Ambused

Lovely picture of Todd and I when we were dating. And yes, his hat was too small for me, which means I have a really big head, Todd wore a 7 3/8 hat size and that's too small for me!  Love our glasses.  (I couldn't think of a picture of an ambush, so I thought I'd post an old one of us instead.  It really has nothing to do with this blog.)

Ambush- noun- 1. an act or instance of attacking unexpectedly from a concealed position.

    A noun is a person, place or thing, or idea, so in the case of the word ambush, it's a thing.  In the last 10 months I've been experiencing it, but until tonight I didn't have a name for it.  So let me explain.

    It's called an ambush of grief.  I find myself going along doing quite well, when all of a sudden something hits you, a song, a smell, a picture, and you're hit in the gut with grief.  I got ambushed last night.  No one else knew (I don't think anyway), they probably just thought I was being touched by God in some way, as the tears ran down my face.

   I was sitting at a Concert at a church up the street and listening to a Gospel group called Three Bridges. (By the way they are really good!)  Well, Three Bridges had gotten wind of the fact that the pastor of that church and his family sang together, so they asked them to do a song.  They sang a wonderful song called "I Get To." (I think that was the name anyway), but then I got ambushed.  It wasn't even the song, it was just hearing this husband and wife and son sing together.  I began to weep, for Todd and I use to sing together a lot (never could talk the kids into singing with us though).  I sat there listening to them sing, knowing here is another loss for me.  Yes, I have realized it before this, especially when I've song a couple of the songs that Todd and I use to do together this summer, and realized I can't sing them in the same key anymore, cause Todd always sang melody, and his voice was much higher than mine, so now, I'm dropping the key down to adjust to my voice.  But there's no more harmony for me on those songs, I'm singing solo now, in more ways than one.   

    There's no warning to an ambushment.  If you knew it was coming you wouldn't be ambushed.  This isn't the first time I've been an ambushed by grief in the last 10 months, and I'm sure it won't be the last.  It always hits when you don't expect it, of course that's why it's called an ambush.

    There's other times when it's finding something he wrote, or seeing a picture of him I'd forgotten about.  Bamm!  I get hit!  There's those times when I've seen someone that we haven't seen for a long time, and I have this thought I can't wait to tell Todd that I saw them, and then realize I can't, he's not here.  

    Although I know I'll probably get ambushed again, I'm also confident in this: …"I do not have to be afraid, for He has ransomed me. He has called me by name, and I am his.  When I go through the deep waters, He will be with me. When I go through rivers of difficulty, I will not drown. When I walk through the fire of oppression, I will not be burned up, the flames will not consume me." (Isaiah 43:1-2- my Paraphrase)  

  God has proven himself to me over and over again. He is still with me, even when I'm ambushed and taken by surprise, he walks with me through it.   

The Locket (A short story)

THE LOCKET

(The following is a short fiction story I wrote, loosely based on Todd's and my life.)

    She could hardly wait, to get the package open, but she restrained herself and carefully removed the Christmas wrapping paper.  The box was small, and her heart was racing, thinking of all the special things that come in small packages.  When the last bit of paper was removed, she slowly opened the box, hoping to find that diamond ring, and maybe a marriage proposal, but as the lid came off, she found a small gold book-shaped locket, on a golden chain.  Her heart sank, but she lifted her head, and smiled at the giver.

   "Open it up," he said, with anticipation in his voice.  She opened the small little book, and found carefully put in each side of the locket, two pictures; one of her, and one of him.  "Oh how sweet!" she exclaimed, and this time really meaning it.  She thought of how much work he must have done, searching for just the right picture and then carefully putting it into this tiny book.  He'd never been one for expensive gifts, so she knew the thought into this one was great.  "I love it," she proclaimed, and really meaning it, as tears began to form in the corner of her eyes.

   "I was hoping you would, " he shyly said, "Cause right now there's a picture of us each individually, but I hope that someday, there will be a picture of us together, you in a pretty white dress and me in a suit."  He was nervously reaching into his pocket and pulling out a smaller box, and as he held it in his shaking hand, he dropped to his knees and continued, "You see, our lives are separate now, and the story is just beginning, but I'd was wondering if you'd like to continue to write the story of our lives together forever."  He opened the small box, and enclosed, was the diamond ring she had so hoped for.  It was small, but sparkled with just as much dazzle as a one carat diamond.  

   With tears in her eyes, she said, "Yes, I want to write my life story with you, we'll be together till we're old and gray, and the pages in our book is full of our life together.  Yes, yes, yes!!"  She flung herself into his arms and they both hugged and cried, knowing there was soon to be a new story written of their lives together.

    Six months later, she came down the aisle at the church in that long white dress, and he looked so handsome in that white tuxedo, although maybe a little bit uncomfortable.  Today they would write the first page of their story together, it was filled with laughter and tears of joy.  They knew this was going to be a best seller.

    On their first month anniversary, he presented her with a tiny little picture to put in the locket,  no longer two separate pictues, but one.  They both smiled as they put the wedding picture in the locket and he hung it around her neck again.  They were one, the story was getting so good.

    Each year on their anniversary, she tried to make sure they took a picture of them together.  She'd place it across from the wedding picture in the other little 'frame' in the locket.  When the children began coming, she'd replace it every year with a family picture.  The story was growing, and sometimes the pages were stained with peanut butter and jelly finger prints.  It really didn't matter, cause the finger prints could be washed off, but they really just made the story stick together all the more.  Before they knew it, the kids had left home and now the yearly picture was just the two of them together again, but they were still young and had lots more story to write in this book together.

   Neither of them planned it, nor did they expect it to happen, but tragedy struck.  Their story cut short and when the anniversary came, instead of their yearly picture, she sat weeping by a casket. The locket hung around her neck, with last years anniversary picture in it, and of course their long faded wedding picture.   Their story was over, but the love never ends, always remember by her and her little golden book-shaped locket.

What I've learned from my kids

(Kristi and Philip ready for take off at the Oympic Training Center)

   All though life, we're learning, education doesn't stop at a high school graduation, it's actually just beginning.  Sometimes, I've been surprised who I've learned from and what I've learned from them.  My children for one, are ones I've learned a lot from.  Even when they were small children, I remember learning lessons in patience, perseverance, prayer, unconditional love and consistency.  As they've grown older, I feel I've continued to learn from them, as I hope they still learn from me too.

   As my children have stepped into adulthood, I've been amazed at how God has worked in their lives and the things they've learned and have in turn shared with me.  It was while in Colorado this past month, that Philip shared something with me that so blessed me, and I've learned so much from it.

   We were talking about the times in our lives when we feel we've failed, that Philip made this awesome statement. "There's really only winning and learning in life.  If you've failed, it just means you never learned from your mistakes.  If you've learned from the mistakes, then it's not a failure, you've grown."  The more I thought on that, the more I liked it and believe it is true.    We all make mistakes, if we didn't we wouldn't be human.  There was only one perfect man and his name was Jesus.  The rest of us are VERY human and make mistakes consistantly, but that doesn't mean we're failures.  Like Philip said we can learn from those mistakes and turn a failure into a learning situation and gain from it, making it a win.

   Kristi and I were discussing this on the way to a wedding this past weekend in South Dakota.  I asked her, in light of what Philip said, what have you learned in all that we went through in the past couple of years. (Not that it was a failure or a mistake, just a VERY hard time.)  She said, "I learned, we can do anything."  I asked, "How or why do you come to that conlusion?"  Kristi replied, "If we can survive Dad's dementia, and all we went through, there isn't anything we can't do."  Wow! What an attitude!  In a situation that could make a lot of kids bitter and angry, she's using it as a spring board, to knowing God can get us through anything. 

    I learned from my kids, what the Bible has said for a very long time; "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." Phil 4:13

Memories in a Box

 I was walking through my very messy garage tonight, wondering how in the world the mess happened, as it use to be so neat and clean, when I glanced up to the shelves where I have storage tubs of various things, such as Christmas decorations, etc.  It was the tub labeled "Memories" that caught my eye.  How do I put memories in a box?  Do they belong in a box?  Is that the only place for memories?  Is it good to keep memories?  Ok, now you're wondering how I got all that just from looking at a storage tub?  Me too!

    I know if I opened up that tub (and I think there are a couple with that label) I would be flooded with memories. Those things all have an attachment of some sort that meant something in my life, or the life of my kids or Todd.  What they really are, are land marks of defining moments in my life.  They represent something in my life of significance that I wanted for some reason to remember.  We all have them of some sort.  I'm a great keeper of those kind of things, ok, some people just call me a sentimental pack rat, that's probably true too, but sometimes it's so fun to go back and remember those things.  Especially the good things  but then again, I don't usually keep something that reminds me of a bad memory.  

    I know in one of those tubs is a coloring book from when I was about 5 years old.  I've kept it all these years, because there's a picture colored by my friend Joanie who lost her life when she was about 6 years old when she drown in the Missouri river. Yes, it's a sad memory, but it's also a good memory, for Joanie was my best friend at that time.  I know I have things like some trophies I won (those are pretty few), and music I wrote as a kid, even a few programs from a concert or two that I sang in.  There's pictures my kids drew when they were little, and a few love letters from Todd.

    God told Israel many times to set up a landmark or memorial, for them to remember what God had just done for them, this is quite similar to keeping a small memento of a precious memory.   So I guess I do have memories in a box, and I think it's good.  Sometimes we remember all those good things that God has done in our lives and it lifts us back up to faith that He has good things in the future for us too.

    I also have memories on my walls, in the form of photos and orginial paintings. Even the few prints I have are ones from people I know personally or had great significance into why we purchased it.  (Such as my three G Harvey prints purchased through Focus on the Family)

    I also have a few things that I hold on to, that remind me of promises that God has given me.  They don't mean anything to anyone else but me, but they're things I've been holding on to for a long time, and I know God is faithful, and someday, I will see that promise completely fulfilled in my life, but until that day comes, I have a reminder that God said that to me.

    As for the mess in my garage,  some stuff is left from the garage sale, and some left from Philip coming home from college. As for what to do with it, I'm not sure. sigh... Some day the "I got to reclaim my garage space lion" will arrive, and things will find a home somewhere, you'll probably hear me roaring.