago. Lucky became an orphan when his mom died just 4 months ago (like me!). He liked to play and tumble, but the only elephant that likes him is Maria. The other 2 want nothing to do with him. So these two "strangers" have bonded. They look for each other and don't like being separated. They have found family in this sanctuary. I will be happy for the time they get to spend together, and pray that they are not ever mistreated again. 

 

Maria and Lucky in their happy place

On This Day 15 Years Ago

On This Day 15 years ago...

I knew I had made quite a detailed post about the things I was feeling the day I got that dreadful call about my Dad. So here I am today, just 127 days after the Lord took my Mom. 

I anticipated this anniversary date would be extra challenging, and it has definitely begun that way. I booked a 2-week sabbatical to deeply grieve my new status as an orphan. It doesn't matter how old you are when you become an orphan, if your parents are gone--you are an orphan and you feel it. God took Dad 2 weeks before Christmas, and he took Mom the day after my birthday. I won't pretend to understand His timing, but I do trust that it is perfect, and He is sovereign. 

Mom was there and helped me through the initial couple weeks, then a few years later she moved in with me for 11 years. Kory was by my side throughout the first year before he went off to college/marriage. 

This go around, I'm in a foreign country, alone. 

Perhaps soon, I will also be able to write about Mom...but for now, on this 15th anniversary of my first gut wrenching loss, I will just re-post my detailed description here. Those old wounds have opened up again. 

A Phone Call

Today is the 2nd (now 15th) anniversary of the day I received the most life changing news I'd ever received. One days before one of the most painful and worst days of my life. I'm at work and the phone rings....

Linda (crying): "Ang, I've got something to tell you, and it's not good news honey."

Me (mind racing): "What is it? Tell me!"

Linda: "It's your Dad honey...something happened..."

Me: "No! No it can't be...is he okay?"

Linda: "I'm afraid not honey, he's had a stroke...a bleed in his head and it's bad Ang, really bad. They don't think he can pull through."

Me: "I.....I.....don't know what to say. I'll be there as quickly as I can."

 A Frenzy

I'm immediately on the phone. I call the airlines and book a flight for me and Kory for noon that day. I tell my boss I'm going to have to go. I'm crying so hard I can't call Randy (my husband at the time) to come pick me up so my boss calls him for me.

A Trip

The next week is like a surreal dream. One I wish I could wake up from, but never did. Kory left school, I left work...we packed in a frenzy & were driven to the airport by a resentful man (because of the $ spent on the plane tickets) and we were on our way. A full day of flying. 6 hours of actual air time. It was so difficult to be 'social' with the happy people around me while my insides were screaming "Wipe the smile off your faces! Don't you understand?!?!" I ordered a glass of wine on the plane, hoping that it would calm my nerves just a bit. FAIL What can calm you at a time like this? When we arrived in Spokane, Mom picked us up from the airport (alone, thankfully...story for another day) and drove us straight to the ICU at Sacred Heart where Dad and the rest of the family was.

A Realization

I can not describe to this day the flood of emotions I felt when I saw him laying there in his hospital bed. Ventilator breathing for him. EKG leads hooked up to his chest. As an ICU nurse, this should have been at least a tiny bit manageable, right? WRONG. My knees buckled & Mom & Kory were there for me to grab for support. I thought, "Maybe if I walk over and touch his hand, he will respond somehow. There will surely be something left there.....surely" Once I composed myself and felt that my legs would actually hold me up to walk over to him...I went, slowly. I stood next to him and stared. I pulled up an eyelid to see if there was any hint of life in that beautiful blue eye. Nothing. It was as glazed over and empty as the hundreds I'd seen up until this point. I knew it was over for him. Had been over for him well before I arrived. They were gracious enough to keep the 'life support' going until I could be there to watch his few, remaining, involuntary system functions shut down. It didn't take but just a few minutes for me to start barking demands. "Turn it OFF!! Unplug it! He's gone, can't you see that? PLEASE! Get it off of him!" Immediately as they turned the ventilator off, my anger kicked in. The nurses didn't know what to do with me as I was ripping the monitor leads off his chest & fingers, pulling out the IVs. It was mere moments after they turned the machines off before I felt his heart stop beating. His body never tried to take another breath. He was really gone. My hero, my apostle Paul, my Dad was really gone.

A Fog

The next few days were a series of making arrangements for the funeral, his attire for the casket, who would ride with whom, what time to meet for this and that, the post funeral gathering where you 'make nice' with all the people who are there to pay condolences, blah blah blah. It was a fog. I walked through a faith shaking fog of despair and disbelief. I made attempts to socialize with my step sisters & step Mom (Linda), my Mom and her husband, my Nana...and anyone else who was present at the time, but I was in such a state I'm not sure I can describe or even understand myself the way I felt. Unsocial is an understatement. I did not want to talk to anyone about anything. I wanted Kory in the room with me, and nothing else. I tried to lean on Mom, and she tried (but was prevented by her ever so needy husband), to console me at one point after we left the hospital on that dreadful day. (It was then that I had to leave Mom and go stay at Nana's house until after the funeral because I was in no position to properly deal with this man.) Nana is a quiet woman, and she has been around the block, so she was very sensitive to me and my need to be silent. The way I was able to sleep was by drinking wine until I absolutely could not stay upright any longer, and even then the sleep was short lived. Yeah, there was a tear in my (beer) wine. Not the best way to deal with a crisis, but it's what I did.

A Gift 

For me, honestly, the best thing about the entire experience was the fact that I had an unbelieveably mature son by my side every second of the day who helped me hold myself together. I'm sure I would have made it through somehow, but he lightened my load so much just by being himself and simply being present. A true gift from God.

**Side note regarding this: Kory has not ever been one who can handle people being too touchy feely with him. He gives a quick hug, kiss on the cheek or forehead, but don't expect any cuddling or holding hands, etc. It's just not in his personality.

The entire trip, Kory was right next to me. It was almost as if he was trying to protect me from my feelings and the horror of the entire thing. He sat next to me with his hand on my shoulder. He let me hold on to him when I just couldn't take it anymore and I was breaking down. He didn't leave the room I was in except for bathroom breaks. He encouraged me to hang up the phone when my ex was hounding me about the cost of this trip. He was my sounding board. He let me sleep next to him on the queen sized hide-a-bed at Nana's house and he forfeited the double bed at Mom's house to sleep in the recliner next to Mom's couch, where I slept. He simply was my rock. He was just 17 years old, and he was my stronghold. He is so much like my Dad, that I guess I should have expected it, and many times I know I've taken him for granted, but he proved to me in this experience the stellar young man he was, and he continues to do so even today.

A Funeral

The day of the funeral (December 17th, 2008) was the day the snow began. Not just a little snow...a blizzard. While in Spokane, I was afforded the privelage of driving my Dad's Dodge Ram. I'm not a Dodge fan, but it was perfect for the task of maneuvering through the snow packed city. In the back window of Dad's truck in huge letters it said, "If you were tried in court today for being a Christian, would there be enough evidence to convict you?" Yes, my apostle Paul. I need not go into the background of Phillip Eugene Queen to explain the fact that his existence on earth truly parallelled Paul's. At the funeral, we (my step sisters and myself) were given the opportunity to give a eulogy on Dad's behalf. My step-sister, Amy got up first and she read a passage from the Bible....the very same passage I had intended to read.

2 Timothy 2

1. I charge thee therefore before God, and the Lord Jesus Christ, who shall judge the quick and the dead at his appearing and his kingdom;

2. Preach the work; be instant in season, out of season; reprove, rebuke, exhort with all long suffering and doctrine. 

3. For the time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine; but after their own lusts shall they heap to themselves teachers, having itching ears; 

4. and they shall turn away their ears fro the truth and shall be turned into fables. 

5 But watch thou in all things, endure afflictions, do the work of an evangelist, make full proof of thy ministry.

6 For I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand. 

7 I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith:

8 Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day: and not to me only, but unto all them also that love his appearing.

Amazing how two people who knew Dad in different ways would choose the exact same passage out of the Bible for his eulogy. It says much about the man he had grown to become. The man he was. The man I loved. My Dad.

A New Day 

After the funeral, Kory and I spent a couple days with Linda. We tried to console Larry (Dad's companion and devout Phil Queen fan, an African Grey Parrot.) Larry actually sat on my leg and puffed himself up to snooze...Linda said this was something Larry only did with Dad, and since that horrible day, he would not even do that with her. Larry sensed the connection. We helped shovel the snow that continued to fall throughout the next several days. We decided that he died exactly when he did just to get out of having to shovel. :) I know that Dad never would have actually done that, but it was a bit of much needed comic relief after a very grueling several days. Since the airports were closed due to the blizzard, we spent a couple days at Mom's after it was all over. We went sledding down the hill behind Mom's house, we went to 49 Degrees North and went skiing. We made the most out of the rest of the visit. Kory was literally waist deep in snow out in 9 mile where Mom lived at the time. It snowed ALOT! I love snow and had not seen any real snow for years (being stuck in Arkansas) so it was a blessing from God to give me something I truly loved to go along with the worst experience of my life.

A Thought

I know I'm not the only person to ever lose someone so close to me. I don't think there is really an 'appropriate' way to act or feel when it happens to you. I'm sure that things could have been done differently...(yes, it's me, the WAY over-analyzer) but we made it through. Yes, it's been 2 years now. I don't know when or if this pain will go away, but it is strong and steady still today. There's not a day that goes by in which I don't think about him. I will pick up my phone (in which his contact name & number remains...I can't delete it) sometimes and want to call and tell him something extraordinary, or pick his brain about a Biblical topic...I have to believe that somehow he still helps me out in whatever way a spirit can help us here...and I have to believe that he's in Christ's bosom, comforted.

I miss you every day Dad.

I know we'll see each other again on the other side!



Not a Particle of Strength

 This quote by George Müller, a great man of faith from the 1800s, resonated deeply with me. Likely due to the fact that I am that Christian who tries to carry my burdens. Somehow my pride convinces me that I can do it. I don't want to bother anyone else, so I will just "do it myself." 

DUH! 

It is only by the grace of God that I am even breathing! What on earth could I possibly do "myself?" Absolutely nothing. Just as the quote says, the more I try to carry on my own, the heavier each tiny little speck becomes. 

Jesus beckons us, "Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light." 

He wants to carry our burdens for us. He wants to give us rest. Not just a quick breather--but SOUL rest. 

Lord, may I trust You enough to lay every burden at your feet. May I never dishonor You by proclaiming to follow You whilst trying to carry my own burdens. I confess, Lord God, that I am weak and full of pride. I lay my pride down, Lord. I come humbly before You and surrender my...everything to You, Lord. May my life bring glory to Your name. Amen. 

Seeking Wisdom in Joseph's Story (4)

 Let's talk about that false accusation. (Genesis 39:19-20)

Actions have consequences, right?  Well, in this case, the innocent party suffered as one guilty while the one who spoke falsehood was left with nothing but her conscience to convict her. Joseph paid the consequences for her spiteful, fictitious accusation. It just feels wrong and backwards, doesn't it? Even knowing the end of the story is not much consolation for how the injustice of it feels. 

God is with Joseph and gives him the strength to maintain his integrity. Oh how hard would it have been to remain silent in the face of her lies and his resulting punishment and humiliation? How humble and full of faith he was. Scripture does not record a hint of retaliation on Joseph's part. Surely he was tempted to redeem his reputation and prove his innocence! Yet here he was, in Egypt, faced with her word against his. Naturally, Potiphar believed her and acted accordingly. Besides her and Joseph, God alone knew the truth. 

So Joseph patiently bears up first under his family's mistreatment, and now under this lying woman's accusations. His only satisfaction was God's favor and a clear conscience. 

Joseph could have tooted his own horn about his history of impeccable work ethic, loyalty, and leadership skills, but he remained quiet and humble. He knew that his value was in God alone, and he patiently waited for his Master's guidance. Joseph was a willing servant, ready to give God all the glory. 

Hebrews 12:1,2 Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin that so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. 

Joseph is cited among that great cloud of witnesses. His integrity, humility, and powerful faith in this encounter alone is awe inspiring. Enduring hardship and persecution while maintaining godly character is challenging and often feels impossible. Jesus was the only One to ever do so perfectly. The path He lays for us may look daunting at times, but when God is with us, we can not fail. 

I look forward to digging in and discovering more in the next part of his story. 

Seeking Wisdom in Joseph's Story (3)

Remember from last time that Joseph, the beloved son of Jacob, has just been betrayed by his own brothers and sold into slavery. He was purchased by Potiphar, the (Egyptian) captain of Pharaoh's guard.

Joseph's story continues in Genesis chapter 39. His life situation had just changed drastically. He went from being 'spoiled' as his father's favorite to being thrown away like trash by his own brothers. There must have been at least a brief period of fear and uncertainty for Joseph, right? Scripture doesn't specify. Whatever his feelings were, however, he proved to be virtuous and prudent from the very start.

"The Lord was with Joseph, so he became a successful man, and he was in the house of his master, the Egyptian." Genesis 39:2

God was with him! He maintained virtuous character regardless of what his own family had done to him. The Lord gave him success in everything he did. Joseph's work ethic was so good that Potiphar put him in charge of his house and all he owned! Indirectly, Potiphar reaped benefit through God's favor on Joseph. 

Potiphar's wife soon begins to lust after and pursues Joseph, begging him to sleep with her. He refuses, stating in verse 9, "...How then could I do this great evil and sin against God?"  It would have been easy enough, considering he had charge over the place but, again, he maintained his character and said no. So one day she catches Joseph alone. He still says no, even runs! She is angry and spiteful, and falsely accuses him so he is thrown into prison. 

Another drastic life change. What a rollercoaster! 

Thoughts for personal reflection: 

1. Psalm 37:23, "The steps of a man are established by the Lord and He delights in his way." Proverbs 16;9 The mind of man plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps. 

Sometimes I think God must chuckle at how "in control" we think we are of our life. We can make all kinds of plans, but ultimately it is God who lays the path. 

2. Joseph suffered great losses! His life as favorite son in the palace, his favored position of watching over his brothers, his family--especially Jacob,  his position of authority in Potiphar's house. Yet in the face of each major loss, he persisted with virtue and prudence. God was with him! 

3. Gen 39:2 "God was with him so he was a successful man." We need to realize that if we are prospering in life, work, etc, it is only because our Lord is with us. It is Him who causes us to succeed. Regardless what people do to try to derail us--even our own family--if God is with us, we can not fail. God may even use us to bless others. (The world was blessed through Abraham! "...I will bless you, and make your name great; and so you shall be a blessing." Genesis 12:2)  

We are blessed to be a blessing! 

4. Sometimes we have to get radical to avoid sin! I can't say with certainty whether I could run outside naked to flee a situation like the one Joseph was in. Especially if I was in such a position of power. That took a lot of grit and fortitude! Integrity is doing what's right, even when nobody is looking, right? Joseph knew God was present. His love for, and desire to serve God outweighed everything else! I aspire to that kind of faith and dedication to my Almighty!! 

Desperately Seeking...

 

Recently I saw this bouquet on a friend's coffee table. Initially, the bright colors drew me in. On close inspection, as you can see, it is made of something like legos. It's not real. From a distance, it looks as if it might genuinely be a freshly cut bouquet. The closer you get, the more clear it is that its flowers are artificial. 

That is what my world feels like since mom left this earth. I have been desperately seeking something real. Something solid I can hold onto. Yes, my faith is strong. Yes, I KNOW the Lord God is my Anchor and I am tethered to Him. That does not change the fact that I long for something. 

Of course, it makes sense that I just want my mom back. She was the one person who could listen to me think out loud, vent, verbally process my feelings--logic displaced or even absent--she could not have cared less. She was just there with open arms to listen. She patiently accepted me with all my flaws. She loved me agape-style. She told me every time we talked that she loved me and was proud of me. That I was "her person." 

And she was mine. 

"You don't know what you've got until it's gone" right? I did know though. I knew to my core what I had and I cherished it. I deeply cherished her while she was here. 

My encounters with people are...interesting. There is a clear expectation for me to function with the same level of logic, tolerance, and clear mindedness (None of which were top notch pre-loss, mind you). I should not, but I do attempt to communicate and function "normally" anyway. I fail. Essentially every time. 

I set boundaries, mainly to keep from subjecting others to my persistent grief state; my jumbled thoughts, emotions and M.I.A. ability to process. Then I fail to honor my own boundaries. Guess who would have just rolled with it? Who would never expect me to have a clear mind right now? Who would not tell me I have changed, I don't make any sense at all, I'm not joyful enough, I seem "down," I am illogical, I am ________________, or I am not____________? 

❤ MOM ❤

Do I expect special treatment? No. I suppose I am just desperately seeking a safe place...or person. Thus far, the nearest I've found is a Facebook group with hundreds of women who have lost their moms. I particularly recognize the ones whose relationships with their mom was as close as mine. They "get me." I could have written any of their thousands of posts. I could pour my heart out there, as many of those women do. They are real people, but I don't personally know them. I have yet to meet a "safe" person who understands. 

I will not downplay anyone's grief. Loss is brutal. I have experienced several profound losses (deaths) in my life-grandparents, relatives, dear friends....even my dad. I know grief is personal and excruciating in any case. However, nothing compares to this. Nothing. My grief counselor confirmed that people describe losing a same-sex parent as the deepest loss they've experienced. I was broken when I lost dad, but this has shattered me. 

It almost irritates me when people (especially women) who still have their moms expect me to be rationally processing life events. When people tell me I'm not making sense. Well guess what? Nothing makes sense right now! It has been 3 1/2 months since I lost my mother. My "Ride or Die." My best travel buddy. My first and best friend. 

My person. 

Remember that artificial bouquet? That is what my world looks like right now. A whole lot of words, packaged to (look) sound genuine, but if I drill down a bit--they are not. How can they be? People say they understand--and they may even believe it--but until they're in my shoes, they can not. It's simply impossible. 

One tidbit of advice from me after being just 3 1/2 months into the grief process: 

If you know someone who's lost their same sex parent, please do not expect them to be rational in their thoughts, speech, problem-solving ability, or anything else that requires a clear head. If you still have your parents, don't tell them you understand them. You do not. You can not. Regardless of how desperately you or they wish you could. 

It is lonely in this place. The only thing that holds me together is my relationship with Jesus. My Anchor...my Rock...my salvation...my hope. 

Lord Jesus, Bread of Life, I praise You with all that I am. Living Water, I feel parched. I need You to fill me. Pour Your Spirit into me until I am overflowing, Lord. Let my overflow bring Your name glory. I am nothing without You Lord. An empty shell, fragile and cracked. Fortify me with Your Sprit Lord. Make me like You. Precious Jesus, I surrender all to You. I am desperately seeking Your face. 

Offering

So here it is, my alabaster heart 

I'm keeping nothing back from who You are

No hidden treasure veiled by key or lock

You're a lifetime of worship and that's only just the start

Here it is, my every waking day

The minutes, hours, years of endless praise

'Cause You're worthy far beyond all I could say

There's a lifetime worth of worship in the nuance of Your names

 Let it rise like incense

My whole life a fragrance

Every ounce here broken at Your feet

Every breath an offering

My heart cries these lungs sing over You

My worthy King of Kings

There it is, Your alabaster cross

Giving all You are for all I'm not

I can't believe that's the kind of King You are

How could I not bring a lifetime worth of worship to You, God? 

All my love...all my heart

You can have it all.

~Kalley Heiligenthal~

100 Days

Dearest Mom, 

In about an hour, it will be the 100th day since you went home to Jesus. You know, it's also Milton's birthday...and the day before Norvin's. We are just a family full of one-offs! 

Here, where I live, people have a big celebration on the 100th day after someone leaves the earth. The thought of celebrating turns my stomach. When I see other people doing all the "fun" things...it's almost irritating. It's not that I want anyone to suffer. It just feels like when you left, my joy disappeared and hasn't come back yet. It's hard mom. Sometimes the pain overwhelms every ounce of me. There is so much tension between being beyond happy for you because you're in the arms of Jesus, yet also feeling the deepest devastation of knowing that I won't have another earthly moment beside you. 

I know you are in Paradise. I know that you are whole and pain free. I know you are in His presence. 

I know that is a reason to celebrate, but....

How can I when I also know....

No more road trips...or travel of any type together. 

No more holding hands. 

No more 3am phone calls.

No more hugs. 

No more kisses. 

No more of your playful little pinches. 

No more playing games. 

No more sharing fresh coconuts. 

I will lament, mom. 

If He wakes me up again tomorrow, I will praise our faithful Father and ask Him to let me feel a bit of joy on your 100th day with Him. 

Oh mom, I miss you so. 

 

Seeking Wisdom in Joseph's Story (2)

 I have not forgotten. I am still seeking wisdom from the story of Joseph (beginning in Genesis 37).

After Joseph's brothers go off to work feeding their father's flocks, their father (Jacob) sends Joseph to check up on them and report back to him. As previously noted: Joseph was great at being an inspector and "telling on them" to their father, Jacob. Joseph was ready & willing to go do so again. He had to do some searching, but with a little help he found them in Dothan. When Joseph's brothers saw him coming, they plotted to kill him. 

V20 says, "....We shall see what becomes of his dreams!" 

So their murderous ideas came from hearts of envy and revenge. Not necessarily against Joseph, specifically, but against the revelations he received from God through his dreams. I can't help but feel like a young Joseph, who had been blatantly favored by Jacob, might have had a bit of arrogance in the manner with which he delivered his dreams' content, but that is speculation because Scripture does not explicitly say so. 

Thankfully one brother, Reuben, wanted to save Joseph's life. He talked his brothers out of killing him but tossing him into a pit instead. He had his own secret plan to later return and get him out. Could Reuben have been seeking to gain a little favor from Jacob? Maybe. 

Joseph's brothers were sick of him and wanted to humiliate him. When he reached them, they stripped him of his special "coat of many colors," and threw him into a pit in the desert. Then they went to grab a bite to eat. I imagine the whole scene took Joseph by surprise. Surely the scene had begun in a similar manner many times before. 

So they look up from their meal and see a group of Ishmaelites approaching. Another brother, Judah, realizes they can not only get rid of Joseph without having to kill him, but make a profit from it also. They sold Joseph as a slave to the Ishmaelites. Reuben seemed distraught when he returned to the pit to find Joseph missing, but it appears he went along with his brothers to kill a goat, dip Joseph's coat in it, and bring it back to Jacob, claiming they found it this way and knew nothing of Joseph's fate. 

Jacob was inconsolable. How diabolically cruel of Joseph's brothers to give their father his special, bloody coat and let his imagination go wild. It seems their envy and thirst for revenge was not merely pointed at Joseph, but at Jacob also. 

Meanwhile, the Midianites who bought Joseph took him to Egypt and sold him to Potiphar, the captain of Pharaoh's guard. 

Just a few thoughts/questions I'm pondering from this portion of the story: 

1) At this point in the story, no one within it is aware of how God's plan will unfold. I wonder what Joseph is thinking: Was he terrified? Confused? Prayerful? Hopeful when they pulled him out of the pit? Calm and full of faith? Is he feeling any regret for consistently sharing his dreams/the way he shared them? Is he wondering what his dreams meant and how they could possibly come to fruition now that he is Potiphar's slave in Egypt?

2) Did that 20 shekels of silver satisfy the brothers' revenge craving? Did it sustain the satisfaction when they saw Jacob's reaction to the perceived, brutal death of his beloved son? Did they feel any regret at all? Did Reuben know what actually happened to Joseph? 

3) Life events, partial information, and misleading messages can cause our imagination to conjure up plenty of untruths. It is important to discover all the facts rather than make assumptions and jump to conclusions. 

4) Even after we have all the facts, the enemy will pounce every chance he gets. He will capitalize on our vulnerabilities to try and convince us that his evil lies are true. What we believe to be true will shape our actions. (Just as Jacob believed Joseph had been ripped to shreds & refused to be consoled). 

5) We are promised eternal life in Christ. How often do I allow my circumstances to drown out that perfect truth? 

We know the end of Joseph's story and that God's perfect plan was at work throughout his life. Pondering these thoughts & truths until next time. 

Sleep Deprived....Again

November 2. Today I will be grateful for this blog. It's been here all these years, patiently waiting for me to come back to it. No rush, no pressure.  

The first day I ever posted here: March 12, 2010

What did I say? 

This: 

Sleep Deprived

So.....I worked last night from 7pm to 7am, then I went home, packed some stuff & drove to Spokane to visit Mom & Nanna. I have travelled that road SO many times in my youth...but I never appreciated the magnificence of it. It is truly amazing to see what God created with simply a word. I am so blessed to have the opportunity to explore the many wonders He placed here for all to see. How can anyone deny our powerful Creator?

Who could have imagined that in September of 2021, I would go to Spokane and visit my Nanna for the last time? 

Who could have imagined that on March 12, 2023 (12 years after that post), I would be living overseas & mom would travel here to visit me; The last time either of us would travel to be together this side of Heaven. 

Who could have imagined how much sadness one heart can hold. How deep that sorrow can burrow in. How much I could miss one tiny, precious woman. 

So, here I am. Sleep deprived again but for a whole different reason. And still proclaiming the glory and awe of our powerful Creator. 

86 Days

My best travel buddy

I can't believe it's November 1st already. 86 days since mom went to be with Jesus. I used to make "thankful" posts on social media for each day in November. Today, my Facebook memories brought up my post from 11/1/2017, 

"I am grateful to have my wonderful & loving mom close by 💚

#day1

#joinmeinbeingthankful" 

And she commented, "And I am thankful to have YOU"

Today, I will be thankful for her sweet, tender heart and the memory of her beautiful smile. 

I miss her. 

💔

 

Dearest Mom,

 

Dearest Mom, 

I sure do miss you. Guess where I went Friday...? Back to your favorite island. I didn't want to go without you, but God gave me the strength to push through it. He is such a good and faithful God. The way He changed several aspects of the trip made it less painful. We left from a different dock, arrived at a different spot, and took a totally different route back too. 

I did my best not to dwell on my sadness. Our friends there were sad too. They remember how strong you were. Whenever I see them, they talk about how strong you were to travel all the way here by yourself just to visit me. They were so tender with me. We talked about you fondly and remembered the short time they spent with you. They are going to be looking after me, mom.No one on earth could possibly do that as well as you, but they sure are going to try. The couple I stay with told me that since we have all lost our parents and since I'm older, I can be their mom now. 

You wouldn't believe it. They have a picture of me on their family wall! They greeted me at the ferry dock like my own little cheering squad. 

God is providing support to help hold me up mom. In the moments when I feel like I can't take one more step, the Comforter swoops in and carries me. It's still so, so hard to comprehend that I won't ever get to hold your hand, or hug you, or just look into your sweet face and tell you how much I love you again...

But I know the One who holds you is bringing you more joy and comfort than I ever could. 

He loves you most. 

I love you second most--Always. 

Your loving daughter, Ang

Fallen Countenance...and Calendars

 

 This is my perpetual calendar. My grandpa made it. He was very talented. He made beautiful calligraphy pieces, drafting type pieces, and all sorts of crafty things. 

 An interesting aversion I have developed since my mom died in August is one toward planners and calendars. I feel almost angry when I see them. (We can make our plans, but the Lord determines our steps!) When I returned to my host country after dealing with mom's affairs in early Sept, my calendars were still sitting on August as if nothing happened. I blacked out Aug 7th (the day she died) on all of them and did not change them over until I made it to October. Yay--I made it to October. 

Perhaps you noticed I used past tense when referring to my grandpa. That's because he died in 1994...on October 25th. That's 29 years ago today. What's interesting about this is that I have been carrying & using this calendar ever since. It's been through a LOT.   

Last night I was emotionally melting down as I have often done recently. I write letters to my mom because she's really the only person I can talk to. Perhaps she hears. Perhaps not. At any rate, I will write to her because it helps me feel....something. Last night in my letter, I mentioned that it was the anniversary of grandpa's death (her dad) and wondered if they were together. Are they in the same place. I was a brand new believer when he died and had not ever really thought about Heaven, Hell, or Paradise....so I didn't ever have the conversation with him. I hate to think of him not being in Paradise, but it's just a big unknown. 

I often ask Jesus to give me a sign that mom's with Him and that she's at peace. I feel deep in my soul that she is, but still it never hurts to ask Jesus for something, right. 

When I woke up this morning, my perpetual calendar was on the floor. It was hanging in a spot where it is virtually untouched except when it's time to switch months. The hanger is old, but is not worn at all. It was perfectly in one piece 3 weeks ago when I changed it to October and hung it back up. If it had been worn, the ware would have been in the top, middle of the hanger piece that rests on the nail it's hung from. As you can see in the photo, that is not the case. That is a clean cut in an awful strange spot. 

I'm not saying this was a sign, but I find it hugely coincidental that this happened on the anniversary of my grandpa's death, 2 1/2 months after my mom's death, in the middle of the night after I was asking if they are in the same place. I don't know what to make of it, but like I said yesterday, I don't believe in "coincidence." 

Learning Lessons (Joseph's Story 1)

I pray that I never reach a time that I think I know enough. That it's time to stop learning. That I'm the smartest one in the room. 

I love to learn. 

Learning requires listening. Hearing what is said and what is not said. Paying attention to the circumstances and taking context into account. Being curious. Realizing we may not understand what we see and having the humility to ask clarifying questions. 

I've always said that I don't believe in coincidence so, for me, part of learning is investigating what the Lord is trying to teach me through them. This week, He has made the story of Joseph (Genesis 37) part of four different devotional studies I'm taking part in. I apparently have lessons to learn from this story! 

I recently mentioned something I have heard before (unfortunately I don't remember where) about the way we tend to identify with the hero of the story. Whether it's a story from the Bible or a secular story, we want to be the hero.  David > Goliath, the son who humbly returned home > the proud brother, Job > his friends, and Joseph > his brothers. 

If we dig into Joseph's story from the beginning, we learn that his family life was definitely not perfect. In fact, they had a lot of issues. Jacob (his dad) has quite a story of his own! Scripture is full of stories about how God works in and through very dysfunctional families. Joseph's is no exception. 

A few things we're told about Joseph in the first 11 verses: 

1) He was Jacob's favorite, as evidenced by the gift Jacob gave him: his famous "coat of many colors." This was a bold statement that Joseph was to receive the birthright--he was the favored one, the one with clout. 

2) His brothers hated him and were mean to him. Joseph ran to tell Jacob when they mistreated him, which certainly would not have changed their minds! They hated him even more. Joseph's favor was a source of constant family conflict. 

3) God spoke to Joseph through dreams. 

Imagine, you already know you're the family favorite & that your brothers are bitter about it. Then you have a dream that will "rub it in" and you can't wait to share it with them. But wait!! You have another dream! As if telling the first one didn't cause enough termoil...you just have to tell them this one too; and this one not only rubs it in with your brothers-but your parents too. Your dad, who already shows favoritism toward you. 

4) To me, this indicates that perhaps Joseph was a little prideful and perhaps boastful about the favor Jacob showed him? 

I'm going to ponder, pray, and sleep on this section of the story...I can relate in some ways to each person in the story, and I am eager to learn the lessons He has for me. I'll be back! 

I am Weak, but I am Willing

 Weak and willing. 

"...clothe yourselves with humility toward one another, for God is opposed to the proud, but gives grace to the humble. 

Therefore, humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you at the proper time, casting all your anxiety on Him, because He cares for you.  Be of sober spirit, be on the alert. Your adversary, the devil, prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. But resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same experiences of suffering are being accomplished by your brethren who are in the world. After you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who called you to His eternal glory in Christ, will Himself perfect, confirm, strengthen, and establish you. To Him be dominion forever and ever. Amen." 1 Peter 5: 5b-11

Alongside my deep desire to help, uplift, and comfort those around me walks my ugly and constant companion, pride. It doesn't like to turn me loose. My pride says I can manage everything just fine with very little, if any, assistance. That I am perfectly logical and able to separate emotion from day to day decision making. Pride causes me to be confused by other people's emotional reactions; By their anxiety over seemingly "usual" things. It prevents me from being the compassionate, loving person I want to be. 

For years, I have prayed for greater understanding. 

It's well documented that living cross-culturally brings every emotion to the surface, making what would have previously cause mild/moderate distress, move to the moderate/major scale. I definitely noticed that when I moved overseas 15 months ago, but was prepared (as well as could be expected) for it and managed it fairly well.  

However, since mom died, my emotions are like an open wound just waiting for someone else to come along and drop a little salt in. Some days I am able to pull myself together and, perhaps, from the outside I appear to be doing just fine. However, on the inside, I have not been even near "just fine" for more than maybe 30 minutes or so at a time. I feel anxiety for seemingly no reason at all. Sometimes I can analyze long enough to determine what triggered it, but more often I just breath and pray and wait for it to pass. So far it has not been debilitating...but it is frequently very intense. Not quite, but almost to the point of a low-key panic. There is absolutely NO logic in this. None. 

While I still want to understand my anxious friends, I deeply want to STOP understanding to this level! 

I am praising God for answering my prayers. I don't have to enjoy the way He teaches me, to appreciate the lesson. I am weak, but I am willing. Still, I wait...not so patiently...for this season to pass. For the days to seem at least a little brighter. For the social anxiety to leave me. For the words others speak to me to be just that-words-rather than salt in my open wounds. Waiting for the day when I can function as my best, most healthy self, able to encourage, uplift, and help others. 

Waiting to open my eyes one morning and actually be glad that the Lord gave me another day. 

Isn't it Ironic

Oh the irony. 

The last time I posted, I shared a painting I did of my Nanna. A beautiful woman who was taken from us, yet she is still living. Today I return to this blog to browse and decide whether I want to pick up where I left off and continue writing here, or whether I want to just begin again. 

Why? 

My world has been rocked harder than I thought possible. I am struggling deeply. I am alone. I need an outlet and as strange as it feels, I am drawn to share it in a more public manner than just writing in my journals. Maybe it's a cry for help? Every single day I long to have meaningful conversation with people who.....who "get" me. Who understand what I am experiencing emotionally. Who I can be myself with. Who won't judge me. Who I can verbally process with. Who I can sit silently with. 

Who? Who are those people? Do they even exist? Who checks the boxes? Jesus. 

For now, I will ask Him if He would have me write here or begin a fresh, new blog to document the LONG journey ahead. Or should I even write at all? The fog is thick. Every decision I make is tainted by the deepest grief. 

For now, I'll do what I came here for today. To post my most recent painting. A portrait of a beautiful woman. The daughter of the woman in my previous post. A portrait of my sweet, sweet mother. My "go-to" person who checked all the boxes. Who I could talk to about anything, anytime. Who was the first person I wanted to share everything with. Who never judged me. Who never said things to try to hurt me. Who loved me no matter what. Who loved me the most. Jesus took her the day after my birthday. Oh how I miss her. 

My Beautiful Mom

February 13, 1950-August 7, 2023