Tag: relationships

A rebirth of sorts

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How do you keep the music playing in your life? The kind that gives meaning to the days, warmth to the nights, zest to ordinary moments, flow to the blood in your veins?

The answer will be as individual as us all. Your passions, my loves, their mission, his one thing, her “can’t live without” until life changes, that is. Then when we find something new or even reminiscent of what has gone before, we can get excited all over again. Life is just like that, eh?

I thought I knew what to do in relationships then realized that I have only known a part of what it was like. There’s always the other person’s perspective. Then there’s the erosion as memory fades or doubt enters in or something else altogether. Then one party moves away. It could be death. It could be a parting of ways. It could be the presence of someone new that pushes out the old or questions you, him, her. And if by chance the whole encounter or encounters or memory or memories become tainted by emotion then everything changes again. We may crumble into a pile of tears. We may strike up a rage within us, swearing to never live that way again. We may never want to love again for to do so would risk the pain of loss: too great a price to pay. Or so we say. Chances are good that we probably WILL love again. Or love something instead of a someone. To love is to be alive, really. And I submit to you that we must never ever give up.

I’m not sure why the relatively sudden passing of an Uncle is bringing up so many different thoughts and emotions. My Uncle Larry, my Mom’s brother in-law, was well loved by so many and is now gone. I was the first in my extended family of cousins to meet him as I was the oldest grandchild in both of my parent’s families. At age 5, I was the flower girl in the wedding of my Mom’s sister Shirley, to the man who would become my Uncle Larry. As the years went on I would have painful memories with him along with many good ones too. Swimming in his parent’s in-ground pool was simply the best. But most of the better memories have come in more recent years. I am older now. I can now say that I am glad I got to live all of these moments; I can see now that even the more painful ones were used by God to teach me things, toughen me, humble me, and bring me to the altar of forgiveness. Letting my Uncle Larry go means releasing everything from our relationship as family in addition to the varied emotions that pulled me around for too many years. The goodness in the mix is more important now and will be ones with which will go forward in my life. 

So I will focus on the goodness. I cannot say the same for my immediate family. My younger brother is now gone. My youngest and other brother is now gone. My Mother is now gone. My Father is now gone. Their stories with Larry are long gone with the passing of all of them. Although I have had many brushes with death myself, looks like I am living on to tell at least one of the stories here. And so I shall.

It was probably the mid 1970s. My Mom had picked up her pictures from the local drug store that developed them at a time when to do so would have been a great luxury for us. Polaroid photos along with the negatives came back in a divided envelope, printed with inserts naming all of the ways you could reprint your keepsakes for a fee. We never did. We just placed the 3″ x 5″ images in a shoe box for to put them in an album was too much work for a single Mom. Finding the old shoe boxes was like opening up a treasure chest in the bottom of our Mom’s closet, filled with memories of Christmas, birthdays, graduation parties, and more. The golden nugget for me was the collection from that Thanksgiving dinner at Grandpa and Grandma R’s house.

The house was so cloudy with cigarette smoke that family had to wash the walls once per year to remove the yellow streaks and stains that would build up on them. We never knew my Mom’s parents’ home any differently. My Mom smoked at home right at the kitchen table or when washing dishes at the sink. She placed an ashtray nearby with a third by the side of her bed. I don’t recall my Dad smoking but he would have been long gone somewhere else for decades after their divorce and before this: one of the last times we celebrated Thanksgiving at my Grandparents’ home. Glass or aluminum ashtrays graced my Grandparents’ black-and-white Formica table as well; a kind of family tradition of sorts. Sad, really. I retreated to the family room after all the dishes were done to get away from the fresh billows of smoke and noise. I don’t recall anyone else smoking, just my Grandparents and my Mom. With only so many places to go in that 3 bedroom ranch, there were still cousins and aunts and uncles everywhere. Eventually as our family grew, we would move our holiday dinners to My Uncle Larry and Aunt Shirley’s home for Thanksgiving; Christmas was always at our house.

My Uncle Larry must have either borrowed my Mom’s camera to take pictures or gave her that one photo of me some weeks later. I do recall him taking it. I didn’t want to look at him directly. Why would he be taking a picture just of me anyways with so many other kids around? I was wearing my brown corduroy blazer that I had made myself on my Mom’s Singer sewing machine. Sewing was the only way for me to get really nice clothing for special occasions. The rest usually came as hand-me-downs from Uncle Larry’s more affluent family. I guess they were just trying to help us out, my Mom being a divorced woman raising three kids on her own. No child support. At least from my Father, that is.

Friends had told me that I was pretty but I never had a boyfriend. Someone nominated me for homecoming queen and I declined to participate fully. My self-esteem had been destroyed by abusive events earlier in my childhood. Self-worth would come for me from what I could do, make, achieve, or accomplish so any recognition that I would accept would be the ones coming from those activities. This way of being actually became a type of addiction, becoming a “human doing” instead of a “human being” and yet it helped me survive the first three decades of my life. Then I found Jesus Christ and a measure of healing with a self worth that came from being a daughter of the King: my Heavenly Father and perfect source of love and acceptance, recognition and more. That is another story!

In the picture I had my hand over the right side of my face. Perhaps I was leaning on my cheek with my elbow on the arm of that recliner chair in which my Grandfather would take naps when we were little. The room was dimly lit as it was nighttime by the time we were done with dinner and dessert, dishes and too many bottles of Town Club pop. In that picture I saw for the first time in my life, a beautiful young woman. I had never seen her that way before. Evidently my Uncle Larry saw something too, worth capturing forever on film. I’m sure that I looked at the negative from which the photo was printed. Even from that strip of plastic, when held up to the light, I would be able to see myself for the first time from a perspective separate from my own inner struggles. Emotion had no say. There it was back-lit by the blue walls stained with time and their own stories. On Thanksgiving as a teenager, I was not lost but captured forever in a lovely pose amidst the mayhem of a simple family gathering. Gee, what if I had moved my hand, my Mother would ask. Knock it off Mom I would later reply silently. The composition was as it should be. And I was beautiful in it.

Thank you Uncle Larry for this memory that I will cherish forever. Almost 30 years later I found a love relationship that makes me feel like the day I saw the young woman in that photograph. You met my Steve a few times during fellowship with other family members and, I believe, have extended your approval of him, and of me both. You know that I have found my Intended Beloved at last. Steve is an engineer, a family man, car guy, and really smart, just like you were. Maybe you know that I have finally found a way to play the music intended for my life, with all of its passions that transcend the minutia of the days. He is the one, after my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, who makes my heart sing!

Gentle Reader, my prayer for you is that you may re-capture a memory today in a beautiful way. And then run with it to your heart’s content! JJ

The longing that does not end but changes

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Ecclesiastes 3:11 — The New International Version (NIV)

11 He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.

Such is the stuff of this life to have so many longings remain, even for those who have found rest in Jesus Christ. It must be a function of the human condition. We can’t fathom the mysteries of our God nor what it really means to live forever in His presence. Or find the answers to a thousand questions that begin with the word WHY? There are just too many unanswered questions that at times it makes me for one, ask how then am I to live?

Experiencing a great loss revs up this engine even more. One of the worst in life is that posed by divorce. You not only lose a spouse but many of the people, places, and things associated with him/her and the life you once lived. Life drastically changes. When the divorce comes as a consequence of infidelity followed by him or her leaving your life completely, well then you simply have no choice but to slog your way through the destruction, the grief, the changes in so many relationships, and a heart left bleeding for all to see. The tearing takes years for the woundedness to heal over. Does it ever really heal over? For some, perhaps. Or somewhat. Certainly many new people, places, and things fill some of the void: our Lord can become a Heavenly Husband to the woman who earnestly seeks Him. We learn a new way of living as unto the Lord.

Thankfully, I didn’t have children in the mix. This fact is bittersweet, however, as it became a desire of my heart to not become old and have missed the joy of having a family of my own. After years of pursuing a career, I did want a family after all. I was not given this opportunity. The Lord allowed circumstances that closed that door for me and it was painful. Then there were the changes in other meaningful relationships grown through 16 years of marriage. In due time, many of them would be ripped away from me as well. I kept in touch with some of my former spouse’s family as best I could over the phone lines and hundreds of miles between us. Eventually my former spouse’s Stepmother passed away and my Sister-in-law’s gate-keeping of my relationships to other family members led to a breakdown that I simply couldn’t overcome. She was the bridge to them and she severed the bridge. The heartache of their loss was palpable for many years. There simply was no place for my love for them, for my sorrow at their loss to go.

These feelings of loss were especially hard when Sharon’s youngest son died tragically. No one bothered to tell me. I found out about his death online from a third party. No one cared that I loved him too, that I needed a place to grieve, to share in the experience of losing a loved one. And tonight I found out that her and my brother-in-law’s remaining, oldest son died tragically last year. He was hit by a drunk driver and died as a consequence of his injuries. This is just so very awful. It hurts! It hurts in a place that I cannot even explain. Why does it hurt so much when I haven’t seen any of these people for nearly 20 years? I guess that when you choose to love someone and they die, it just hurts no matter how much time has passed. And it brings up any remaining fragments associated with the whole mess of divorce too. I don’t think these types of pain ever really go away completely. Sure, it’s less and much healing has taken place for me. The scars do remain though.

So to you Nathaniel and Jeremy, I extend my own tribute to each of you. Nate: you were such a tender-hearted kid that struggled to find your own identity under the shadow of your older brother. In time you discovered your artistic talents that far exceeded his, gifted by the Lord. I don’t quite understand your drug addiction but I do understand that it is really hard to live well with the pressures that life blasts at us. I am sad that your faith did not carry you through to victory over your struggles. I am glad that you have left a legacy of incredible art work that lives on, literally, in the tattooed images of your clients near and far. And your daughter Isabella is beautiful.

Jeremy: you were a young man with clear ideals about the world, a young wife and beautiful son so early in your adulthood. I don’t quite understand why it all didn’t work out for you, that you had to run off to the opposite coast to find a place in life to finally call home. I am glad that you found it with the fellowship of your brother Nate, that you both landed in the same area, the same industry that was meaningful to you. Thank you and your brother for showing an interest in my music when I played guitar during that one visit to your childhood home. Flash forward a couple of decades and your death is rather shocking to me. Both of you are now gone! How can this be? Did each of you know the Lord before you left your earthly home? Will I get to see you again in the heavenly realm where joy and the colors of the Master Artist paint eternity with with glorious goodness, music beyond compare?

Sharon and Max: thank you. You welcomed me into your family with friendship and fun every time Craig and I got to visit your home in the mountains of West Virginia. I learned so much from each of you simply by the way you lived and worked and lived out our shared faith in the Lord, Jesus Christ. I admired your creativity, ingenuity, industriousness, and positivity Sharon. I appreciated the technical help that you gave me with my speaking business long before we all had computer and internet skills: you were on top of it all! Your home was a bed and breakfast no less and when we visited we were treated to the best hospitality in the South! Thank you. At some level I do understand why you couldn’t talk freely with me when your brother/my ex-husband Craig had to leave my marriage. I just didn’t expect you to cut me off so suddenly too.

My ex-husband’s Dad, Ken, had already passed away from abdominal cancer before Craig’s affair and our divorce. His second wife, Eleanor, died after a bad fall in her beautiful home where she too had graciously hosted many of our visits to the Pittsburgh area over the years. You became a voice of reason in my life when I needed an older, wiser woman who had also been scorned as a relatively young wife herself. Thank you for listening to me, for trying to guide me through such a confusing time for all of us. I really loved your daughters, Cindy and Laura. You probably don’t know that I asked Craig for us to be considered as their caregivers in the event of your passing but he said no. Their developmental disabilities were a lot to handle for sure. I was trained in such things as an occupational therapist. They loved life: decorating for every single holiday, visiting with everyone, church on Sunday, and working at the sheltered worship with their friends. I never got to say goodbye to them. And now Cindy is gone as well. How is Laura doing? I often wonder. I may never know this side of heaven. Gratefully, I know I will see all of you again one fine day!

We long to see a loved one for that is how Christ’s love for us manifests in this life. We love others because He first loved us; we learn about love in this life as infants from our parents, our families. IN time we come to know that God is love itself, that He has set this beautiful gift into our heart, our mind, our very soul when He created us, when we came to be. Our longing for our lost loved ones is part of our longing for our Savior Who covers all. The only way that we can deeply connect with others in this most tenderest of ways is to come to know the love of Jesus Christ. Being together with other believers in Jesus Christ fulfills this longing; being in fellowship with the Lord through His Word and prayer fulfills this longing. We come to understand that the connection to our Lord is the most perfect relationship of them all: never failing, never ending, ever present, and perfectly above them all. We are always with Him, He is always with us such that we are never alone again when we call upon Jesus Christ as our Lord and Savior. Our longing thus transcends our earthly relationships in ways too wonderful to explain. We can come to trust that the Lord has taken care of these mysteries of life. We come to trust as in Ecclesiastes 3:11 that He has made all things beautiful in His time.

All things beautiful. These are people that I have had the privilege to know and love. My Lord will redeem them one day for my good, for His glory. He promises. O.k., I get it now. Thank you Lord. Thank you for Nathaniel, Jeremy, Max, Sharon, Ken, Eleanor, Cindy, Laura, their brother Michael, and yes even Craig. You gave me so much through them. I see how my longing is satisfied in You. I don’t understand it. I do believe it.

Gentle Reader: maybe you too?

JJ

Steve and Julie moving on at the Groovy Plants Ranch in 2019

The Young Lad Down the Street

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When I first met the 12 year old boy down the street, I found him to be quiet, pensive, and sweet. He was so tender towards his younger sister whom he often had the responsibility of supervising when both were hanging out in the cul-de-sac where Mr. Steve and I, Miss Julie, live. His 6 (now 7) year old sister was respectful of his authority. They got along quite well.

Then I saw another side to their relationship and perhaps his character. Nearly a year after that first meeting, my husband and I know more about each other’s families, living routines, schedules, activities, and personalities. We’ve had some fun activities together outside of the neighborhood as well as the opportunity to bless them with gifts, treats, etc. Kinda fun for us two older neighbors of grand parent age! (If our own grand kids only lived closer, eh? We rarely get to see them as they live several states away . . .)

One recent weekend afternoon, both H and E were staying on our side of town while visiting E’s Dad with their biological Mom. In other words, both boy H and girl E have the same Mom but two different Dads. H spent alternate weekends with his biological Father; E was virtually always down the street on Saturday and Sunday as her biological Mom and Dad often spent weekends together. So the two kids have the same Mom, 2 different Dads between them plus H has several half-brothers and sisters as well. The 2 kids seem to have adapted as well as can be expected with additional visits to some combination of biological grandparents sprinkled in over their weekends too. Somehow even with all of these adults in their lives, E then H came to develop a relationship with my husband, Mr. Steve. He taught H how to ride a big skateboard called a land paddle and raced E up and down the street on said land paddle as E provided the some pretty good competition on her pink 2-wheeler! “Want to race?” was all she said and off they went down the street and sidewalk, respectively.

Last weekend, the two children had spent the day with Mr. Steve in an EAA Young Eagles Introductory Flight experience while taking plane rides in a 4-seater Piper Archer. This was their second time riding in this airplane with Mr. Steve as the pilot. They each got to experience 3 flights on Saturday, a special lunch, and a mini ground school instruction. What a treat for each one of them! Well the extra banks and turns were a bit much for E’s tummy but overall they had a great time. I received them sitting on our patio at our home afterwards as they shared their stories of the day’s events. The kids had dozed off in the car on the 30-minute ride home from the airport; H was still tired and E was acting a bit “wired-tired.” But their “parents” weren’t home yet so hanging out with us would extend a little longer. That’s when I noticed some other dynamics of the relationship between this brother and sister that I had not seen before. Natural dynamics, of course. And yet perhaps a window into some of the stress they might feel when tired from more than this type of day’s events.

H was usually tender with his younger sister. This particular Saturday afternoon, H was relentless in his questioning of his younger sister on a trivial matter. I tried to change the subject and he returned to his chiding her shortly thereafter. Was there more to the stress of the moment than meets the eye? Surely he must get frustrated from time to time with the antics of a sister 5 years younger than him. I wondered, does he ever tire of his supervisory role and have enough time to just be a kid, be himself? Probably yes and possibly no. H is a very serious, thoughtful young lad who largely hides most emotions and speaks in somewhat measured speech at times. He is sure to correct himself to give the right response to a question. He’s the kind of kid a trusted adult male would do well to engage in playful wrestling or other physical stuff yet I get the idea it would be more horrifying than fun for him. Maybe he gets some of it with the land paddling with Mr. Steve? I hope so. I just wonder if there’s an outlet for what the heck he might be thinking or feeling inside. Does he feel loved? Does he have a place to let go or speak his mind freely like his little sister does (kind of all the time!)? He speaks of his babysitting responsibilities in the vernacular of that of a parent. It’s possible that the parental figures in his life expect this of him, to pseudo-parent her not just be a babysitter. That’s a lot of responsibility for a 12 year old boy from a broken home, at the beginning of so many other changes to come in his life as he matures into a teenager and young man. He takes this responsibility seriously. This particular day it was kinda wonky.

My Mom tried to put this type of responsibility on me for my 2 younger brothers but it didn’t work. They wouldn’t listen to me! They wouldn’t listen to our babysitters either when my Mom (a single parent of three children along with a serial dating and drinking problem) had to leave us alone to go to work or couldn’t find a babysitter. I do believe she did the best she could to manage our difficult situation with the tools and life skills she had. The when she left us alone, however, all hell broke loose at home. We were probably out of control. Such is the way children under stress behave when the consistent routines that they need erode, when there’s no one in which to confide, when there’s no outlet for the hurt burning inside a tender heart living inside a broken home. I wish I could have been more like how H is to his sister than I was to Mike and Rob. I yelled a lot. My Mom yelled a lot. There’s more. Surely us kids were struggling with the changes in our lives that were decided by the most-trusted adults in our lives: our parents. We hardly ever saw our Dad and then he moved out of state when we were teenagers; we never heard from him again for a couple of decades. Probably our best aspect of consistency/security was living in the same house all of those years. But inside those doors was a lot of hurt and anger that made it harder for me and my brothers to relate to one another as a family let alone find our way after entering adulthood. I wish I had known the love of my Heavenly Father back then. It would have made such a difference!

H occasionally talks about the Bible with Mr. Steve. I love that. My husband had the insight to give H a student Bible as part of his Christmas presents this past year; we gave E a children’s Bible too. Steve and I both try to weave spiritual topics into our conversations with H and E as we play in our yard, sip endless bottles of water, and chase our old pup Elle. But is it enough? Are we being intentional in our teaching as my beloved use to instruct young families at church to do with their children? All four of Steve’s adult children are walking with the Lord today. What an incredible testimony and tribute this is to the parenting, the love, the Biblical teaching, the mentoring that Steve and his ex-wife poured into their lives. All four are also successful in their respective occupations, one is married with two children of his own. As we get to know H and E, as they continue to come around and knock on our door on a Saturday afternoon, please join us in praying how to best love on them in a Christ-centered way. We desire to encourage and support their parents as well and be a special kind of older friend to all of them that the Lord has ordained for this season of their lives.

As I think about H in particular, some scripture references have come to mind that I hope I get to share with him sometime soon.

Colossians 3:21 (NIV)

Fathers, do not embitter your children, or they will become discouraged.

Ephesians 6:4 (NIV)

Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord.

If H is required to act as a pseudo parent/babysitter at times, these verses and passages speak to the authority and loving relationship of a Father to his children. They provide instruction which is tempered and guided in the manner described by the verses that surround each passage. (Hotlinks are provided to each chapter by clicking on the verse.) If unrealistic expectations have been placed on H to regularly care for his younger sibling then perhaps he still can learn to temper his tone with her as supernaturally guided by these verses and the Holy Spirit. Does H know Jesus as Lord and Savior, know the guidance that can come from the Holy Spirit? We are not sure. This is an area we need to explore further. With the possibility that the relationship of his Mom with E’s Dad is a tenuous one (as they have been apart for extended periods of time in the past), we cannot assume that we will always see H or E several times per month indefinitely. Each day is an opportunity to build our friendship with them and introduce them to Jesus Christ.

Romans 12:10 (ESV)

Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor.

This verse speaks to the relationship of brothers and sisters in Christ, our eternal family. I love the idea of showing honor, deference to the other party. The older brother, just like the child’s Father or Mr. Steve as an older male Father-figure, have an opportunity to help build the worth of a young girl as Christ sees her, as her husband one day will see her someday in marriage. An important part of her identity comes from interaction with the older males in her life. Her older brother’s joking, teasing, and correcting behavior all have their place in good fun along with complimenting, encouraging, and supporting the younger, female as she grows up. We know from God’s design for the roles of men and women in marriage that the woman is to respect her husband; the woman must also receive respect in addition to being loved and cherished. To show honor is to show love.

Matthew 6:33 (Amplified)

But first and most importantly seek (aim at, strive after) His kingdom and His righteousness [His way of doing and being right—the attitude and character of God], and all these things will be given to you also.

Our Heavenly Father knows what we need even before we ask anything of Him. He is ready, willing, and able to give us the best help possible! This is important to keep in mind when we are trying to figure out what to do, what to say, what decisions to make, how to think, which way to go. Then what about an unruly little sister or brother? Oh vey! I offer this verse as a reminder to pray, to seek the Lord for His wisdom as we interact with all of the other people in our lives. (How I wish I knew this and could take back all of those mean words I screeched at my brothers so many years ago!) Figuring out relationships is soooooo hard on our own sometimes! Our Lord will comfort our angst, guide us, and bring forth the best outcome for both how we want to come across and how we hope our brother, our sister in Christ will respond. We must stop ourselves, pause or take a deep breath for a moment, and ask for our Lord’s help. He will do so. This type of prayer also honors the Lord as well!

Hebrews 10:24 (NLT)

Let us think of ways to motivate one another to acts of love and good works.

The Lord is faithful to see us through everything including the ups and downs of our relationships with others. He cares deeply about our relationships with the members of our immediate family (as well as the body of Christ). What a privilege it is to be in a position to mentor a loved one who seeks and respects our authority or influence in his or her life. H has managed this big responsibly well despite the challenges of his own young life. This process of mentoring happens naturally with younger siblings who look up to their oldest sibling, to older cousins with younger cousins and so on, when handled well. The love between brother and sister in particular is a special kind of fellowship unmatched by any other in our lives. Our brothers and sisters are the first friends we make in life, the longest friendships we may ever have in our lives. We can find mutual hobbies, games, sports, ministries, and other activities to share together despite differences in age. We can encourage our siblings in following their dreams, the unique ways that the Lord has crafted their giftedness, and even in his or her silliness if younger than we are! When it is safe to do so, let them be! We want the happiest, most fulfilling life for our friends, right? Such is the desire of our Heavenly Father for each of us on each day and each hour we shall live, until the day comes when He will return in the ultimate fellowship with all of us.

After all Jesus was once a brother too you know . . .

Stock Photo by Janko Ferlic on Pexels.com

Will you still love me tomorrow?

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The question we simply don’t need to ask.

The question that I simply don’t need to ask again, yet have wasted too many moments wondering, is the one posed in this song by the Shirelles.  Oh and Dionne Warwick.  And maybe Amy Winehouse too.  Such a classic song!

Each time I wind up in the Emergency Room, I wonder if my beloved will still love me the next day.  This morning he referred to yesterday evening as “another date night!”  Unbelievable.  All this love continues after about 16 trips to the ER in the past 7 years.  I am humbled and blessed beyond measure.

This blessing is hard to see sometimes when my body is breaking down in a new way once again.  Looks like an ulcer in the lower part of my stomach is the reason for a month of abdominal pain.  Over-the-counter and walk-in clinic medications did not solve the problem.  So after a CT scan under the influence of anti-allergy drugs and some more potent medication, I am in less pain . . . but oh so worn out.  I’ll see a gastroenterologist this coming week with an endoscopy likely to follow.  Going to try to keep my stress level low in the meantime.  I mean I don’t have any other of the risk factors that contribute to an ulcer (e.g. spicy foods, caffeine, alcohol) unless of course there’s a hidden H. pylori infection.  So more testing is needed to figure this one out.

The other “love” that could be easy to question is that of my Heavenly Father.  But I don’t.  I look around and see tremendous blessings in my life in that I have a warm home in which to convalesce, enough food and clothing, and finances for the important stuff.  My beloved is faithful and loving like “Jesus with skin on.”  What I don’t understand is how these illnesses isolate me from friends and family outside of our home and most notably, my husband’s adult children. 

My extreme sensitivities continue and are triggered by the fragrant products they (and many folks) tend to use.  We are just not sure how to manage this reactivity with our Christmas gatherings rapidly approaching.  We already had to decline having both daughters stay with us (which was a delight to host them in years gone by).  A trial of having his oldest stay with us for about a week 2 months ago, despite extreme precautions, triggered a violent relapse in the convulsive episodes.  I am now sensitized to even trace amounts of fragrance on her coat that was kept in a suitcase in our garage in between scheduled visits.  Then I had a seizure spike 2 days ago when she returned from some travels to pick up her suitcase . . .

My heart is breaking from more than the loss of acquaintances and friendships:  my relationships with my husband’s children never really got going.  Steve and I have been married for 11 years and I got sick just 4 years into our marriage.  I have been battling a serious illness for most of our marriage!  You could say that my limited visits with his adult children gave them more time to adjust to the fact that their father is remarried.  Well, o.k. maybe that’s it.  I already sensed that I needed to lie low during their visits in the beginning anyways, focusing on serving them good food and comforts and not speaking up too much nor complaining when their Dad jumped to see them, rescue them when the trials of young adulthood came along.  No problem.  Fix the car?  Pick them up at the bus stop?  Join them at church?  I just had to stay home due to illness factors and couldn’t go with their Dad to help them, that’s all.

They don’t really know me either though.  We profess the courteous “love” greetings yet would I ever really see them again if something happened to their Dad?  Oh dear, I should not even go there.  I now realize that this barrier between us is completely out of my hands.  Remember when I sent along baked goods with Steve for when he visited his family in Arkansas without me 2 weeks ago?  Yes, I need to rest in the hope that what I could do has been done as unto the Lord.   My Jesus and my beloved know my heart.  They hold together the parts in me that are breaking and the inner tears.  And the Lord also holds me in tender moments like these right now.

I need to know that your love.  Is a love I can be sure of.  So tell me know so I won’t ask again.  Will you still love me tomorrow?

Yes, for sure.  JJ

Jeremiah, 31:3, everlasting, love, doubting, Christ's, Lord's, faithfulness,what He thinks of me, endurance, love through the trials

In a far-off land the LORD will manifest himself to them. He will say to them, ‘I have loved you with an everlasting love. That is why I have continued to be faithful to you.’

The Geographical Cure Uncovered

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In a way you could say that the promise of “starting over” has helped me move from:

  • junior high school student to community leader
  • my childhood home to college,
  • Detroit to Chicagoland,
  • employee to team leader,
  • health care professional to graduate student,
  • ACOA and religion to a personal relationship with Jesus Christ
  • a single life to marriage twice,
  • Chicagoland to Fort Wayne, and
  • private journaling to online blogging!

Just wondering:  how many of you, my gentle readers, have experienced this too?  How many of us have initially and privately hoped that the simple move from one lifestyle to another, one geographical location to another, one relationship to another, one worker role to a promotion, or more would somehow be all we needed to change what is wrong or uncomfortable in our lives?  The excitement, the risk to the unknown, the new adventure surely would change everything and bring true happiness!  The lure, the answer to prayer, the next pursuit will be “it.”  After all, once we have moved on, that person who bugs us, the issue we don’t want to face, the pain that we simply can no longer bear, the emptiness in our hearts will go also away, right?  In our minds we might figure that won’t have to deal with him or her, with it anymore.

Not!  The only problem with this mentality I have found, is that I take myself with me to the new destination!  What I mean is that if I have not prepared my heart to let go of the past, deal with the past, and found new ways of coping with the past, I will somehow recreate the problem in the new location.  Not true, you say?  You are different?  Are you sure?

May I share my most graphic example?  I grew up in a modest blue collar home tainted by alcoholism, financial strife, divorce, abuse, and my maladaptive coping style of workaholism.  Sure I had lots of friends, school and community service activities, and spending money from working but my inner life was chaotic even sad.  If anyone could read my thoughts at that time I would surely be in trouble with someone, somewhere!  Out of sheer determination to improve my life as a young adult and get away from my domineering mother, I set my sights on college.  Within 3 months after graduation, I moved out-of-State alone to the Chicago area for my first job when I could not find one locally.  I had to get away anyways.  Finally I would be free from my past and able to live my life as I wanted.

It took about a year for me to realize that my problems had moved with me!  My “stinking thinking,” the unhealthy people with whom I ended up associating, the social habits I once despised, and the compulsive work ethic to succeed at all costs mimicked the dysfunction of my childhood home.  I walked further and further from my Catholic upbringing.  I set my sights on more career achievements and prepared to enter graduate school.  When my double-life and underlying feelings couldn’t catch up with my ambitions, I sought counseling to fix it.  Turns out it would take a long time, a lot of money, many different avenues of recovery leading to a personal relationship with Jesus Christ to find freedom.  The geographical move away from “home” did not do anything to fix anything!

There’s a simple phrase I’ve come across over the years that goes, “wherever you go, there you are.”  It’s so silly yet it’s very profound.  We take ourselves with us just as we are wherever we go.  If we don’t change, the change in circumstances won’t change much of anything either.

Flash forward 25 years and I hope that you will find that my life today is very different then back then.  The trials and tragedies during the interim years have been almost unbelievable at times.   During 2003 to 2005 I was forced to start over as a single woman and completely move five times.  This year I’d say that was a warm up act for the fourteen changes in sleeping locations over seventy-six days during the process of mold remediation at home!  The difference between then and now, between the Detroit to Chicagoland move in 1983, was how the Lord allowed me to handle it.  Only by the grace of God have I ever truly moved forward.  With my life surrendered to Him and with the spiritual leadership of the Holy Spirit and my husband, there was no trauma in relocating this time; the stress was normal.  There was no magical thinking; I didn’t need to win the lottery to be at peace.  If the change turned out well or not, I would be o.k. and the Lord would and has provided for my needs.  The Lord used each move this time to show me His love and plan for my life and the people that came along were His chosen instruments:  pretty cool folks.

I have given pretty graphic examples here in uncovering the illusion of a “geographical cure.”  Some of you will be able to relate to my situation and some will not.  Please get the take home message written best by the God of the Bible:

Romans 8:28

28 And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.  (NIV)

Each step of the way can be useful, never wasted if we but seek first His face, His kingdom, and

Romans 12:2

2 Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will. (NIV)

The first step is to look to the real cure for all that ails us, the One who created us.

Matthew 6:33

33 But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.  (NIV)

For those that call Him Lord, He will give us no more that we can handle, the desires of our hearts, a way out when needed, and much goodness; our thoughts and desires both conform and grow in our walk with Him.  The pain, the fear, the adventure of letting go will be worth the journey if we but commit ourselves to Him.  The move to follow Him will bring a spiritual cure of sorts that will exceed any that we might create or imagine on our own in this life and the next!  The cure, the answer to our prayers, may also relate less to our jobs, our families and friends, our places of residence, our ministries, than the condition of our hearts.  Our minds become sanctified; our hearts become free.

A fun outcome for me with the move to Fort Wayne to marry Steve was learning to kayak at age 47.  This would have been emotionally painful if not terrifying just a few years earlier!  And yet few years after relocating and opening my heart to this new love, I became physically stronger than I’d ever been and progressed from a tandem plastic, pedal-driven Hobie Oasis to a solo introductory racing Stellar SR surf ski!  Wow Jesus.  Talk about restoring the years the locusts have eaten!  (Joel 2:25)

Yeah, kayaking in my own vessel may be on hold for awhile while I am recovering from Lyme Disease, but so what.  It will be waiting for me, Lord willing, when the time is right on the most perfect of sunny days.  In the meantime, I’ll paddle just along leisurely in the back of our ocean-style, tandem 24 foot outrigger canoe with a hot kayak racer/husband forging the rough waters in the front!  Woweeee indeed!

So if you’re “starting over,” moving on, beginning a new chapter in your life, I encourage you to double check to see if there is any relational editing or heart check needed in the chapter, in the place that you are in right now.  I gotta tell ya that if you don’t, the past could come back to bite you in the shorts when you least expect it.  I don’t want that for you or for me.  Take a spiritual inventory.  Come to Christ and ask Him to search your heart and lead you into all righteousness, cleansed and free.  (Psalm 139:23-24)  If you do, true joy awaits you.  I’m sure of this.