Just a Few Random Thoughts

Adoring Love
I miss the adoring love of a mother. Do you know what I mean? My mother adored me. (Not in an idolatrous way. As much of a narcissist as I may be, I don’t really like being worshipped all that much. When it comes down to it, it always feels appropriately off… and rather creepy.) But the way that a mother can look at her child and love it so completely… so powerfully. I miss that. I miss the way that my mother loved me and loved the things I cared about and filled my life with.

I’ve been crying a lot about my mom while recovering from being sick these last couple of days. I miss her so much.

Blue Like Jazz
I just, in the last 24 hours, read all of Blue Like Jazz. It wasn’t the most remarkable book I have ever read, but it was good. It really made me think about some things. And I like books that make me think. And, obviously the book was good enough that I kept on going until I was done with it.

There were some experiences and feelings that he explained and articulated remarkably well. Those small segments make the entirety of the book worth reading, if you ask me. Like any other book I’ve read, I disagreed with a lot of what he said. But I found that I appreciated how simple and real he was. The book was not entirely free of religious language, as it may hope to be, but it was not dominated by it… and that was refreshing.

And… there were many moments where I caught myself actually laughing out loud… because he he was just that funny.

Politics
One of the biggest topics that the book made my mind linger upon was the whole politics thing. Oh how I hate politics.

Wow, so this section got rather lengthy. I am just going to turn it into a separate post.

>> End random thoughts… HERE <<

>> Transition into political ramblings… <<

Those Moments When it Stings the Most

For some reason, the loss of my mom always hurts just a little bit more when I get sick. Those times when you want (or in the case of serious projectile vomiting, need) someone to take care of you. Fortunately, God has blessed me with some incredible friends and I have not been alone in those moments.

For some reason, the loss of my mom always hurts just a little bit more when my relationships are strained. Those times when I just want to be reminded that I am lovable… that there is hope… when I just need someone who will be there for me. Fortunately, my friends have moms too and have shared them generously with me.

For some reason, every day, something disturbs the lingering pain and it hurts just a little bit more.

Good Friday

I don’t really have time to write much about Good Friday, but it seemed like I should at least get something in before Easter (although it is technically Sunday already).

The service on Friday was amazing.

I knew they would be wearing all black. I didn’t expect it to impact me at all. It’s just a different color. I was wrong.

They looked so plain and bare and mournful. Just like the stripped altar at the front of the room. Plain… bare… empty… lacking. I guess I never consciously thought about it, but they usually come out in white or beautiful, bright colors. I had never seen these people stand at the front of the room with no ornamentation… in simple, dull black. There was such an evident absence… such a clear lack.

I knew that they would prostrate themselves once they reached the front of the room. I honestly expected it to feel a little cheesy. I expected to be somewhat amused, whilst yelling at myself internally for being so irreverent. I was wrong.

The moment was so somber. There was no processional music, as in a normal service. They simply entered in silence as we knelt between the pews. When they fell on their faces at the front of the room, my heart turned over within me. As they lingered there in that posture, the sobriety deepened.

I wonder if…

“I wonder if two people who are ‘only children’ can get married.”

My roommate was pondering out loud tonight. Obviously, this isn’t a question of the possibility of such a match, but of the compatibility. (This was provoked by the idea of the oldest child frequently marrying the … whatever child… and the like. They always tend leave the only child out of those first-middle-last observations. Sigh… always forgotten and alone.)

Little did she know, this was something I had thought a lot about. You can be sure, however, that she soon knew of my extensive contemplations concerning the matter.

I am an only child. This random life question has a lot of potential significance for my life.

Harder to Explain… Harder to Endure

I have recently found myself in a season of grief that is much harder to explain than the ones that preceeded it.

The early months after my mother’s death, I was met with such a profound and enveloping sense of the Lord’s nearness. Though it seemed as if my life had been shattered, I was filled with joy and peace that (upon reflection) were almost (ironically) unsettling.

Outside of that time, however, the predominant feeling of the last year has been utter abandonment. I can tell myself that I have not been forsaken… but I cannot feel it as true. I can remind myself of His nearness… His inescapable presence… but I cannot detect it.

Fortunately, hope does not require happy circumstances and a general sense of well-being in the status quo as prerequisite. In fact… the hope that I now desperately grasp for would mean very little to me if I were not acutely aware of my need for something drastically different from what I am now experiencing.

I hate death

That’s really all I wanted to say for right now. I hate death. With all that is within me… I abhor, loathe, and detest death.

I guess it’s a good thing that God is doing away with it in the end, eh?

Sitting in the Snow

It’s snowing right now. And this snow is everything that snow should be… peaceful and beautiful and abundant. This snow is EXACTLY what I needed tonight.

This week has left me physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted. Work kind of sucks right now… and I hate the fact that my mother is not around for my 25th birthday (and Christmas). Once I got some alone time tonight, I spent a lot of time crying.

Eventually, I decided to go outside and watch the snow. I layered up, grabbed some socks, gloves, and a blanket, and curled up in the partially shielded corner just outside our door.

… INCREDIBLE. It was so stilling… so calming. I didn’t cry. I just rested. I just sat there… at peace… loving the Lord.

Eventually, I fell asleep. That’s how soothing the whole thing was. When I woke up, I just kept watching. Just kept resting. Just kept letting Him love me and letting Him be my comforter.

I really do love snow.

Plowed Over by the Grief Train

So… I knew I was sitting on the tracks. I knew the trains came and went at irregular times. But I didn’t see or hear the high-speed train that was coming at me today until it had completely spattered me in little bits across the tracks and the surrounding field.

Last night, I had a dream about my mom. She wasn’t in the dream, but her death was. The way in which it happened in the dream was fairly different from what happened in reality… but it really hurt.

I woke up and was painfully aware of one reality. I am so upset that I never got to say goodbye. I mean, I knew that this bothered me. Of course it did. But I didn’t realize how angry I was at the fact that I didn’t get to see her just one more time.

It was about 9:00. My alarm was supposed to be going off in about 40 minutes. I had a minute or two of transitioning from that waking-up stupor in which I was able to translate the emotions of my dream into the context of reality. I had this futile, fleeting hope that I might just fall back asleep.

And then it began… another session of squirming, gasping, sobbing, tossing, turning, clawing and writhing under the pain of it all.

And it didn’t stop.

I Miss Her So Much

It really hurts. It doesn’t stop.

I was in a car for 8 hours yesterday and cried several times in the midst of that. Today, I tried to take a nap (because I had about 4 hours of sleep) and ended up spending two thirds of that time just laying in my bed and crying.

It hurts more this week than it usually does. I don’t know why. I don’t expect that I ever will really understand it. All I know is that it is really painful.

There are some days where I think about her constantly and I feel the pain of the loss, but it isn’t crippling. Today isn’t one of those days. Today, I feel crippled.

I miss my mom. It’s still so unreal. Until Jesus comes back and EVERYTHING gets better, this is the unalterable reality that I must live in. My mother is gone.

OK… my roommate is sitting a couple of feet away from me and I am starting to well up again. Time for bed.

Remembering my Monet Trip

So… I was just thinking about my trip to Cleveland at the end of May and realizing how tremendously blessed I was on that trip.

1 – I had no money to make the trip, but was able to go. People’s generousity when it comes to things that aren’t absolute necessity amazes me. The trip was so incredibly good for my heart, but my life certainly didn’t depend upon it. Yet others freely gave to make the trip happen.

2 – My roommate let me borrow her glasses. That’s a big deal. I don’t think I could do that. (My glasses have been recently recovered, by the way. They were found by the unstopable team of Amanda Beattie and my gushy flat-head shark. Way to go,  you two!)

3 – The amazing Lauren sacrificed time and money to make the last-minute trip with me. Having that time with Lauren was actually one of the great blessings of the trip. It had been a while since we connected, so it was good to have all that time in the car to talk and such. I think that girl has to be one of the best road-trip-buddies out there.

4 – People covered my shifts and my sets. It’s not always easy to find replacements around here.

5 - I am still amazed by the fact that the exhibit was extended an extra week so that I was even able to see it. That was so crazy how it all worked out. It almost feels like God just dropped the trip in my lap. It was such a tremendous blessing. 

6 - The art was great. I thoroughly enjoyed it. And I let myself buy a few random things to remember the trip. Like my Water Lilies journal (part of the triptych that made me discover this exhibit) and my little Monet note pad. They remind me of the trip and they remind me of my mom.