The Longest Goodbye

This is what I said it felt like when describing what we have gone through with my grandmother. For four years, we've watched her slip away. First, it was crippling anxiety and panic attacks. Second, it was her losing the ability to drive. Third was bedsores that became open wounds. Next, it was her getting up out of bed and falling and breaking a few vertebrae in her back. After that, it was her becoming bedridden. Now, it's hard for her to communicate clearly. She also has some trouble swallowing.

We've felt all of the emotions of grief. When my Papa finally decided to let Hospice come in and help, the nurses thought several times she was going to pass away in a matter of days. All of the family came in to say goodbye.

She didn't pass away like they thought she would. She's been on Hospice for almost nine months. I miss my Granny coming to visit me. Even though we live within walking distance, I still miss her coming to check on me. Now, the tables have turned and I get on my electric scooter to go check on her and my Papa.

I miss her smile. This sickness has taken away her ability to smile. I miss her being healthy. She always said she wanted to lose some weight, but she never wanted it to go like this.

I miss her funny jokes. One time she wore some black glasses with a big fake nose. I kept them because they remind me of her.

I miss seeing her work in the garden. Every year, my Papa plants tomatoes, sweet potatoes, okra green beans, and corn. Granny would always help him pick the food and then spend all day in the kitchen canning it so they could have fresh vegetables for winter. She made the BEST green beans and corn! Now, my Papa still does a garden, it's just smaller.

When my Memaw died, it was a shock. I felt like I didn't get to say all the things I wanted to. She was ripped from our lives due to COVID. No one was prepared for her death because she was healthy. It was a short goodbye, and I am still grieving her loss.

With my Granny, I've gotten more time. I said when she got sick, "I wish I had come down here more when the kids were little and she cooked all kinds of surprises for them." So, since I have the gift of time, I make time to go down there once every few weeks, even when I am in excruciating back pain because I don't want to have any regrets. I don't remember if I told my Memaw I loved her before she passed, so I made sure to tell my Granny.

I wish I could hug her, but clasping her hands will have to do because I can't reach over the bed while I'm in my scooter without falling over. The main concern I have is not hurting my Granny. She's so fragile now. 

This morning, my Granny met Jesus. I will love her forever.

Love People Anyway

Image by StockSnap from Pixabay

If the last few months have taught me anything, it's love people anyway. Go out of your way to make people feel loved and appreciated. Listen to their silly stories. Be inconvenienced. Take the trip. Make memories because you really don't know when it will be your last opportunity.

Life can change in an instant. And you may have done nothing to deserve the hand that you were dealt, but remember, the people around you didn't deserve it either. They were merely caught in the crossfire of someone else's pain.

I finally realize the depth of what Martina McBride sang in her song when she said, 

"You can spend your whole life building
Something from nothin'
One storm can come and blow it all away
Build it anyway

You can love someone with all your heart
For all the right reasons
In a moment they can choose to walk away
Love 'em anyway."

I heard that from a place deep inside of me the other week when I was confronted with unimaginable pain. I even asked someone, "How did we get here?"

I know through it all, I will NEVER regret choosing to love. I will never regret being a safe place for others. I will never regret choosing the right way over the easy way.

An Empty Celebration

Today is my niece's 7th birthday, and we didn't get to celebrate with her today. My mom made a cake just in case she came.

From the time I woke up, I was confronted with the reality that she wasn't there. The empty house that was so still the silence was deafening.

When we finally did decide to get out of the house, there was a little girl at the restaurant with us who was celebrating her birthday. She had a cute little pink headband that proudly showed everyone she was the birthday girl.

I had to choke back tears at the table as I remembered we SHOULD have been celebrating my niece. As the little girls laughed and smiled, I couldn't help but see my precious niece's face. I hurt in a way I didn't think I could today.

Then something else happened that was another slap in the face. I said, "God, you see this! I know you say forgive seventy times seven, but I don't know how much more I can take."

Forever Forward

FOREVER FORWARD

I heard this phrase in a song last week, and it stuck with me. It's easy to choose to go forward for a day, a week, a month, maybe even a year.

But choosing to forever go forward takes a deep level of commitment. Forever forward means looking adversity in the eye and saying, "You will not win." Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. Because people who choose forever forward are not bound by circumstances, attitudes, or people.

They choose to continually go forward because to stop means you die. To quit growing means you are stagnant, stuck in one place. Like a female veteran friend of mine recently said, "Stagnant waters don't heal or nourish."

Get up out of the pain of yesterday and go forward! Whatever that may look like for you. Make better decisions. I can't guarantee hardship won't be there when you wake up, but choosing forever forward means awakening the lion within you. And staying committed to doing that as long as it takes.

Forever forward means looking at pain and saying, "You may have held me down for a season, but I will summon the strength and grace needed to press past this. Soon, that obstacle that once seemed insurmountable will now be a stepping stone to help others.

Swimming in Emotions

Joining the weekly prompt over at Mama Kat's Writing Workshop.

Swimming against the current. Utterly exhausted from trying to keep myself afloat. Grief and chaos are all around. When will peace break through these waters? How do I keep going? Putting one arm in front of the other, I feel the water. Something so fluid and free, but my mind is heavy, like an anchor trying to pull me down. Willing me to stay rooted in the pain of yesterday and all the days before. 

I can't give in. I won't give in. The minute I stop trying is the minute I am consumed. This is not how the story ends.  It's just a chapter. Like Dory in the movie "Nemo," I'll just keep swimming. I plunge myself into living. Feeling. Breathing. Moving. 

I will reach the other side of the bank by turning my pain into purpose. 

An Empty Seat at the Table

Sorry I haven't written much. Life has been crazy. My grandmother passed away from covid pneumonia on September 9, 2021.

Today I feel like I can finally write something that has been on my heart since that week.

An empty seat at the table

I look around and you're not there

Bustling about making sure everyone is taken care of

We are all gathered around the table that we've shared so many meals at, so many laughs

But there's an empty seat at the table

It's the seat you should be in

You should be here

But you're not and it's not fair

My heart aches at the thought of all the things you'll miss

The emptiness I feel is too big for words

Sometimes all I have are tears

But tears won't fill that empty chair

Tears won't bring you back

I just pray that every day we have left we continue to make you proud

By loving a little deeper

And speaking a little sweeter to those around us

Like the preacher so beautifully said at your funeral, you embodied Galatians 5:22...the fruits of the Spirit

You gave until you couldn't give anymore

All to see smiles on our faces

So the torch has been passed to us

Now we have to do the same and more

To leave this world and the people in it and little better than we found it

I love you beyond words, Memaw!

I Will Not Be Moved

I'm tired. Tired of the struggle day after day. I feel like I'm in the in between space of growth and everything that led me to this point.

I wish I was never in the wheelchair. Getting out of it for good is one of the hardest things I've ever done, but I am determined to do it. Even if that means crying while doing my exercises. 
I haven't given up, but I am tired. I need God's breath to breathe on me again. 

This isn't meant to be a depressing post, but just an honest account of where I'm at.
To win the mental battle, I have to constantly celebrate the small victories. Just the other day, I walked 7 times instead of 6 in my hallway at home.

I'm challenging myself to do more and go further. I told my mom, "It seems like I have such a long way to go to get to where I want to be." She always reminds me, "Look at how long you were down for." I was bedridden 2-3 years, but I've been in the wheelchair for almost 14 years.

I just have to steel my shoulders and plant my feet firmly on the ground. I refuse to be moved by how I feel. I refuse to be moved by what I see. 

A Consuming Prayer

This is what I prayed to God while worshipping by myself tonight. What do your prayers to God look like?

Consume my anger

Consume my frustration

Consume my guilt

Consume my pain

Consume my brokenness

Consume my depravity

Consume my emptiness

 Consume me, God

I need you more than I need to be right

I need you so I can be a light

Let your Word guide me

Away from myself

And my inhibitions

Consume me, God

Because it’s in You that I find me

Apart from you, I’m nothing

Separation

My body was there, but I retreated to a place of silence
Trying to make myself invisible
Trying to drown out the noise

There it was
A separation
A chasm
Close in body, but moving further and further away

Spiritually, mentally

Disconnected, wholly separate

An unwelcome visitor wedged its way in
Past the familiarities
Forget the pleasantries

It sit down heavily
Like a boulder teetering on the edge of a mountain
A mountain of pain
Simmering just below the surface
That superficial veneer threatened to crack with every breath

Things weren't different
They were just as messy as they have always been
That's when I was thankful I was different than them

God, Help Me

God, help me
I feel so disconnected
We may be back together and near other people, but I feel miles apart

It's like starting over
It is starting over

Where do I fit?
Does anyone want what I have to give?

Does anyone see me?
I feel like a blip on the water that is only there for a few seconds
In and out
Up and down

Nothing changes
People are callous and cold

Only doing surface level chit chat
I can't stand that

I can't stand feeling like this is just another day
Smiling but never really connecting
Hugging but never breaking barriers

I'm tired of those who are okay with status quo
Go with the flow
Don't disrupt how we do things

God, help me to feel again
Help me to see clearly
Not with a haziness
A cloud hanging over everything

Every word
Every action
Even interactions

Let me be a bridge
Let me be a light
Pointing the way for others
Even if no one else cares

Even if they don't care enough to do anything
Even if they don't care enough to say anything
Help me to not shrink back
And curl into myself

Going back into my shell
Help me not lose myself

Mama Kat's Writing Workshop Week 2

I'm joining in Mama Kat's writing workshop again this week.  

I chose the prompt that says write a blog post inspired by the word: Fresh


Fresh flowers are sitting in a vase
Buds and blossoms hang delicately 
Plucked from the ground
Now we gaze at their beauty

Orange, reds and yellows swirl together in a perfect symphony
Creating a blend of striking patterns

And the smell
Like dewdrops after the rain
A mixture of sweetness
Like a honeysuckle vine

Fresh flowers have an aroma like nothing else
Bringing cheeriness to every room

Mama Kat's Writing Workshop

I've been wanting to do Mama Kat's Writing Workshop weekly prompts for a while. While in quarantine, I figure there's no better time.

 If you could go back in time and relive one year of your life, what year would you choose and why?

Without question, I would relive the year my oldest nephew was born. I often think back to that time because it was one of the happiest times of my life. My nephew brought (and continues to bring) endless amounts of joy into my life.

That year was filled with so much laughter and joy in the simple things. I looked at things in wide-eyed wonder as I watched my nephew crawled for the first time, said his first word, and smiled.

We went on so many adventures and made up silly songs! I couldn't wait to see him and play with him.

Don't Look Down!

For about a year and a half, God has been saying to me, “Don’t look down!” I haven’t always been in a wheelchair. When I was a child and a teenager, I walked. Ever since I’ve had to use a walker, I’ve had a habit of looking down when doing various tasks.

Twice this week, God has told me to not look down. Once through Pastor Jason’s sermon and again through a devotional I’m reading.

My devotional said, “When you’re looking down, all you can see is what’s down. It limits your perspective and lowers your expectations.”

I choose to look up! Kenneth Hagin has a message on persistent faith and he says, “See yourself doing what you can’t do.”

I see myself walking
I see myself running
I see myself jumping
I see myself driving

I see my left knee straight and not turned in
I see my left leg the same length as my right

This is what it looks like to walk by faith. You have to see it in the spirit realm before it will ever manifest in the natural.

I am making a conscious effort to hold my head up. All things are possible to those who believe!

I am Undone

I am undone in Your presence
Baring my soul and my scars
You knew me from the start

I am undone in the deepest waters
They swell and crash with a thundering roar
I am surviving and growing stronger

I am undone
No more pretending or trying to wrap up my image with a pretty bow
I am broken, make me whole

Untangle my frustration
Uncover my face
Leave no stone unturned in the light

Let the light of truth wash over me
Deposit a fresh resolve to try again

Take all my fragments, every jagged edge
Every hard-won truth and weave it into the fabric of my being

Beauty for Ashes

Isaiah 61:3 says, "God gives beauty for ashes." What does that really look like? I've experienced beauty for ashes when it comes to physical pain, but what does it look like for emotional pain?

I'm in the middle of emotional pain. A part of me has died. I keep saying to myself, "It doesn't feel like Thanksgiving. It doesn't feel like Christmas. It doesn't feel like it's almost my birthday."

Everything is a reminder that nothing is the same. Every part of my life has been touched. I know I'm still grieving, but how long will it last?

I can't answer that. I am holding to the truth that God is working even when I can't see Him. He's working even when I can't feel Him.

The Bible says in Isaiah 53:3, "He was despised and rejected by mankind, a man of suffering, and familiar with pain." 

I take comfort in the fact that God knows and He hurts when I hurt. I don't know how long I'll hurt, but I trust that He's making something beautiful out of my brokenness. Even when circumstances aren't good, He is good.

I've often heard it said, "When you can't stand, God carries you." I am confident He is carrying me through this season. I am determined to become a better version of myself through this.

In Between

Photo by JHorna Smidt from FreeImages

I gazed at the beautiful photograph as summer-time childhood memories danced in my head. The hydrangeas contrasted beautifully with the rustic fence. The blooms were bright and full, so inviting I could almost smell them.

“This bush finally had blooms about 5 years after I planted it,” my friend said. “I don’t know whether to say I was patient on waiting for it to bloom or stubborn because I wanted to leave it planted there. Turned out nice, though.”

I wondered how many of us would have left the bush there for that long, when it seemed like it wasn’t producing. Still, she left it there because she loved the plant. Five long years had passed with no blooms, but now the plant is flourishing. The photo was beautiful, but no one saw the waiting period. That plant was getting ready to blossom in the midst of the dry spell. Anyone can marvel at the bush’s beauty now; only a gardener could appreciate the process.

You may be like that hydrangea, feeling dry and lifeless with no blooms to show that you are growing. Don’t pull up your roots just yet! You could be on the verge of something great and miss out because your life doesn’t match the picture you had in your head. Just because you’re in a seemingly lifeless spot where time ticks by slowly, doesn’t mean what God told you in the previous seasons has changed. His Word is still the same!

How many times have we wanted to move from where we’re planted? If we do, we will miss our opportunity to bloom.

Disrupt the Environment

Last year, my little two year old niece pulled an indoor orange tree up by the roots. My mom was devastated as she had worked for two years to get it to grow.  She thought surely the tree was dead.

Amazingly, the tree did not die. It THRIVED, growing by leaps and bounds.

As I was talking to my mom this week, I said, "MaKensie disrupted the tree's environment. Maybe I need to disrupt mine. It's so easy for us to get comfortable doing routines. I know I have done that with my exercises. In order to grow, you have to do something different. You have to be willing to throw caution to the wind and say, "Let's try this and see what happens!"

That is exactly what I did when I walked with my walker a few days ago. Instead of walking the hallway at home, I told my mom I wanted to start at the front door, hoping I could make it to the end of the hall.

Guess what? I did make it! It has been years since I've been able to do that and I am so thankful.

A Surrendered Life

What does a surrendered life look like? I'm doing an online bible study with Laura Story called "I Give Up." She said,  "Surrender isn’t a free fall, it’s more like descending into more capable hands."

We often think of surrender as a bad thing. Words like defeat and giving up come to mind, but when we choose to look at what surrender means from God's perspective, it's not only good but a necessary part of growth.

As I've been doing the study, a footnote for Psalm 23 from the Passion Translation stood out to me. Instead of just talking about paths of righteousness, it elaborates, saying,

"Or “circular paths of righteousness.” It is a common trait for sheep on the hillsides of Israel to circle their way up higher. They eventually form a path that keeps leading them higher. This is what David is referring to here. Each step we take following our Shepherd will lead us higher, even though it may seem we are going in circles."

Surrender means trusting fully in God. It's saying, "God, this is bigger than me. I can't do this without you. I surrender my thoughts and attitudes to you. Let me decrease and make more space for you in my life."

Letting Go

The pain cuts so deep
When you inhale you can't take a full breath
It's all so heavy

It seems inescapable
Every word, every sound
Takes you back

It seems as if you will drown in your own sorrow
Sorrow for what was
Sorrow for what it is
Sorrow for what it should have been

Tears pour out from the depths of your being
Will this pain ever end?
Will things ever be normal?

How long must I stay in this wasteland?

It is such a dry and lonely place
Thoughts don't even seem to linger here

You search for a lifeline for yourself
The only problem is they never tell you what to do when you are the lifeline for others

Moment by moment is how you are functioning
Emotions hit you in waves
Knocking you to your knees

After awhile you realize your only hope is found in letting go

Letting go of the pain
Letting go of the past...even the present and future

The Illusion of Control

Control. It's something that keeps pulling us in a different direction.

I struggle with letting go. I try to control people and situations, but it ALWAYS ends in bitter frustration.

Do you want to know why? Because I can't control another person. I can't control circumstances, no matter how hard I try. I could say all the right things and do something with a pure motive and things still end in disaster.

Some days I am fine letting go. My head doesn't spin. My heart doesn't race. I am just content to let things be. Content to not mess with the messiness of life.

Other times I feel like I have my hand firmly on the reigns, only to realize I was grasping at air. It was all an illusion.

Recently, I finished a book by Rebekkah Lyons called Freefall to Fly. I think that's why I try to control things. I am afraid of the freefall that will inevitably happen if I just let go.

I am afraid to let the chips fall where they may. But, tonight, I've realized on a deeper level that growth never happens standing still. It happens in the tulmultous swinging of chaos. It happens deep beneath the surface where nothing can hinder the process. A seed's growth happens underground. You only know something has happened when stalks and leaves and buds appear.

Growth happens in uncharted waters. It happens when all plans are thrown out the window.

When I had multiple surgeries and years of prolonged sickness, I could not control what was happening to me. I shifted my focus to controling my enviroment. Picking the paint colors for my walls. Little things, but they meant so much to me.

Tonight, I am focusing on letting go. I have realized it's not a decision I have to make once a week. I have to make the choice to let go every day. When I feel myself getting anxious, it's more than likely because I'm trying to control something. I am now going to take a deep breath and remind myself to let go. I was not created to carry burdens. I am supposed to release them. Then and only then, can I be a better daughter, sister, aunt, and friend.

Do you have some things you need to let go of?