Keeping it real...

This post has been sitting as a draft in my blog account since October of 2014.  There have been many times that I have stared at this blank white screen trying to finish it, but the words would just not come out.  Today I finally am able to finish putting to words what has been a continual struggle for me regarding anger.  Not a happy-all-tied-up-in-a-pretty-ribbon ending... but a here it is- the-down-and-dirty-real-deal-truth-about-my-continual-struggle.

Stormy seas of circumstances and emotions had carried me to a new place in my grief journey. At the end of a very long and emotional season, I found myself suddenly rooted, totally stuck actually, smack dab in the dark land of a place called Anger.  Anger is a place I had not been before for any length of time.  It is well known that Anger is a very common phase of grief but until the past few months, I didn't feel it…I just couldn't. I thought it was something I would just skip over. Not because I wanted to, or I tried. It was just something that seemed to be locked up inside of me that I couldn't access even if I wanted to.  I had stumbled into it on a few occasions and remained there very temporarily because of circumstances or a flash of emotion but it was never a permanent place for me. Mostly these flashes came when I saw my children suffering. The anger would rise up as I watched them literally writhing in pain in their grief. During their toughest moments, their pain would cause anger to bubble to the surface as I questioned how their God could allow this agony into their life. How it could be good for them to hurt like this?  But as quickly as it rose it up, it would subside and settle back down somewhere hidden again.  The anger was never for myself or my loss. God had been too good. His blessings too rich for me to question or to even feel like I had a right to be angry at myself. It seemed so disrespectful, so unthinkable to be angry with the God who had done so much for me.  

In the early days after Dave's death, our pastor asked me one day if I had gotten angry yet.. with God... I was totally defensive and appalled at the suggestion. I told him " I am not angry! God's word says "'All of our days were written in the book of life before one came to pass'. Dave's days were written in a way that he had 39 years here on earth. To be angry about that would be to question God's ways and I am not doing that".  Our very wise and loving pastor just smiled and said: "Yeah- you're still going to get angry and it is better to face it and be honest with God because He already knows how you feel about it".  I thought smugly to myself "What do you know? Your husband did not just die".  (Incidentally, I feel so terrible about this now and if you are ever reading this Glenn- you are amazing and we would never have gotten through those days without you). I claim the full on the craziness of grief for my attitude back then. A few days later- on a particularly rough day- when both my kids were out of their minds with grief, sobbing in their pain- I found myself outside in our backyard and streams of anger and frustration gushed out of me. I raged and screamed out loud at the sky for an hour like a crazy person asking God "Where are you? Why did you do this? What were you thinking?"  In the end, I crumpled to the grass and sobbed until I was so exhausted that I could barely get back into the house.  I remember thinking "Okay- that was good- I got mad and now I am done". Little did I know there are many layers of anger. And it can creep back in silently over time and settle deep into your life and your soul.  

Anger has recently re-manifested itself in my life like a slow steady boil of a pot of water on the stove. Tiny ripples at first, bits of resentment and jealousy that slowly begin to bubble and spread until it is a full rolling boil of fury and pain.  The more I fought it the worse it became.  Until one day I realized how unbelievably angry I had become at everyone and everything in my life. I see now the root of my anger was held by deep-seated resentment that my life is just not what I always thought it would be. I was angry at my friends who had husbands to do things with on the weekends, families around their dinner tables, laughter that rang out in the hallways of their houses.  My house had become a tomb of silence - my nest was empty and so was my heart and soul.  The worst part of this whole time was that I continually pretended to not be angry.  I had let my anger out in one large burst that night in my backyard several years ago, but I neglected to really give over my heart to God to protect it from the future path of resentment.  I was careless in my attempts to find contentment with God alone. This carelessly created a crack for pity, jealousy, and resentment to sprout tiny seeds which eventually grew into a raging field of fury.  I had to get real with God about how angry I was that He had chosen me for a different kind of life, a different earthly reality that does not translate into a permanent heavenly one.  

That's the crux of where I think my anger continues to surface.  I want my own way... my flesh.. my weak human self desires what I want when I want it. And the object of the wanting can be the issue. If I want a new pair of shoes or a vacation that is one thing. In my own strength, I can overcome those wants without being angry. But what if the object of your affection - that you long for is a real-life person? And not just any person, THE person who you spent half your life with... the person you built all your hopes and dreams and plans around. What if you want that specific person and God says no? That is where I find myself some days and it makes me MAD. And no person in their human strength can overcome the kind of anger this longing can produce.  Lately, I have come to realize that anger in grief and loss is not a one-time event- you can't just spout it out like steam from a teapot and be done. Events, circumstances and moments will continually come and challenge your ability to be content with God in your loss.  "Getting Real" that one time with God in the backyard did not magically innoculate me from anger. It is a continual process of being real and honest and totally transparent with God about my feelings that will help me deal with anger in a healthy way.  

I wish I could say that everything is better now- that I never get jealous or resentful or angry.  It is simply not true.  But I am better than I was before and I am working much harder at keeping it real.  

Long Time No Blog

It is hard to admit this but I have really neglected this blog. I knew it deep down but I have had a million excuses for why I have not been writing.  Moreover, I have neglected God's continual prompting to keep sharing what I am learning from Him through my journey of grief, healing and continuing to build this new life.  Recently a friend reminded me that I told her a while ago "God hasn't been teaching me all these things to keep them to myself". Ouch... I have totally been keeping things to myself.

I guess it is easier to not talk about the hard things, to hold them in. Holding tightly to my hurts and fears has become a new habit and it feels like it takes a lot more effort to recount the joys and praises too.  Earlier this year I felt God speaking over and over to me- "Tell you story- Tell MY story of who I have become in your life".

So in an effort to be more obedient and less selfish, I am back to this blog. I have been recounting a few things on Facebook over the past four years, but I realize that I need to record things in a more organized and permanent place than random Facebook posts. I am in the process of transferring some of those posts over that were about more pivotal things from the past few years. I am wondering where the rest of the story will come from - but I have a feeling the pile of dusty journals that I have filled over the past 6 years may play a part in that...

Stay tuned and thanks for reading.

Tracey

7 Birthdays in Heaven

46 years ago today you entered the world and things got a little lighter, a lot sassier, so much funnier and most of all a whole lot more love was spread around during your time here on earth. 

7 birthdays in heaven for you now Dave and we still miss you terribly. So thankful that you knew Jesus and you showed us what it was like to live for Him and love others like He did. 

Happy Birthday to you David Michael Robecker 12/15/1971 - 3/7/2011.

"So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal." 2 Corinthians 4:18

Better than a Snow Day

Today would be Dave's 45th birthday. I was thinking today would be the perfect birthday for him because it's absolutely dumping snow here and he was a maniac when it snowed. The first sign of flakes and he would run all over the house yelling "SNOW DAY". My favorite memory of him ever was one winter when we didn't get any snow and Taylor was so sad. So he drove up into the mountains and loaded the bed of his truck with snow and dumped it in the driveway so she and the neighbor kids could have one snow day.

I am positive that every single moment in heaven is better than a snow day and his favorite little wild blackberry pie, but I am so thankful we got to see him get so much joy out of the little things while he was here on earth

Love you, Dave! 12-15-71- 3-7-11

Signs, Signs, Signs

The State of Washington built a beautiful memorial for Dave. It sits exactly mids-span on the bridge that he was working on when he was killed.  The spot is just incredible.  One side of the bridge has panoramic views of the Olympic Mountain Range. The other side looks out over the water where ships and ferries float serenely by. There is a walking path filled with joggers, families taking a stroll and kids whizzing by on bikes.  Generally it is one of my favorite places on earth. Usually I gain so much peace and perspective just from sitting for an hour in this sacred spot.  

I was fortunate enough to get to spend some time on that bridge today. But this year was different.  In fact, I almost turned around when I was halfway there because I just wasn't feeling like being there this year. 

On the way there, I ran into Safeway to grab roses and Coke to leave at the plaque and the checker kind of barked at me, "You okay? You look kinda sad!" I said "Oh! I'm okay. How are you?" Without missing a beat she said, "Oh I'm just livin' the dream".  Anyone who spent even one day with Dave knows that was one of his very favorite sayings. Poor checker probably thought I was nuts when I burst out laughing and crying at the same time. Got back in my car and Hank Williams Jr (Dave's all-time favorite artist) was playing on the radio. Right, when I got to the top of the bridge the sun broke through the clouds for like two minutes and shone right on me. After being up there a while, I got back in my car and the very first song was "Simple Man" by Lynyrd Skynyrd (Dave's favorite song and the one played at his service).

Anyone who knows me knows I am not a big believer in signs, but I know that today God used a crabby checker at Safeway, songs on the radio and a little sun break on a gloomy Pacific Northwest day to remind me that He is right with me in those moments when my heart still aches and that He uses little things to show how big His love is for me.

Worry……..

 “Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life” Matthew 6:27

My mind worries and races all the time. I have struggled with worry most of my life. I conquer it temporarily only to slide back into the pattern of it again.  I think I am not even cognizant of it most the time. I live in it, not recognizing it because I am so used to its presence in my life.  But I know there is a better way- a new way that God is calling me to. Where the desire to control loses its grip on me. Where I slide off the suffocating yolk of fear- anxiety- what if’s- what about’s and take up yolk of Christ. This is a yolk of peace, truth, love, mercy and grace. What if I focused on the cross every time worry advanced? On the ransom paid for me- a broken, struggling, stinking mess of a person like me? If every time a fearful scenario started to play in my head I replaced it with a picture of outstretched arms- body broken – blood shed in agony that I could be free? What would it look like if at the very site of fear and worry - I dropped to my knees in praise and thanksgiving for that all was paid for me? What greater scenario can I face- more frightening than separation from my creator- the lover of my soul? Can anything separate me from Him- ever? The Apostle Paul was so sure of the truth that nothing could separate God from us.  He wrote “ For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”  But yet… But yet I doubt… I worry- I stew and fret. I let the worries dwell- fears grow- conflict sit in my mind until they take up all the room and nothing is left to praise Him for all that is good in my life.  I cling to things I cannot control- problems I was never meant to solve. The stories spin- conversations that have never happened. Outcomes decided in my mind alone because of my unbelief. Birthed in worry and fear rather than in truth. Things imagined that might never come to pass- that could never come to pass in the way I would imagine them because God alone knows the future. 

In my worries I become like a little girl standing before her Father.  Arms full of broken toys- refusing to put them down- trying to make them work but parts are missing- batteries are dead- pieces don’t fit or are long worn out. The Father holds a big shiny box. A gift- new things- things I need- things to bring joy- But I refuse to open the box- I would rather cling stubbornly to what is in my arms – to try and make things work that are useless now. All the while the Father gently pleads- lay it down- take this gift- trust me that what is in this box is better than what you cling to. The box holds grace, mercy, peace, wisdom and truth. It is everything I need but I am so afraid to let go of all I have- to truly empty my arms so the Father can fill them. My controlling nature- my flesh would rather be full of the wrong things than be empty, because emptiness would mean total abandonment of all control. So I cling to worry- fear- worldly comfort- the approval of other people- all these things give me a false sense of control. Better to cling stubbornly to the allusion of being full than face the nothingness of total surrender. Into the nothingness- the emptiness is where I am terrified to go. To really let go and see what is there. But that is the beginning of what I need.  The filling from God. That I might let go one by one of the broken pieces of my life so that I am total empty- arms limp- so that God can gather me into his. To fully glimpse His glory- His peace and love. To place in my arms what I truly need. The truth that God alone is all I need. And what I need is better than anything I could ever desire.

The heart of my current struggle with worry is rooted in my loss. I cling stubbornly to the idea that I will never be as happy as I was when my husband was alive.  That the giver of every good gift somehow loves me less or is less trustworthy with what He gives. That I will never be whole again. The place of contentment alone is unattainable now. I am clinging to the desire for my old life with all that I have. I hold the past so tightly and scream- “No God! You can’t have the past- I need to live in it to be whole.” If I truly give that over I will have nothing- be nothing. But what I think I hold onto is an illusion. The memories are there but Dave lives today with you. You chose Lord- to take him to be with you. To change his residence. He died and you said,  “This is my will”. My good and perfect, pleasing will to heal him in eternity. So much beauty when one of your children comes to you in paradise. No more tears- no more pain- no sin- no burden of shame- only your glory in all it’s perfection.  So much beauty wrapped in such a terrible, incredible gift. The tearing apart of a family- The two who had become one- who were adhered as it is defined in the Greek  “as if glued” are torn apart. Total destruction accomplishes your will. Only you can step in now God to fill that hole that's left. To complete in me what was torn away.  Just like when the veil was torn- when the perfect union between Father, Son and Spirit was broken. The greatest purpose in the history of the world was fulfilled. To reconcile a lost world back to you.  You know the pain of separation God. You know loss. You turned your face away the loss was so great on the cross. Even you, the creator of the universe could not look upon it.  You know.  Because you know, only you can truly give me what I need now.

So maybe what is in shiny new box for me- for all of us - can be trusted as better than all the wildest dreams and desires - than the past- than our attempts to control. The gift is greater than the most insurmountable fears.  I want to know it’s okay to let the broken toys slide to the floor- the pieces I am holding that no longer fit - those can be replaced as I stand with arms wide open before the God who is the giver of every good thing. Beauty and love wrapped in an awful, wonderful, painful, incomprehensible gift.  I am standing on the brink. I am praying I can let go and take the gift.