Author Archives: Deanna O'Leary

A GATEWAY TO GRATITUDE

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It’s been so long since I’ve sat down and poured my heart out to you all, but lately I have not been able to escape the desire to do so.  As this new year has gotten underway there is something that leaps from my heart in gratitude for where I am and what God has done in my life lately.  It is something that altered my spiritual journey and involves a group of believers who have no idea how deeply they affected my life or how they made a difference in ways they would not have imagined.  This is my way of saying thank you and sharing with you the lessons I learned as a result. 

Most of you know I have been through great losses over the past 5-6 years, including the passing of my mom and dad just six months apart last year. After their passing I felt like everything in my life had been stripped away from me. In 2018, I had left a church where I had devoted 23 years of my life, including my role as Music/Choir Director for 19 of those years. It became apparent that God was moving me in a different direction, and although I followed, it came at a time in my personal life where I needed the support of a church family more than I can even express! I knew, however, that not following God’s leading to move on would have made things even more difficult. I thought He would immediately move me to the place He wanted me to continue serving, but that didn’t happen. We visited a few churches prior to the loss of my parents, but my dad struggled with things being different, as he was dealing with advancing dementia at the time. Recognizing that “finding” a new church wasn’t going to happen with Dad’s condition and Mom’s failing health, we began attending a home church in my sister’s house that lasted a while until we all began to feel as though God was pulling us to find our new church home. My husband and I found a wonderful church and were “all in” with our attendance and participation, but after several months, something just wasn’t fitting. It was a great church, but we realized it was not where God had been leading us, though we tried to stay because we didn’t want to have to move again. With the upheaval in our lives, we just wanted to find “home” and stay there. We learned, however, that trying to stay in our comfort zones when God is still moving doesn’t work that well – not in the decision of a church to attend or in any other decisions we face in life.

We all have times where things around us get a little shaky, but for a child of God, He is still working through those times. He promised He would lead and guide us, but when there is upheaval in an area (or many areas) of life, most of us naturally want to hunker down and not move at all. We just want comfort and peace, and I was scrambling to find anything that resembled it. I just wanted to feel grounded again, but it wasn’t happening for me. When we find ourselves in these places, it is vitally important for us to be still, take a breath – even if it is a forced one – and grab hold of the truths of God’s word and promises to us that He will never leave us (Deut. 31:8) and that He is working all things out for our ultimate good (Rom. 8:28). It doesn’t mean you won’t struggle or even feel alone at times. It doesn’t mean you won’t cry out for understanding or clarity. God’s timing is perfect, but when it doesn’t align with ours, it can cause us great distress in our humanity. Waiting is never easy but waiting when you feel isolated or alone makes it even harder.

After Mom passed, my husband and I began attending a different church, one to which I was being drawn.  From the first Sunday, there were things that stood out for me (amazing music with choir and orchestra, along with a biblically sound message), but the thing that stood out the most was that everyone we met seemed genuinely happy to be there and genuinely happy to see everyone who walked in the door whether they were familiar or totally new!  I not only felt welcome, but I also felt seen for the first time in a long time.  People treated us like old friends even though we were technically strangers.  And coming from several years of feeling so isolated, it was the best feeling in the world.  As we attended, I continued to watch the dynamic each week to see if what we experienced was consistent and genuine, and it seemed to be so. 

After a couple of months, I felt God drawing me into a desire to serve alongside these people, and I was able to join the choir, though I had not yet made the decision whether to officially join the church as a member. That experience, and being welcomed into that group of people with open arms, is something for which I will always be grateful. What it provided for me was the opportunity to see if what I saw and felt flowing from them during services each week was true. Was it a performance? Was it a group full of egos? Or was it people with hearts of service and love for God simply doing what they are called to do? From the very first practice with them, I saw an authenticity that touched my heart deeply. Everyone involved in that music program had a huge impact on my decision to officially join the church. God used all of them to validate and cement in my heart that this is where He had led me, and this is where I belonged. Not only was there truth in the messages, but there was also truth in the people. They didn’t know the profound way God was using them to impact my life and my spiritual journey, but I do, and I am beyond grateful.

What you do as person of faith matters, and especially so as a member of a body of believers. You never know who may be watching, searching for something that is real…something that surpasses “religion” and cuts to the heart of our relationships with God and to each other. I’ve said this often, but Jesus tells us we ARE salt and light, not that we can be salt and light. We just need to decide what kind of salt and light we will be. God can do amazing things in our lives and in the lives of others around us when we serve with a willing heart. There is no way we will ever know the scope of how our lives have positively impacted this world when we put God’s word into action. We won’t always see how He worked in the lives of people around us just by us pouring love into even the strangers we meet along the way. But just like a stone tossed into the water, the ripples extend far beyond what we can see and to depths we may never even know existed.

I have such gratitude for the people that God used to create a gateway to the body of believers that has become my home.  For every person I have encountered that has loved and shown God’s love not only to me, but to everyone who walks through that door, thank you.  Thank you for your witness and example of what a family of God looks like.  When I lost my dad on Christmas Eve last year, I felt so alone in many ways. I had only begun building relationships with those around me in my new church home, so I didn’t feel that full web of support I had experienced for all but the previous few years of my life.  But standing here today, I am also a testimony of how God can soothe and heal our hearts in reverse because the unbelievable joy, love, and connectedness I feel to Him and to all of you makes it seem like you’ve been with me all along…even back then. 

As we continue into this new year, I pray we can all take a moment and remember those who have impacted us in such a way that we are changed for the better.  As people of faith, let us remember that we are impacting others every single day of our lives.  Not only are we commanded to love, but we are commanded how to love and what that love says to the world around us…. “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples if you love one another.” (John 13:34-35)

Blessings to you all!

p.s. If you are looking for a place to worship, come join me! https://www.gatewayvisalia.com/

Peaceful Tides

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Recently, my husband and I made a day trip to the beach. It had been too long, and a lot of loss had occurred in our lives since our last visit. I can tell you that getting my feet on the sand and back in the water was long overdue! The beach has always been a place of solace and comfort for me. It is where I feel most connected to myself, to nature, and to the One who created it all. I feel God’s Spirit all around, and He speaks to my heart in ways that bring new perspectives and realizations. It is where He soothes my broken heart or wraps His arms around me in my grief or trouble. I can stand there for hours just listening to the sound of the waves as they tumble onto the beach around me. We all have places like this, places that touch our hearts and still our souls long enough for the noise of this world to fade into the background so that we can hear or see what we NEED to hear or see.

This life can be so complicated and layered. There is so much going on around us all the time. It is a frenetic pace and, if we aren’t careful, everything within us takes on that pace and the chaos that comes with it. We get so used to the noise of living that we forget how to actually live. The endless distractions or things clamoring for our attention manage to absorb our time and energy. It becomes the “norm,” and we don’t even recognize it anymore. We have endless and continual information rushing at us like an unstoppable tidal wave of distractions, tearing up everything in its path. As people of faith, we can get so caught up in trying to keep up with the pace and then we wonder why we struggle to feel connected to our Father. I can’t help but think of how He tells us, “Be still and know that I am God” (Isaiah 46:10). If I want to truly know Him and be confident in who He is and how He moves, then I must become still.

Being still is not an easy thing to do these days. Not only do we struggle for time in our schedules to do so but becoming still actually stirs movement in other ways. As a child of God, it is almost impossible to sit quietly for very long before we start to reflect, and when we reflect, our spirits turn to the One who created us, redeemed us, and lives within us.  We hear the still, small voice within and sometimes it reveals things we need to change. Other times, it reveals truths we couldn’t see or hear in the cacophony of our daily lives.  Noise can drown out so much, and as our world continues to become faster and faster, it is so incredibly important to slow down so that we can truly hear, see, and feel those profound things that He desires for us to understand.

Standing on the sand recently, with the waves lapping around my feet, I found myself back in that old familiar place. I found the stillness in every fiber of my being and the world began to make sense again. I’m not saying that situations in my life suddenly changed, or griefs I’ve had were suddenly gone, but rather that my perspective lifted higher, and I could breathe again.  I love to stand and see what is revealed as the waves recede back into the sea. Beautiful shells or rocks appear, and they shimmer in the sunlight as it dances across their surface. Incredible sea creatures, different and colorful, stretch out into the warmth around them and provide a glimpse into the intricacies of God’s creation and the depth of his unending creativity. I don’t think twice about the fact the waves are constantly rolling back into the sea because there is beauty in what lies upon the sand as a result, things I may have never seen otherwise.  These moments center me, and it wasn’t until after we returned home that something struck a chord in my heart so strongly that it reverberated through my mind. 

There are times in life, certainly in mine, where I feel God’s presence all around me. Sometimes it comes through time spent in nature, with family, or in the embrace of a friend; sometimes it comes while standing with other believers, praising Him in song or sitting together as His family, spending time together with Him. But there are also times when it seems like maybe He’s not as near or that I have somehow lost my ability to hear Him, yet He has promised that He never leaves nor forsakes us. He is still with us as an endless sea of love that does not disappear, but rather ebbs and flows around us. There is a beautiful rhythm in the way He moves in our lives, sometimes seemingly nearer than others, but if we spend our entire life being so focused on watching the waves recede, we will never turn our vision to what is revealed when they do so. We will miss some of the very things our Father is trying to show us. He doesn’t recede to abandon; He recedes to reveal!

I am constantly amazed at how He speaks to us as His children. He finds ways to meet each one of us where we are, in whatever place we find ourselves at any given point in time. He knows exactly the language to speak that will open my heart, my ears, and my eyes so that I can find peace and understanding – not in having the answers, but in knowing that HE does. Those “languages” could be in images or scenes that come to mind, an impression of His voice within, the laughter and love of family or friends, or countless other things through which He speaks to us but make no mistake about this: If you are His child, He is speaking to you and your heart. The best way to hear Him is to be still and listen.

Whether you find yourself in times of sunshine or rain, abundance or want, joy or grief, remember you are never alone. Your Father, the One who loves you most and sacrificed Himself to make a way so that He could be with you again forever, is with you always. He knows exactly where you are and how to reach you…and He will never let you go.

Blessings!

Love Goes Further

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Valentine’s Day is upon us once again, and everywhere you look, you see reminders of love and romance, of couples and togetherness. I was never much for celebrating the day in the traditional sense, as it is also my birthday. My mom, for as long as I can remember, mostly just glossed over the holiday because to her, the day I was born was more important. 55 years ago today, she didn’t even realize it was Valentine’s Day.  I had been born at 6:35 am and it wasn’t until my dad showed up later with flowers and candy that she realized the significance of the holiday.  She kept the heart in which the candy came and later put my baby clothes in it. I still have it today. Love has a way of lingering in the most unusual ways and symbols sometimes.

Today, after almost eight months since Mom passed, I decided it was time to start reclaiming an area of my home. It had been my room of peace for years, as I would write or paint, pray or study God’s word, or sometimes just sit in silence and breathe. When Mom moved in, I wanted her to have the best spot in the house, so I gladly moved my things and created a blended feel in the other bedroom that would work to some degree for those much-needed respites. I absolutely loved that Mom loved her room so much, and she would often tell me how peaceful and comfortable it was for her. It warmed my heart to have seen her enjoy her surroundings even though she was heartbroken to be living away from Dad for the first time in their 64 years together. After she passed, her room has been a source of comfort for me. I had spent countless hours in there with her, talking with her, laughing with her, and later on, caring for her most basic needs.  Even in her absence, I could still feel her presence somehow. I could sit on the foot of her bed and pray or talk to her as if she was still sitting there with me.  It was sometimes so beautiful, yet sometimes so painful to do so.

I’ve heard love described as the rational commitment to the well-being of another, and I have written often about the true nature of love many times in the past. Love goes far beyond the commercialized version of itself. Love walks in the hard places and the tough times. 1 Corinthians chapter 13 explains to us that “Love is patient, love is kind and is not jealous; love does not brag and is not arrogant, does not act unbecomingly; it does not seek its own, is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong suffered, does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”  When I read those verses, I don’t see all the touchy-feely aspects of the holiday we know today.  I see something that is hard to maintain at times. I see something that puts others first and readily forgives. I see something that is honest and hopeful even in the face of adversity. I see it not just in celebrating the sunshine in life but trudging through the dark and difficult places along the way. Love is a gift that goes much further than anything we can imagine. It allows us to stand strong even when we may be at our weakest.

My heart has been telling me for the past few days it was time to start transitioning things between Mom’s room and my “beach room” of peace. I just told a friend this morning that I felt the desire to do so but just wasn’t sure yet if it was time.  I spoke for quite a while with my husband about how I was feeling and the overwhelming sense that changing anything meant I was erasing some part of my precious mom. I know that may sound silly to some, but the thought of transitioning things around brought feelings of guilt, as though I was selfish to disrupt things. I felt anxiety about losing the sameness of that space and that somehow, I would start to forget things I didn’t want to forget.  His rational mind in a moment of my shaken one was such a blessed gift, and after we talked, I truly felt in my heart it was time to start working on the shift. I was actually excited to be moving things around and transferring the feel of one room to the other and had only the bed left to move, and then it hit me.  It felt like everything just stopped, and I was completely frozen for a moment, then the tears poured from my eyes. God had been doing so much in my life over the past week, revealing so much and putting so many pieces of myself back together. The joy I felt was pulling me onward, and I felt great peace and growth, yet in a moment shorter than a breath, I was lying across my mom’s bed suddenly drained of my physical and emotional strength. I felt like a failure for not being able to power through the last piece of what I was doing after God had provided such clarity and strength for me recently. Then I remembered, love goes further, even when we can’t.  Why?  Because God IS love. 

Our Heavenly Father loves us beyond comprehension. His love reached so far that it took Him to a cross to die for me and you, all because He wanted to make a way of redemption where we would be able to live with Him forever. His mercy and grace know no bounds, and He continually restores my strength and peace over and over again. Not once has He failed to fulfill His promises or keep His word, and it is Him that I find strength. His love continually goes further. He reaches out to us beyond our failures or our distress. He reaches to us beyond our doubts or fears at times. His hand is constantly reaching for us, to hold us up when we are weak or to direct us on our path when we are strong. He pulls at our hearts to recognize Him even when our vision is clouded by our tears. His love relentlessly goes further than our circumstances or the feelings with which we may struggle at times! In His word, we consistently see that it is everlasting, unfailing, generous, and sacrificial.  

As the world’s definition of love swirls around us on this holiday, let us turn our eyes upon the One who loved us before we even drew a breath. As His children, He told us to love each other as He has loved us. It isn’t just in the unclouded days that we find God’s love, but so often it shows up in the cold, rainy storms of life and wraps itself around us.  God’s loving embrace can be found in our spirits and our hearts, but sometimes it is in the hug from a loved one or in the words of wisdom and comfort from a trusted friend. Sometimes it simply finds us when a gust of wind knocks us to our knees for just a moment, as it did for me tonight. So let us step back and see love for not what it is, but WHO it is.  When we do that, we cannot help but love Him back.  As the song says, “You died for me, now I’m living for you. Lord, it’s the least I can do.”

Blessings and Happy Valentine’s Day!

  • How priceless is Your unfailing love, O God! People take refuge in the shadow of Your wings.” Psalm 36:7
  • “This is how God showed His love among us: He sent His only Son into the world that we might live through Him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.” 1 John 4:9-10
  • “See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called the children of God! And that is what we are! “  1 John 3:1
  • “’For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’” Jeremiah 29:11

An Opening Bloom

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Many years ago, I was having lunch at a famous Chinese restaurant in San Francisco and experienced flowering tea for the first time in my life. If you aren’t familiar with flowering tea, it is exactly what its name infers. It is normally a mild tea that contains an actual closed flower in it that, when steeped, opens and blooms. It makes for a truly gorgeous cup of tea.

With the recent deaths of both my mom and dad, it has been a challenge for me to not close myself off to things around me. When we endure trouble and difficult times, it is so easy to curl up and just want the world to stop for a while.  Believe me, I get it! I realized yesterday morning that it has often felt like I am waking up from a very long dream but paralyzed in some way.  Today, however, I can’t help but think about how God has provided so many things in my life to help keep me putting one foot in front of the other, even if it’s only an inch at a time some days.  Throughout all the turmoil, He has continually been walking me through every single moment of every single day. So what does this have to do with an interesting cup of tea?

Flowering tea cannot be done with cold or even cool water because the flowers just won’t bloom. It takes extremely hot water to cause them to open up and reveal their colors. I can’t help but think of how this is also true of our lives and the trials through which we walk. Sometimes it takes enduring extremely difficult and even painful times for our hearts to open and begin to bloom again. Sometimes it is through the heat that we are forced outside the shadows and into the light. If asked, most of us would say we much prefer comfort to pain, yet pain is a result of growth. There is a pendulum that swings between the growth from pain and the healing of comfort, and both are needed in their respective times. Too much pain in life and we will collapse; too much comfort and we will atrophy. If we give up in the middle of the journey on which we walk, we may never see what could have been.

Merriam-Webster defines endurance as “the ability to withstand hardship or adversity, especially: the ability to sustain a prolonged, stressful effort or activity.”  We’ve all had at least some measure of experience with endurance. Enduring, by nature, will wear you out, but there is something beautiful that happens when we push through life’s pains and find the stamina to keep going. When we endure, we are gifted with golden moments in time that we would never experience if we just gave up. Sometimes these moments come at the end of a journey, but often they come all along the way. God not only has a way of strengthening us through ways we could never imagine, but He also provides respites for our weary souls as we travel onward.

Recently, I shared with someone that sometimes we can’t see the trees for the forest (instead of the forest for the trees). It is easy, as a person of faith in times of distress, to say God is in control and we know He is working everything out for our good. Although true, that perspective is like a view of the forest. It is great to step back and remember that God is always making a way through our situations and emotional turmoil, but it is just as important to sometimes step forward and take notice of all the little trees that make up that forest. Those trees might be the people in our lives, organizations to which we belong, the beauty of nature, a text from a family-member or a late-night conversation with a friend. For me, there has been a grove of trees in my life over recent months within the church I attend, and I would venture to say that most of the people involved haven’t a clue of their impact on my journey, or how God has used them as a salve to some of the broken places in my heart. I look at these individual trees with wonder in my heart tonight. I am in awe of how my Heavenly Father continually weaves together a net of His grace to hold me up through individual people and experiences. Yes, the forest of His overwhelming love and grace in taking care of us is a beautiful scene to behold, but each of the trees that make up that forest are unique and special when you look a little more closely. It is in the balance of these two perspectives that I fall to my knees in gratitude to the One who knows the end from the beginning and how to handle every turn of the path along the way.

God is good even when life isn’t. Joy and happiness may be related but they are not the same. We read in James 1:1, “Count it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance.” You might be wondering how that is even possible! This isn’t about being happy in our trials, but rather finding joy in the fact that our trials are evidence of God working in our lives. Just like an athlete who endures the stress and pain of training so he or she can run a race with maximum strength and efficiency, God is allowing our trials to strengthen us to run the race that is set before us (Hebrews 1:1-2). It is this perspective that allows joy to flow through us even when we are struggling. We read a few phrases later in James 1:5, “But if any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all generously and without reproach, and it will be given to him.” James is referring to what he said in verse one about understanding our trials from a different perspective, that we should (and can) find joy in the assurance God is working in our lives and strengthening us. If we can’t seem to be able to do that, then we simply need to ask God for wisdom necessary for that higher perspective, and He will give it to us.

The best thing any of us can do is to recognize God for who He is and to understand who we are in light of that truth. He is worthy not only of our praise and worship, but also of our trust and faith in the way in which He is directing our paths or the paths of those we love. Storms may rise but we so often need to simply be still and let God move. We need to have a conversation with ourselves that reminds us of the truth that God is in control and there is no need for worry. A dear friend recently shared with me the words to an old hymn, and although the poetry of the original lyrics is so beautiful, it is the message the writer is giving to her own soul in times of distress that moves me to tears and inspires my heart. I share them with you in the phrasing I speak them to myself today. Be still, my soul; the Lord is on your side. Patiently bear the cross of grief or pain. Leave it to God to put things in order and provide, because in every change, He will remain faithful. Be still, my soul: your best, your heavenly Friend will lead you through the difficult and painful paths to a joyful end. Be still, my soul for God has taken it upon Himself to guide the future as He has the past. Don’t let anything shake your hope and confidence. One day you will see and understand the mysteries you have now. Be still, my soul: the waves and winds still know His voice who ruled them while He lived here on earth. Oh soul, be still when dearest friends depart and everything is darker in the valley of your tears. Be still and then you will better know His love, His heart who comes to soothe your sorrow and your fears. Be still, my soul and remember from His own fullness, your Jesus can replace everything He takes away. The hour is growing near when we will all be forever with the Lord. When disappointment, grief, and fear are gone, sorrow will be forgotten and love’s purest joys will be restored. When change and tears are past, we will all finally meet and be safe and blessed.”

Whether we are walking through times of distress, grief or pain, there is beauty in what God is doing in us and through us. There is a purpose in the fires through which we walk, and God is always working through the searing pain that flows around us. Every trial we endure is as that glass of flowering tea, and the extreme heat we may sometimes feel will destroy us is the very thing necessary to set us free to bloom. Weeping may endure for the night, but joy comes in the morning. I pray for stillness for your soul, that it is reminded we can rest in the arms of our Father and trust Him. We can feel a blessed security not only in His promises, but in the truth that neither He nor his promises will ever change because He is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow. It is overwhelming when our souls are stilled and our vision is cleared. I am so grateful for that clarity, and I cannot wait to see the bloom of the flower this season of life brings forth.

Blessings!

Grief Runs Deep

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This morning I picked up the ashes of my dad who passed away on Christmas Eve. It was an odd sensation since my mom had just passed away six months earlier on June 25, 2021. To say things are strange in my world would be an understatement, but today I just need to take a little time and share some things weighing on my heart so I can make a little room for a breath in the midst of this storm. I hope you don’t mind.

To know where I’m coming from, you need to know where I’ve been.  Shortly after the time of mom’s passing, I really wanted to write a tribute post to her, but the words just wouldn’t come.  My mom and I were inexpressibly close. After her memorial service, I tried again to write my post, but again the words wouldn’t come.  So, as we were approaching Christmas day (the six-month anniversary of her passing), I decided it was time to finally put my thoughts together. I almost had my post finalized, but on the evening of the 23rd, I got a call I did not expect. The memory center, where my dad had been residing for the past 2.5 years, called to say he had taken a sudden turn for the worse.

We took off for Dad’s home and sat with him for 26 hours without so much as even a nap until he passed at 6:50 pm on Christmas Eve. So now the things I had started to write in tribute to my mom got very complicated and layered with the passing of my dad.  Now I write this post as an orphan, and it just feels odd. Every post I’ve ever done for my blog, I’ve read aloud to my mom.  It was something we shared, something she enjoyed, and now, once again, words aren’t coming easily.  There are too many of them and yet not enough. It’s complicated, but then so was the journey the last four to five years.

Not only was I close to my mom and dad, but they were also our “couple friends” for me and Michael. They’re the ones with who we went to dinner multiple times a week or on excursions together.  They’re the ones with who we spent weekends hanging out or watching sporting events.  For several years, the four of us golfed together six days a week! Whatever we did really didn’t matter as long as we enjoyed the time together. 

When Dad first started showing signs of dementia, my entire world felt like it shifted. I immediately wanted to know everything there was or everything I could get my hands on about his condition.  I wanted to know what to expect and how to navigate it as best we could. I was obsessed with learning so I could help care for my dad in a way that preserved his dignity and allowed us to keep him in his own home as long as possible.

By the summer of 2017, my world started to become very small. I would go to work, often talking with Dad several times a day to help him through issues or confusion with which he was dealing. I’d come home after work and spend about 30 minutes with my husband, try to eat something and then head to my parents’ house, where I routinely did not return home until 11:00-12:00 at night.  Then I would do it all again the next day. It became my purpose. It became an internal identity even more than an external one.

My dad moved into memory care in June of 2019 due to the deterioration of his condition, and us having exhausted every technique, effort, and ability to care for him at home. It was a gut-wrenching time for all of us, but mostly for my mom being separated from the love of her life. They met when Dad was twelve years old, and he told her that day he was going to marry her. They never dated anyone else and were married in 1963. It was a blessing to have Mom move in with us after Dad moved into that wonderful memory care facility with a staff that is beyond incredible.

Life had changed drastically for our family that had already seen so much. At the time of all these changes, Mom was 23 years post-heart transplant and had definitely beat the odds, since they told us her surgery would be a GREAT success if she made it to five years.  What a gift we were given to have her for so many more, but because of the large number of transplant medications she had to take every day, she developed interstitial lung disease.  Eventually she needed supplemental oxygen and continued to slowly go downhill, but everything that made her who she is never faltered. Her humor and joy, her kindness and generosity, her faith, hope, and love were all just as strong as they’d ever been.  She was the most amazing example of what it means to never give up and to trust fully in the Lord.

In late spring 2021, Mom started having trouble with a loss of strength in her legs, but nowhere else. She eventually agreed to go to the ER to see if it might be some kind of infection, since the doctors hadn’t been able to pinpoint a reason for two months.  We went to the hospital on a Friday night, and by Tuesday, all the doctors determined it was just a very sudden progression of her lung disease. Mom came back home late that night with hospice and passed away a few days later on Friday afternoon at 4:05 pm, just ten days after she and Dad celebrated their 58th wedding anniversary when the three of us had lunch together.

In the vacuum of the loss of my mom, I struggled greatly, but I also still needed to be there for my dad. I spent great amounts of time with him, sometimes just visiting and singing with him, but other times being there to calm him down from being stressed, and even eventually assisting with his most basic daily needs/tasks.  There was still a lot to do. Mom wasn’t there, but Dad still needed things; he still needed me.  I still had a purpose.

Losing Dad one day before the six-month anniversary of losing Mom was a blow. It was a stunning blow. Although I tried to just pick up and keep going like I always have, something wasn’t right.  On Sunday, January 2nd, I went down to my office to take down all the decorations that had been put up for Christmas. In the six hours I was by myself, I realized something is broken in me. I don’t know if it’s my heart, mind or spirit, but something is definitely broken. 

Grief is a fluid pain. It is like a river that overflows its banks and suddenly has no predictable borders. There is no way to map the path and no time frame as to when it will recede again. My parents both had such a deep, abiding faith and trust in God, and so do I. I’ve written so often about a higher perspective in looking at things in life or in ways to keep holding on when storms come along.  I KNOW how to walk through difficult times and losses, but this one has dropped me into a place where almost nothing feels familiar anymore.  On top of the normal grief that comes with losses like these, I have lost a huge purpose and part of my internal identity. Honestly, I feel lost. The world is different now; I am different.

Faith does not prevent us from having struggles, nor does it always quell our fears. It doesn’t suddenly take away our pain or cause us to just skip on down the road, but we can still have faith while the tears are flooding our pillows. We can still have faith and trust, even when pains are so great that we don’t know where we will get our next breath.  Faith, hope, love…these three things remain and abide, but not without the noise of the troubles in this life. They remain and abide despite the storms swirling around them.

We make choices every day about how we will live our lives. Emotions come along with our circumstances, but we can still choose to believe while in the midst of those emotions. There is a song I used to sing that said, “I choose to believe that You are faithful, and my life is in Your hands, and this mystery I face today is part of bigger plan. I choose not to be discouraged when the sun will not break through. I have a choice in trusting You, so Lord this is what I choose.”  I don’t know that I could sing that song at this exact moment, but I believe I will get there.  I believe it because I know God understands where I am and what I need. I’m thankful for that because even I don’t know what I need at this point. 

The shortest verse in the Bible is John 11:35, and it’s found in the story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead.  It says simply, “Jesus wept,” but the verse right before it tells us why. “When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her weeping, He was deeply moved in His spirit and was troubled…”   Just let that sink in for a moment. Jesus loved Lazarus and knew he was dead. He also knew He was about to raise him back to life, but when He saw the sisters and friends of Lazarus in such deep grief and distress, it bothered Him and moved Him to tears! He knew the joy that was about to come, but it didn’t keep Him from literally crying with sadness to see those He loved experiencing such heartache and pain.  That thought brings me comfort. God knows that it was time for Mom and Dad to go home to be with Him (and each other). God knew it was going to be a grand reunion and the joy and celebration it would bring in Heaven, but He also knew it was going to devastate me and bring a heartache like I’ve never known.  God knew that Heaven’s gain would leave me feeling lost and without a purpose. He knows, but more than that, He cares! When I am grieving and the tears won’t stop, His heart feels that pain and sees those tears, and it moves Him to tears right along with me. 

When we are walking through the valleys of life, no matter how deep, we are not alone. God is still there right in the middle of the darkness. We may not always be able to see Him clearly because of the blackness, but He sees us as if we were in the middle of the light, because we ARE in the middle of the light. If God is with us, there is light even if we can’t see it.  My favorite passage includes a verse that says, “If I say, ‘Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,’ even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.”  Regardless of how you or I feel, there is still light. There is still hope and there is still love.

If, like me, you are trudging through one of life’s valleys and trying to find your way, you are not alone. The One who sees the beginning from the end is still working things out for our ultimate good. He can see all the joy and every great experience that is to come in our lives even though we can’t see past today.  He knows it is going to be ok because He has promised to never leave us and to walk us through everything we face. He sees the you and me that are laughing and engaging with life again. He sees the you and me that are stronger because of what we are walking through right now. He sees it all, but most importantly He sees YOU. I’m not saying the road is easy, but I pray we can remember there is a path forward and God, Himself is walking with us and clearing the way with each step. 

Take care of you and of those around you. Love each other; pray for each other because you never know through what valley the person next to you is walking.

Blessings.