Life According to Gribble

Let's Walk This Journey Together

Category: Grief & Loss

group of people attending burial

Scheduling a Funeral Sucks: Let Someone Help You

October 3, 2024 / / 0 Comments

When my husband passed away, I had to make a lot of difficult decisions. One of those decisions was when to hold the funeral. We lived in Utah at the time, but we were burying him in Washington state. The most sensible timing of events was a problem though.

I worked out the schedule by days of the week. Saturday was the funeral program in Utah. Sunday we rested. Monday we would rent the U-Haul and transport his casket to Washington. (It felt weird transporting a casket with my dead husband in a U-Haul, but that is what we did.) Tuesday evening the funeral home would unload his casket. Wednesday we would hold the burial.

Sound’s reasonable right? Well, what was left of my heart in the gaping hole in my chest dropped in my stomach when I looked at the calendar. The day of the burial was my husband’s 35th birthday. I frantically rearranged the schedule to no avail. Every time I thought it I had it worked out, a bad feeling overcame me. The only plan I felt peace with was the original one.

His family was less than enthused about the schedule. They all came over to “discuss” the situation. When I finally and simply stated, “I’m not changing the date,” one of his family members stormed out of my home, slamming the front door behind them. If there’s one thing I don’t tolerate, it’s slamming doors.

I got up to give them a piece of my mind but stopped as soon as I got out the door. It would do no good to go after them. All I would accomplish is create more rifts in an already tense and difficult time. So what did I do? I balled my fists and walked back inside with a great deal of anger filling me.

They were wrong to storm out, but I realized later that I also bore some of the blame. I failed to fully explain my reasoning why I refused to change the date. I didn’t share the struggle I went through when solidifying the schedule. That burden was mine to bear, but looking back I should have been more forthcoming with my struggle.

Hindsight sucks because it doesn’t really account for the emotional and mental state of everyone in the situation. Objectivity is often clearer when looking back. I should have let them help me bear the burden of that problem. They could have asked why I chose that day. Maybe they did at one point. I don’t remember. All I do remember was both emotional and logical arguments for why the date impacted them. I could have given them the opportunity to understand, but I didn’t.

The moral of the story for me is it’s okay to share your burden when struggles come your way. Even if that sharing it just telling someone. Having an ally who understands can make a difference. Circumstances and emotions get in the way of rational thinking; however, perhaps the next time I am confronted with a difficult decision, I will confide my reasoning with those who are impacted.

woman touch rainy glass

The Many Origins of Grief

August 15, 2024 / / 0 Comments

Death is often the first thing people in general think of in relation to grief. They would be wrong. The origins of grief come from a loss of something important, not just the death of something important.

An initiative designed to normalize and destigmatize grief called Speaking Grief stated:

Grief is a set of experiences that involves the perceived loss that someone has around a person, a situation, an event, a happening, that changes the way that they physically, emotionally, spiritually, react and respond to the world around them.

So, if we’re thinking about the way that we’re taught that grief is, we’re taught that it just involves a death event, a death of a loved one. But grief actually encompasses a series of losses, and a series of change, and has to do with how we integrate that change into our day-to-day functioning.

Alesia Alexander, LCSW, Grief, Loss, and Inclusion Consultant

The Other Sources

The phrase I would like to concentrate on is, “grief actually encompasses a series of losses”. Death is not the only origin of grief. Below is a list of other sources of grief. Please know that this is not an exhaustive list.

Miscarriage

While miscarriage is a form of death, it is one not always acknowledged as an origin of grief. I have experienced two miscarriages. The first experience occurred with my first pregnancy. It happened when I was 13 weeks along, but I didn’t really grieve with that one. That might sound awful, but I also had a deep understanding of how the body is learning to create a new life. It doesn’t always succeed the first time.

It was the second miscarriage that really got me. I was maybe six weeks along. While this may be a little graphic, I saw the little embryo on the toilet paper when I wiped. The tiny forming spine was surrounded by a small, clear sack with fluid in it.

I was crushed. Seeing the embryo brought a new level of loss to me. I’ve successfully carried three other children. Why would my body reject a harmless and amazing creation? Grief appeared, front and center. I lost my job because I shut down.

Miscarriage is most certainly an origin of grief. Those who experience it understand this in a deep way.

Divorce

Divorce is essentially the death of a relationship. If children are involved, the loss is more complicated. Both my sister and best friend have gone through this process. Emotional abuse was a heavy factor in both cases. Physical abuse, financial problems, and infidelity are additional examples of why couples divorce and grief is a companion to the hardships to follow.

Major Catastrophic Event

Major catastrophic events can be both natural and of a man-made variety—think the terrorist attack on 9/11. Catastrophes cause major physical and emotional damage. They also cause damage to a person’s mental health. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) is one of the most common mental health disorders following tragic events. Losing the safety of home, the memories associated with photos and special possessions, important documents required for legal purposes, and so much more strips a person of their identity. Loss associated with major catastrophic events is a catalyst for grief to take hold.

Loss of Innocence

Not only can the loss of innocence refer to moving from one stage of life to another, but also the emotional of physical journey one could travel. Think of a road trip that ends with a broken-down car. Experiencing the need to be rescued brings a new understanding of helplessness.

Let’s look at another example. Think about a cancer survivor. They experienced the grief associated with their loss of health but are now in remission. The pain and fear associated with their battle with cancer has changed them in ways no other experience could. Their grief moves into one associated with their loss of innocence. They have the joy from beating the disease, but their worldview has changed completely.

Loss of Health

Alzheimer’s. Arthritis. Lou Gehrig’s disease. So many diseases erode the body, stealing the functions that used to come so easily. Grieving the loss of mobility to do something as simple as getting out of bed is natural. What about a person with a weakened immune system? They grieve the loss of where they can go to avoid common diseases that could be life threatening to them. Those examples are just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to loss of health.

I’m not old, but neither am I young. My joints are starting to become arthritic. Flexibility, though never amazing, is decreasing. I can’t go on a trip without my medication. Stamina is no longer strong enough to get through a conference without missing a breakout or two to rest my body and brain. Thinking is occasionally not as easy as it once was.

Loss of health happens to all of us in one way or another and grief will naturally walk as our companion when facing the loss.

Loss of the Unobtained

This grief origin is not often thought of when it comes to the subject, but it is vital all the same. Think about a couple who is infertile. It could be the woman or the man whose body will not allow the miracle of life to occur. They will both have to come to terms with something they never had. It is a loss of something that is unobtained.

Wishing to be married but unable to find their life partner. Working toward a goal that never comes. Discovering a specific talent you are working to develop is no longer possible. Navigating a career path that doesn’t lead to the right opportunities. There are so many reasons we grieve for things we don’t have.

Cindy Baldwin was one of the keynote speakers at a conference called Storymakers 2024. She has lived with cystic fibrosis for her entire life. Life is not easy. Her health is constantly difficult to navigate. I am sure just delivering a phenomenal speech in front of hundreds of conference goers was a challenge to say the least. It’s probably safe to say she grieves for a level of health she has never had.

Conclusion

Whether your grief is less extreme or life altering, you are still grieving. There is still hope to navigate your new state of being. Research more about grief and how others with a similar situation handle their grief. Support groups are a wonderful resource. The biggest takeaway is: Don’t Give Up. Small or large, you are worth the victories that come with your challenges.

black Fayorit typewriter with printer paper

A Note from Gribble: It’s About to Get More Personal

July 28, 2024 / / 0 Comments

Gribble here. My girl is embarking on a more personal journey, so I’ve added a new category in our posts! The category is “It’s Getting Personal”. I’m going to tell you the events of what she calls her “three years of hell” so you have a better understanding of the obstacles she navigated and still faces. Sympathy is not necessary or sought.

My girl’s life changed forever in 2016. The year began with a miscarriage and she lost her job due to the deep depression she experienced. Six months later, as she was just coming out of her funk, she unexpectedly lost her husband to a thrombotic embolism (a blood clot), leaving her to raise their three children (almost 12, 10, and 3) by herself.

Her uncle died one month later while she was trying to pack her house to move out of state. About a month and a half of homelessness followed while she moved her children and the cranky 10-year-old cat from one relative’s house to another. When she was finally able to procure permanent housing with her parents, she crashed down from survivor mode.

A very serious bout of clinical depression overtook her life when she exited survivor mode. Some family members discussed the need to have her admitted. They eventually decided that my girl’s children needed her presence more since their father was no longer there. I don’t know if that was what was best for the children, but that was the decision made.

Eight months after her uncle’s death, her husband’s grandmother died. A more specific diagnosis of Major Depressive Disorder (MDD) was added to her pre-existing conditions of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD), intrusive thoughts, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), and anxiety when she was able to emotionally get herself out of bed and to therapy.

Several months before the grandmother died and for two months following, my girl took care of her bedbound mother until her passing at the end of May 2017. Her mother was buried one week before her husband’s one-year anniversary.

Nine months later her cousin’s 21-year-old son died in a tragic car accident, two weeks later her daughter’s dog died, and about four months later her daughter’s 11-month-old kitten died. Her then 4-year-old was diagnosed with autism and therapy led to the discovery of my girl having Bi-Polar Disorder (BPD). She told me later that many things in her life, even prior to her husband’s death, made significantly more sense.

While she was not close to all of those who passed away, the fact that death loomed so close to home struck a nerve with each notification of loss and each step of her mental health journey.

Navigating life is tough. Please remember that this post is not meant to dredge up sympathy. It is simply meant to be informational. Her journey is changing, as is expected in life, and I feel it would be best for her to share that journey with all of you. Perhaps the growth and setbacks as she works through her grief, mental health, and spiritual travels will help someone else someday. I hope you find comfort or enlightenment in the posts.

If you choose to comment on a post, PLEASE BE KIND. Everyone deserves kindness in one aspect or another. Be that person who is kind, positive, and factual in your comments.

Now I need to get back to my place of safety before my girl’s puppy finds me. Happy reading!

man hugging his knee statue

What is Grief?

July 21, 2024 / / 0 Comments

I recently spoke at the Storymakers Conference, a writer’s conference sponsored by the Storymaker’s Guild. The class was The Reality of Grief and How it can Strengthen your Character and took a deep dive into certain aspects of grief. I was able to share a lot of great information that I feel you would find interesting as well, so I decided to do a series of posts on grief.

The first thing that needs to be established when talking about grief is to know what grief actually is. I’ve spoke before on here about my mental health diagnoses. At one point, I wondered if grief was another one we had yet to officially add to my list.

Diagnosis Disagreements

Not everyone agrees with certain mental health diagnoses. They feel they are just labels. That’s not necessarily true in my opinion, but they do have a point. Here are my thoughts on the matter.

According to the DSM-5TR (basically the bible of mental health diagnoses in the USA), grief is classified under a diagnosis of Prolonged Grief Disorder. The mental health community is not all in consensus regarding the changes made in the DSM-5 (hence the text revision version), and Prolonged Grief Disorder was one of the entries that caused disagreements.

Prolonged Grief Disorder specifically refers to death as the cause of grief. Grief doesn’t originate just from death. We’ll talk more about that in a future post. If the mental health community can’t agree on the conditions for a specific diagnosis, is the diagnosis actually applicable in the first place? Is the diagnosis just a label to add to a list of other mental health labels?

Is a Diagnosis a Label?

Labels are useful when they give you information about the subject in question. Think about a pile of flour and a pile of powdered sugar. Labels would certainly help when you are trying to bake a cake. You will know what substance you are dealing with and how to properly handle it. The same thing applies to a diagnosis. Knowing what you’re dealing with helps when seeking treatment.

When I thought about my own “list of labels”, I decided that I didn’t need to add grief to the list. I already knew I was dealing with grief, so having an official diagnosis wasn’t necessary for me. In this case, it would have been a label.

So What is Grief Then?

In my opinion, grief is a continuous state of being. There are stages to the grief process, however, those stages are not in the nice linear steps everyone thinks about.

Check out the diagram posted on a website called Speaking Grief.

Notice how the experience expected is nice and clean. It leads to an arrow pointing you out of the process and on to normal life as you knew it prior to the grief event. That is not the way it works.

On the right side of the diagram you see grief is a messy and sporadic process that never ends. No arrow points the way out. You may spend years in the acceptance stage only to suddenly move to the depression or anger sections of the experience for no rhyme or reason.

Grief is a state of being that affects everyone in a different but similar way. I’ve been dealing my major grief for 8 years now. Others have been through the process for much longer, but the experience remains a new state of being. A phoenix living its life to burn and rise again.

orange white and black butterfly on green leaf
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Butterfly vs Phoenix – What’s the Most Accurate Symbol for Grief?

July 6, 2024 / / 0 Comments

After my husband passed away, I went looking for support groups to help for coping with grief. Everywhere I turned I found the image of a butterfly. It was almost like the universal symbol of getting over a tragedy, and that bothered me.

I have always loved the butterfly (Gribble is a caterpillar after all). The butterfly is a beautiful symbol with a beautiful message. Unfortunately, the butterfly metaphor is simply too froo-froo for real life loss and tragedy. No, my froo-froo comment is not meant to hurt any creatures’ feelings, insect or otherwise.

The Phoenix

I prefer to think of the phoenix when it comes to this journey through tragedy and loss. The phoenix simply lives its life until one day flames burst from within to consume it completely. From its ashes rises an ugly little hatchling. But that hatchling will learn and grow and one day become an awe-inspiring phoenix again. 

Just like the phoenix, we too experience a fire that consumes us until we are nothing but a pile of useless and messy ash. The pain of loss isn’t something you can truly prepare for. Even those who know the end is coming still can’t fully prepare for the shock of that final goodbye—walking away from the empty, puppet-like body that first time.

The shock is like a lightning strike. We are instantly consumed by the burning fire of every nerve in our body prickling everywhere at once. Peacefully sleep in a safe cocoon while the flames lick at our souls with searing heat doesn’t work. We are forced to stand there in pain and suffer through every agonizing moment. The funeral, telling the rest of the family, wills, finances, living arrangements, etc. slap the bereaved in the face. When the burning eventually dies down, we are left in a very vulnerable state.

The Hard Work of a New Life

Nothing but the hard work of restarting our lives again exists. Well, except without the heart that was ripped from our chest like that unfortunate sacrificial slave in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. We don’t get to emerge with beautiful wings and fly off to peacefully live out the rest of our lives. Free to fly around, taunting innocent children holding silly nets.

We are left as a hatchling that doesn’t know what to do. How do you sweep up the messy ashes of our new beginning? If you’ve ever had to sweep up ashes in a fireplace, you will know that it takes a lot more than a broom and dustpan to clean up the mess. It’s a long drawn out process that gets everywhere before the world is set as close to right as possible.

Through that process, we have the opportunity to become as beautiful as the firebird we were with bold, vivid colors. The butterfly doesn’t pass through the heart wrenching pain of tragedy and loss. We are a phoenix whose end is as fiery and challenging as its beginning.

Gribble’s Perspective

Now you are probably wondering why Gribble, our friendly caterpillar, supports this distinction. We discussed the delicate topic at length before he explained his perspective beautifully saying:

“The Phoenix can have all the glory as a symbol of grief. My kind seek to inspire an innocent, loving hope for the future. At some point, those who are marred by the fiery scars of great loss will grow enough and heal enough and be confident enough to emerge from that moment of grief. They will finally be strong enough to show the world their flying colors. But grief never fully resolves. There are always moments when their inner phoenix flares up. It is at those moments when my fellow Lepidoptera and I will be right there with a fresh bottle of Aloe for our friend.”

Image Credit: Pexels

Image from Lindsey Stirling's Take Flight music video, girl standing on edge of building with boat on clouds in front of her

Metaphors and Me (Part 2)

March 4, 2020 / / 0 Comments
Image from Lindsey Stirling's Take Flight music video, girl standing on edge of building with boat on clouds in front of her

Last week I discussed my own frame of mind and my moment of clarity:

To create a house of order,
I must first wade through the chaos that is my life.

It’s a tall order, but I had another moment of clarity that is helping me put the pieces together.

While writing one day, I was listening to music through YouTube when the song “Take Flight” by Lindsey Stirling came on. I stopped writing to watch the video, which I have seen multiple times. Suddenly had a different understanding of the song’s meaning. I also realized the applicability of its message in my life.

The way to move from my life of chaos to order is all about trust and imagination. Trust myself and not bury the talents given by my Father in Heaven. Here’s the thing with talents. I know I have talents, but they always seemed more like attributes of my personality than talents. My imagination, for example, is not just an attribute. It’s a talent I didn’t recognize. I need to let myself “take flight” with my imagination and not in a tornado to Oz. The task I have now set before me requires planning.

First, I need to figure out how to identify the part of my imagination I need to free. I turned to my children to help me answer that. I asked them what talent I would showcase if I were in a talent show. What did they say? They wisely stated that my talents lie elsewhere. I wouldn’t be in the talent show – I would be organizing it. That got me to thinking. If I can co-chair a first-time free writer’s conference with over 100 attendees, I can organize a way out of the sticky syrup lake with popcorn kernel shores of my life (one of my youngest’s more notorious self-made “sandboxes”, but I digress).

Understanding of the internal workings of my being is beginning to find firmer footing. It’s not an easy thing to face. I have pieces of myself that conflict with my desire to move forward and grow as I explained in the previous post. That internal struggle is real, and I know I’m not alone in it.

The question is how to get past the struggle. Medication has helped me immensely. Therapy has helped me immensely. Doing my best to just go with the flow has helped me immensely. (Recap: Drugs, professional help, and play it cool) Giving myself permission to move forward and finding the positive in each situation is vital and ongoing. (Recap: Keep swimming and the glass is half full)

It is beyond hard to find the positive in every situation. For example, when my mother died almost one year after my husband, it was a relief in some ways. She had been ill and bed-bound for a very long time. I had the privilege of helping her each day while my dad was working on location hours away and unable to come home every night. Don’t get me wrong, it was hard. Any caregiver will attest to how difficult it is to care for someone who is unable to perform basic activities of daily living on their own. Her death finally occurred when she developed necrosis following a leg amputation and it became time to discontinue dialysis.

So what was the positive? While it was hard to no longer sit and talk with my mom, while she is no longer reachable to share her maternal comfort with me, it was a relief to no longer have the responsibility that comes with caregiving. Does that make me selfish? No. Do I feel guilty about feeling that way? Most would say yes, but I don’t. She is so much happier and free without her broken body. I’m sure she looks forward to her resurrected body when the time comes, but for now she is free to do other things. She is able to be productive and “do for herself” on the other side. That right there is the positive. Her quality of life is no longer in the negative.

Now I need to figure out where this all leaves me. I have a talent in organizing events and processes. So why not organize a business and get myself back into the workforce in a way that will be productive for myself and others?

The last time I underwent the adventure of starting a business, I did everything wrong and learned a great deal. Now I’m taking my time to figure out what kind of business will be best for me and utilize my talents effectively. I have already done a great deal of research and have a whole lot more to fish through before I make a final decision on what that business will entail and how I will organize it. I know it will be a great journey full of more metaphors.

At this point I need to give a big thank you to Brave Enough” to “Take Flight” and see wherever this journey will lead me.

Powdered Donuts

Depression and Donuts

March 3, 2020 / / 0 Comments

Do you ever get those days when you can’t seem to make yourself get out of bed? Days when you just can’t handle anything except the bathroom and powdered donuts? That is me as I write this. Today is a day of grief. I miss my husband more than I can say today. It is a day of depression, and depression for me is beyond debilitating. The fact that I got all of my children out the door to school with clean clothes and that I’m actually at the computer writing this post is just about a miracle.

I’m not the only one who has these days, of this I know. My emotions are overwhelming and MIA all at the same time. A great contradiction, but such days are generally contradicting for me. What triggers the emotions and thoughts of despair and longing? Only those in the moment can answer that question. Coming from experience, sometimes not even they can answer it. So how do you deal with it? How do you move forward out of the murky swamps of uselessness? How do you make yourself get up and do what you need to do? How do you write a post like this without switching point of view multiple times in the same paragraph?

I’ve known many people who tell me to just get up and do whatever it is I am supposed to be getting done. While I love them with all my heart, they have never been where I am. I get to the point where I know what I need to do. My mind tells me to get up and do it. Sometimes I even feel the desire to get up and do it, but my body doesn’t respond. Instead, I lay in bed feeling like a loser, wishing I could be done with this journey and join my husband.

*** I’m going to stop and say at this point that I will NOT harm myself to join my husband. Wishing during moments of despair and doing are two entirely different things. ***

The truth of the matter is: There will always be deep down days like this for me. I know the signs and I take medicine to help keep those days to a minimum. Please don’t think that this post is about gaining sympathy. It is not. It’s about validating others’ who experience the same issues.

So what is the take-home message today? You are not alone. No matter how dark it gets, you are still not alone. I am here waiting for the darkness to pass just like many others, writing this post, and consuming my pilfered powdered donuts.

island near tornado

Metaphors and Me

February 27, 2020 / / 0 Comments

My husband’s death broke me in a way I never thought possible. It was a pinnacle of major life-changing events, though not the last I will ever experience. The thing is, every time I get a major life-changer, I am first confronted with a great turmoil. A moment of hope emerges from the chaos. I feel the call for better, greater things. Future goals become clear and all seems bright. Then a sudden storm pulls the Earth out from under my feet, smacks me in the face with a flying wall, and gives me not a single moment to stop for tea with Dorothy.

My world rolls forward around me. My motivation disappears, I switch gears to adjust, and then I find I am going nowhere. There is a time and a place for changing tracks. My life just seems full of endless change points and when it seems like I’m on my way, the light at the end of the tunnel turns out to be a train.

What is holding me back? (Maybe all the metaphors are making the situation more complicated than necessary.) The one of the biggest problems in my way is my mental health. Too many people are scared to open up about something as personal as mental health. Fear of judgement is very real regardless of how much others may think a situation shouldn’t be feared. I’ll tackle that issue in another post…eventually.

It’s too important to go unsaid, so here I am about to bare my mental/emotional issues and display them for all to see. The fact is I am constantly fighting against myself for control over my life. What does that mean? In some ways, I see my mental health disorders as separate metaphorical people inside of me. (Yes, I am going to unleash a whole new set of metaphors.)

These metaphorical people in me have different needs. OCD-me craves order and completion. Bi-Polar/Manic-me wants to live life to the fullest and do everything all at once. Bi-Polar/Depressive-me is stuck in a place of crushing defeat. PTSD-me is overwhelmed by intermittent triggers that send me to the point of paralyzing panic. Anxiety-me cannot banish the fear and apprehension of so many potential outcomes of my present and future actions. I have been told my intrusive thoughts are part of OCD-me but whenever I try to explain it myself, I become confused again. Maybe the intrusive thoughts are simply the Mini-Me of OCD-me. Okay that’s a stretch even for…me.

Then there is just plain Me who is trying to get everyone to play nice. They are constantly bickering and it’s a massive challenge to feel as though I am not going crazy with the push and pull of each piece. In fact, I am completely uncomfortable with myself. Where do I go from here? How do I cope? How can I move forward with so much going on in my head?

I was reading a book about entrepreneurship called Mad Genius by Randy Gage when a thought struck me. He stated, “Chaos creates order and order then builds on itself.” Then my mind jumped to another great quote, “A house of order is a house of God.” Bring it together and I suddenly experienced moment of clarity. Maybe everyone else has come to this conclusion, but I’m sometimes a little slow to the game. And what was this epiphany?

To create a house of order,
I must first wade through the chaos that is my life.

Easier said than done, but necessary all the same. Now the question is: How do I do that when I am already overwhelmed?

That’s an discussion I’ll explain in part 2 of this post series next week as this post is already getting long. (I also hate cliffhangers, but alas, they are sometime necessary.)

Why is this happening to me?

June 28, 2018 / / 0 Comments

I have had to turn to my faith more than a few times these past two years. It is by no means uncommon for us, as survivors, to have a crisis of faith. We face a little one-word question that puts us to the ultimate test of faith. Why? Why did they have to die? Why am I still here? Why did they leave me? Why don’t they get the chance at a full life?

The short answer is a simple and frustrating, “I don’t know.” The longer more specific answer relates to the story of Joseph in Egypt. Below is a brief (I promise this actually is brief compared to the full version found in the Bible) synopsis of the story.

Joseph was the youngest and most favored son of his father, Jacob. His older brothers were overwhelmingly jealous of the favor their father showed Joseph. They decided one day, when their jealous anger rose to a peak, they would to kill him. Before they murdered their brother, they saw a caravan of merchantmen traveling to Egypt. Why kill their brother when they could gain a profit by selling him as slave?

Once the caravan reached Egypt, Joseph was then sold to a man named Potiphar, a captain of the guard to Pharaoh. Joseph worked hard and became Potiphar’s right hand man until Potiphar’s wife decided she wanted more from Joseph than he was willing to give. The wife grabbed Joseph’s coat when he literally ran from the house. Joseph shrugged it off and kept running. Of course the wife, having been rejected, decided to cry to her husband saying Joseph made advances toward her. Her proof was Joseph’s coat in her hands. Potiphar believed his wife and sent Joseph to prison.

While in prison, Joseph was yet again blessed for his work ethic and given the duty to oversee the prisoners in his ward. About this time, Pharaoh became angry at his chief butler and his chief baker. They were both placed in Joseph’s ward and experienced odd dreams on the same night. Joseph interpreted both dreams saying in three days the butler would be restored to his former position and the baker would be executed. True to Joseph’s interpretation, the butler was restored and the baker was significantly less fortunate.

Two years later, it was Pharaoh’s turn in the disturbing dreams department of dreamland. No one could interpret Pharaoh’s dreams. The butler spoke up and told Pharaoh about his experience with Joseph.

Pharaoh called for Joseph and demanded an interpretation of his dreams. Joseph explained that Pharaoh’s dreams were a warning. Though the next seven years would be plentiful, a great famine would strike all the lands of the Earth the following seven years. Joseph then suggested Pharaoh invest in a pretty comprehensive food storage program. Impressed, Pharaoh told him it was now Joseph’s job to create and oversee the aforementioned investment program…and have power over just about everything else except the throne.

The famine came as predicted seven years later and guess who made an appearance in Egypt two years into the famine? Yep, Joseph’s brothers. They didn’t realize who Joseph was at first, but don’t you worry, his brothers were graced with a pretty serious “Oh #&%@” moment.

Joseph could have done anything to them and no one would have faulted him; however, he chose a different path. He didn’t take them as his servants. He didn’t make them experience the sudden death round of the “how shall we play with brother today” game. He was happy to see his brothers. Joseph rejoiced! He told them not to be angry with themselves for selling him, because God sent him there to save many lives, including theirs.

This is where we bring ourselves back to the present. Whether you believe in God or not, bad things happen. It is an unfortunate fact of life we cannot escape. Joseph gained some understanding of why he was sent to Egypt when his brother’s showed up to purchase food, twenty-two years after they sold him to the caravan of merchantmen.

Just as Joseph lived in slavery and prison for so long, we also find ourselves in horrific places after the trauma of losing our loved ones. I won’t lie to you. Grief shows no mercy to anyone, and patience plainly sucks. Faith is all that will sustain us.

I still don’t have any specific answers why BJ had to die 11 days before his 35th birthday. All I have are speculations at this point. I take great comfort knowing that some day I will have the answers. It may or may not be in this lifetime, but I have faith the answers will come. You will also have the answers at some point. Don’t rush that moment. The Lord left us here for a reason. Looking too hard for answers we are ready or able to receive will only bring frustration and unhappiness. All we can do is take everything one day, one task, one moment at a time until we receive those answers.

Please remember you are far from alone in your journey. Faith, with all the other emotions we have swirling around our psyche, is not easy. Our goal should be to seek others who also struggle. Together we can help each other move forward in a positive and productive way.

You are loved more than you know!

Handcart Lessons

June 18, 2018 / / 1 Comment

Around March 2018, I was barely able to keep my head above the watery chaos of depression. My husband had suddenly passed away about a year and a half prior. My children were the only ones keeping me from letting myself go. They already lost their father. They needed their mother – not that I was much of a mother at the time. Granted, I was much better than I was the year prior, but I’ll go into the crippling effects of depression another time.

I thought back to an experience my nephew shared the prior year when he came home from a church sponsored event called Trek. Every few years my church organizes a pioneer journey for youth ages 12 through 18. The journey reenacts the pioneer experience during their trek west. Everyone dresses in pioneer garb. Youth are broken up into “families” with at least four children and one couple from the congregation serving as “Ma” and “Pa”. The youth pull loaded handcarts over 20 miles of difficult terrain in a three-day period.

My nephew told me about an experience that had surprising effect on me. The final hill is always given to the ladies since many pioneer men didn’t make it to their destinations. That left the women to bear the burden of finishing the journey.

Every young man was sent to the top of the hill.  The young men were told they were not allowed to help the young women. They could only silently watch. My nephew said it was a powerfully emotional experience to watch the young women struggle up the steep hill. Being unable to help was like torture.

When the first handcart finally reached the top of the steep hill and crossed the line marking the end of their trek, the young women ran back to the hill. The girls were exhausted, but they couldn’t bear to let their sisters continue to struggle on their own. One by one each handcart finally reached the top of the hill.

There were no shouts of joyous accomplishment and applause when the last handcart made it to the end. No one shrugged their shoulders and asked when they could get their phones back. The young women hugged each other with love, grateful to have made it to the top. They were proud of their accomplishments on that journey, but humbled by the sheer determination it took.

Every young man stood with their hat reverently held in their hands. Some freely shed tears…I mean got sand in their eyes. They were emotionally hurt, proud of their sisters, and distressed in their limited role of watching; however, they felt the Holy Spirit testify of the greatness of the pioneer’s tragically earned achievements. I thought a great deal about that story for a long time.

My unexpected lesson hit me this past March. I was trying so hard to get my own handcart over rough terrain and my dear husband’s spirit was forced to watch, unable to help. What kind of special hell is that? And I was the one making that hell even more bitter. It certainly wasn’t on purpose, but it was true all the same. I had eyes on my husband for so long and didn’t see what I should have.

Everyone handles tragedy in different ways. The death of my husband just about broke me, but I decided I couldn’t cause him and my children any more pain than they already had to endure. I somehow found a way to pull myself back to the land of the living. It wasn’t an overnight change. A great deal of heartache, prayer, hard work, and tears went into the process of moving on.

Unfortunately, the process never truly ends. Good days and bad days still trade off custody. What matters is keeping my eye on the goal. Continuing to progress to the best of my ability. Some days it is all I can do to keep the handcart from slipping backward. Other days I make good headway. It’s a matter of not giving up.

I have learned we all need to keep our eye on the top of the hill. Every step gets us a little closer. Celebrate those small steps because they add up quickly. The strength we discover when we reach the top of the hill will be a powerful testimony of our love for those who can only watch.

Be kind to yourself and know that you are loved!

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