The Loss of Another

There is so much heartache in this world.  Every person carries wounds, some that are obvious and many that are not.  I have started to notice this interesting phenomenon about other people's pain.  When I see someone who has experienced tragedy in their lives, whether through divorce, or death, or physical ailments or diseases, I want to peek into their lives and know all about them.  I want to know how they are coping.  I want to know about their pain.  I want to know what their life was like before and how it will be moving forward.  I think we are all like this.  This is why people like Stephanie Nielsen are so influential.  People flock to see tragedy.  And the recipient of that tragedy has the opportunity to share their stories to help lift others going through similar things and to be a message of hope and triumph to those watching.

Why do we rush to read about someone's heartache?  Is it because we are just nosy and judgmental?  I choose to believe there is a greater reason.  I choose to believe it is because we are compassionate.  When we see someone going through a great difficulty, we feel their pain.  We imagine how we would handle a similar situation.  We take their lessons and apply them into our lives.  And we gain a greater appreciation and gratitude for the blessings we enjoy.  In this way, we are helping each other.  We are learning and bettering our lives because of someone else's experiences.

Photo by Amelia Lyon

This is where my mind has been the past few days.  A close relative of my ex-husband recently experienced a horrific loss.  She and her husband lost their two and a half month old daughter to SIDS.  My heart has been grieving for them, and I have felt the weight of their loss in my own life.  Each time I look into the sweet face of my 2 year old, I feel it.  Each time my 7 year old wraps her arms around my waist in a quick hug, I feel it.  As I look through baby pictures of my girls, I feel it.  My heart is heavy.  So, so heavy.

And I am reminding myself to be a little more patient with the toddler messes.  And a little less irritated about the child who gets out of bed for one more hug.  And a little more thankful for the three beautiful children I've been blessed with in my life.  And it is for this reason that I am passing along the heartbreaking story of another.  So you readers can pray for their sweet family to feel peace and comfort during this time, and also so you can take the opportunity to evaluate your own life to find the things you take for granted.  Because someday, the moments that now overwhelm you will be fading memories.

To donate to this family for funeral expenses, please visit their donations page.

Service Through a Dress

I decided I wanted to start chronicling (ummm is that the weirdest word in the history of words?) some stories and memories about my mom.

It has been almost 4 years since she passed away, which is so crazy to me.  I haven't spoken to my mom in 4 years!  I still have her in my favorites on my phone, though her number now belongs to someone else. When she first passed away, I found myself reaching for my phone multiple times a day to call or text her, and I still can't bear to delete her information.  It's almost like that would be forgetting her or something.  Every once in a while I'll go look at her Facebook page, too, just to remind myself that there is still evidence of her, that her life hasn't completely disappeared.  It's the weirdest thing to think about her being gone.  How is it that someone is just not here anymore?  One day they are living, breathing, worrying, and the next, nothing.  I honestly don't know how people get through losing a loved one without a belief in an afterlife.

So.  Stories about my mom.  I've told this one to some people, but haven't written it down.  Here goes.

When I was a senior in high school I was really really busy.  I was in a lot of AP classes (like honors classes), I was in ASB (student government), I had a part time job (as the janitor at a dental office, now if you want to talk about glamorous...), and I was on a competitive club cheerleading team that practiced 3 times a week an hour away from my house.  I also attended early morning seminary (a class put on by my church where we studied books of scripture) that started at 5:45 AM.  That's right.  Needless to say I was exhausted pretty much all the time.  Senior Ball was coming up, and I was stressed because I had no time to go look for a dress, and in my 17 year old world that was a catastrophe.

I came home from school one day, two weeks before the dance exhausted as usual.  I walked in the front door to find formal dresses hung all over the living room.  Beautiful fabric, beautiful colors, sparkles and sequins.  As I sat there confused and looking around, my mom explained to me that she knew I was so busy and stressed, so she had gone to the mall that day to find me a dress.  She went to store after store, and looked at dress after dress, and bought 10 or 12 dresses that she thought I would like.  She brought them home and set them up for me so I could try them on and choose one.  She was like my own personal shopper, and my living room was transformed into my very own specialized dress shop.  I was so thankful that my sweet mom took time out of her own busy schedule (which certainly included things that actually mattered) to serve me and help me find a dress.  She could have easily said, "It's just a dress, it doesn't matter.  It's one dance that you will soon forget about."  Instead, she was wise enough to know that even though the dance didn't matter, I mattered.  Even though finding the right dress wasn't important, I was important.

I picked out a dress I loved from the ones she chose, and she returned the others the next day.   Though I do not remember much about that dance, I do remember the love of my sweet mother, and how I felt that love through a dress.

Laughs in Your Face

Sometimes when you think you're finally past the hardest of it, life laughs in your face.

You guys.  LIFE LAUGHS IN YOUR FACE.

Life's all like, "hahahaha!  You thought I was done with you?  When are you going to learn?  I'm taking away your Dr. Pepper next."

And we're all like, "Whoa, whoa, Life.  Chill out.  Just give me a minute to breathe."

And Life's all like, "You're an idiot."

And then we cry. And then we read posts like this and laugh.  And maybe cry some more.

Sometimes life is kind of heavy. 

And that's ok.  We are building emotional muscles.  I'm pretty much an emotional bodybuilder at this point. 

But sometimes I wish I wasn't.

Focus on the Flower

 

When I was in grad school one of my professors told us about the Lotus flower.  I have reflected on the symbolism of this flower many times, so I'm now sharing it with you.

The Lotus flower is sacred in Buddhism.  It means purity, cosmic harmony, potential, and enlightenment among other things.

But what is symbolic to me about this flower is where it comes from.  Lotus flowers grow in murky, swampy, shallow waters.  The seed emerges from the mud at the bottom of a swamp and blooms on the surface of the water.  There is the obvious symbolism that beautiful things are created from dark circumstances, and that is surely significant.  But there is another lesson in the flower.

Imagine being there.  In a swamp.  Shallow, warm, muddy.  Bugs everywhere.  A less than pleasant smell.  Hot, humid, murky as far as you can see.  And there, a Lotus flower.  Amidst the unpleasant surroundings, a beautiful flower has blossomed.  

What do we choose to focus on in our lives?  Are we so caught up in our murky circumstances that we fail to see the beautiful gift that is born from that very swamp?

Are we able to look past the swamp to appreciate the beauty of the flower? 

Without the swamp, there would be no blossom.

We all have swamps in our lives, and each swamp yields something beautiful that would not otherwise be there.  Find your Lotus blossom.  

Focus on the flower.