Thankfulness & trust

On the theme of thankfulness...
"Thankfulness takes the sting out of adversity. That is why I have instructed you to give thanks for everything. There is an element of mystery in this transaction: You give Me thanks (regardless of your feelings), and I give you Joy (regardless of your circumstances). This is a spiritual act of obedience - at times blind obedience. To people who don't know Me intimately, it can seem irrational and even impossible to thank Me for heartrending hardships. Nonetheless, those who obey Me in this way are invariably blessed, even though difficulties may remain. Thankfulness opens your heart to My presence and your mind to My thoughts. You may still be in the same set of circumstances, but it is as if a light has been switched on, enabling you to see from My perspective. It is this light of My presence that removes the sting from adversity. " Jesus Calling

I struggle with several things lately, one of them being thankfulness.  It's funny how just the act of saying, "Thank you Father", even if I don't know what I'm saying 'thank you' for, brings a sense of comfort.  But I also struggle with trust.  I can hear God tell me, 'trust me' but how do I trust someone who has ripped my heart out?  Alex has been having some medical issues along with some issues at school and worrying about these have made me sick to my stomach.  I obsess about making the right decisions, about not missing anything important, about protecting him without smothering him.  Normally, I would try and let these go and turn them over to God but I hesitate.....how can I trust God to look out for Alex and take care of him when His version of 'taking care' of Ian tore him from our lives?  God always rescued us when Alex was sick, we weren't rescued this time.  But maybe Ian was; maybe he was rescued from decisions he would have made, things he would have done.  Even that is of little comfort when the pain of losing him is overwhelming.

I'm working on the trust.  I hope it will come with time.  For now, what can I be thankful for?  The answer I found, at least for now, is the mercy of a God who loved me enough to sacrifice His own son, so He could look upon me.  Look upon me as I meander through this fog of grief, loving me enough to be patient with me, loving me enough to help me heal.......I just have to let Him.

Even Abe understood

I watched Ian's memorial video for the first time.  I don't know if I was trying to torture myself or just wanted to remember all the things that were said that day but it was good to see it.  I remember the day like it was yesterday, but some of the finer details were lost on me that day; jeez, wonder why?

Sometimes I feel like I'm clawing at the air, trying to hang onto Ian; whatever little bit of him is left.  I realized how much worse it would have been if he died at a younger age; my need, my compulsion, to keep him safe, to look out for him would have been overwhelming and my desire to be with him would have been all encompassing.  My dad used to joke that I am a 'lioness' when it comes to my kids.  I will do anything to keep them safe, their welfare and being their protector permeates to my bones and that urge doesn't die, not even when they do.  After we buried Ian, I was glad we decided to have him cremated because I could so easily envision myself tearing into the earth to hold him again, to touch his face, just to reassure myself that he was safe - even if it was in a grave.

We made it through our first Thanksgiving without him - this new normal sucks.  I kept thinking back to previous Thanksgivings when Ian would acquiesce and entertain us on the piano; I will never hear that again and I miss it.  Eric, Amy & I went to see the movie Lincoln today (GREAT movie, by the way) thinking I would escape the constant feeling of loss but even there it surrounded me.  Just before the movie was a commercial for St. Jude's Children's Hospital filled with children battling cancer - I couldn't even bear to look up at the screen.  I have always loved history so I was really looking forward to watching in unfold in front of me.  I had forgotten that even Abe & Mary Lincoln wrestled with the loss of a child - their son, Willie.  I so understood Mary's grief, I understood the freshness of it even years afterwards.  The questions, the 'what if's'....even there I couldn't escape.

Someone very wise shared with Eric his thoughts on our journey through this grief.  When our bodies have suffered a great blow it goes into shock to protect itself - parts of our body will 'shut down' in order to allow itself to heal. He believes the same is true for our spirit; when we have suffered a great loss our spirit goes into a kind of shock.  There are parts of us that goes numb in order to deal with the pain; it doesn't mean that we are less of a Christian but just that our spirits need time to heal......that helped.  Thank you.

Honoring Ian this Christmas

I went to a 'class' today at the Hope Center for those who are grieving a loss on 'how to get through the holidays'.  I had no idea what to expect....I don't usually feel comfortable at 'group' things.  They had some valuable information to help us navigate the holidays but my impatience was getting the best of me.  There were folks going thru all manner of losses....husbands, 'life partners', long time friends, mothers and me.  I just started to get ticked off when they kept saying "all losses are the same"....I have to disagree, from where I'm sitting they aren't.  Somebody grieving the loss of her 85 year old mother after a full life, full of love, marriage, children and grandchildren is NOT the same as grieving the loss of a 19 year old who will not get to experience any of those things.  Yes, it's sad; yes, it's a loss but do not tell me it's the same.

I've been told that suffering a tragedy makes us more compassionate towards others....I guess I'll have to work on that.

I left with a few more tools on how to get through the holidays but still had to answer the question: what to do about Christmas?  Thanksgiving is a given - we sit, we eat, we eat some more, done.  Christmas is a completely different matter.  There are so many different elements wrapped up (excuse the pun) in celebrating Christmas: shopping, baking, wrapping presents, picking out a tree, decorating the tree, decorating the house, Christmas Eve traditions, opening presents.  It just doesn't feel right to do all those things like nothing has happened, like Ian hasn't died.  I wish I could think of some really cool, new thing to do....like flying to Alaska to see the Northern Lights then flying home or spending Christmas in Hawaii, or secluded in a cabin surrounded by snow....but I don't think any of those will help me forget that Ian isn't there to share it all.

We have found one way to honor Ian this Christmas.  During our late night talks, Ian & I would talk about silly things.  We would also talk about the things that mattered to him, things he dreamt of doing 'after cancer'.  His greatest wish was to go away to college, I'm so sorry I wasn't able to help him do that.  I can still hear him tell me, "I just want to go to college mom.  I just really want to go away to college."

Another wish he shared with me was to travel to third world countries with a non-profit organization and work with the people there.  He wanted to give back and experience the world through others eyes.  He especially wanted to work in Asian countries.  Ian will never be able to do either of those things but I can do my best to help honor those wishes.  So, this year, for Ian's Christmas present, Eric & I will be making a donation to World Vision in Ian's name, to provide medicine for children in third world countries.  To our family and friends who would normally have given Ian a present this Christmas, we would like to encourage you to do something similar.  Pick a charity of your choosing and make a donation in Ian's name.  I can't think of a better way to honor him (and I promise to work on the 'compassion' thing).

The fog

I haven't written in a while, not because we haven't been busy, but because there have been no revelations, no light bulbs going off to enlighten me, no monumental moments.....just a fog of missing Ian.  It's pretty amazing how well you can function in a fog; you get up, you get dressed, you go to work, you even laugh at jokes and smile but the fog is still there, lingering.

I took the day off for Ian's birthday; he would have been 20.  Eric made it at work until 9:30am, then he called and said he was coming home too.  The day was harder than I thought it would be.  We took fresh flowers to Ian's grave then we met with a few of Ian's friends at one of his favorite restaurants - IHOP.  We met late (for us) at 8:30pm, ate and shared Ian stories.  Ian had some great friends and it meant a lot to us to spend the evening with them.  It was a good night.

Two days later I flew off to Colorado for a long overdue, girls weekend with my high school friends, Debbie & Kelly (we all turned 50 this year and needed to celebrate).  I kept waiting for some catastrophe to occur to ruin the weekend; my back goes out, my car breaks down on the way to the airport, our plane crashes....something....but nothing happened. We had a great weekend.  Sometimes there is nothing like old friends who know you, love you and let you be yourself.  Our first night in Breckenridge, Deb took us to her favorite restaurant and we were sitting around the table, having a good time, laughing - then it hit me - I shouldn't be laughing, I've lost Ian.  Then this small voice told me, "It's okay mom, I want you to have a good time." and it all seemed alright.   It was a great weekend and a much needed reprieve.

Yesterday, Eric, my dad and I went to Santa Barbara to make some decisions on Ian's headstone and to see his art work at the Channing Peake Gallery.  It was a very emotional day.  I wrote the woman who organized the show to thank her for such a gripping arrangement of Ian's work and this was her reply: 
"His work has garnered such praise from people who visit the exhibition, the work looks so mature and people are moved by his story. I gave him his own wall because the work was so strong that frankly it might take away from any work that was placed next to it! When I place work on walls it is often a balancing act to make sure one piece does not overshadow the other, but Ian’s is one of those compelling pieces that is so powerful it needs it’s own space; and it’s great that it is on a wall that people see first when they enter the building. They are taken by the image and then they read his story."
How wonderful that Ian's work stands on it's own merit. 

The hardest part of grieving, besides the obvious, of missing Ian, are the questions it raises.  I'm doing what I can to resolve those questions - I attend a grief bible study, Eric & I see a grief counselor, I read books on grief but it's a slow process.  The other night in my bible study we read  from Job (normally I avoid Job like the plaque); "and Job did not sin and he didn't blame God."  That has stuck with me and confused me.  Trying to marry God's sovereignty with Ian's death has been hard.....some people's definition of God's sovereignty would mean because He is in charge of everything, that He caused Ian's death and if He did, then who else is there to blame but God?  But Job didn't blame God, so he must have known something we don't.  I don't think sovereignty means 'dictator' or 'puppet master'.  I'm no biblical scholar, I'm no great mind.   I'm just a mom, trying to figure out God's role in all this loss.  Greater minds than mine have studied and poured over scripture to try and define God and it just seems to me that maybe we spend too much time trying to define Him when we should just be worshiping Him.  Maybe it just needs to come down to simple worship - not debating the 5 points of Calvinism or Free Will.  God is so much more complex than we can imagine.  The truth is usually some place in the middle and I think there are things we are not meant to or capable of understanding.  I know thinking about all this hurts my head.