Words

I've been thinking a lot lately about words.  How words can change things. How words can affect others. How words are powerful.  Our words are more powerful than we realize.

Words can tear people down or build them up. And our choices mean everything.

I really try to be careful with my words. I try to build others up every chance I get.  I try to leave others better than I found them.  Sometimes I fail at that, but most of the time I'm successful.  At least I hope I am. People tell me I'm gifted with writing.  They say I'm gifted with words.

It has taken me forever to honor my gifts.  I didn't always believe the truth.  There's been many people in my life that spent a lot of time destroying my self esteem.  They wrote on the slate of who I was changing who I was meant to be.

Thankfully, I have had a lot of people in my life who spent a lot of time trying to build me back up.  They saw something I didn't see.  They saw the truth.  Not only did they believe in me, but they loved me when I didn't even love myself.

I don't know what it is.  Maybe it's suddenly losing my dear friend, Betsy. Maybe it's the place Jake & I are in lately, which has not without it's challenges.  Maybe it's looking back & wishing that I would have used my time more wisely with those who, for whatever reason, are no longer a part of my life.

I am not perfect.  No one is.  I make mistakes.  I say wrong things. I go over conversations in my head, time & again, wishing I had a do-over; however, I also try to be careful with my words.  I try to be kind.  I try to build others up.  Encourage them. And I pray that, more often than not, my words have left others better than when I found them, even if the place I found them was great.

Lent: Pushing Through

Today, Betsy would have been 52.  I spent most of the day thinking of her.  And wondering if I should go the Ash Wednesday services at Cedar Ridge.  It still baffles me that she's gone & I just can't imagine the service without her.  After all, she was the one who creatively planned the services for what seems like forever.

Turns out, because of pain, I didn't go. Oh, how I wish I would have. I keep mulling over the past few weeks in  my head, still finding it hard to believe that she's gone now.  Yet, there is an undeniable presence of her at church.  How can there not be? After all, she poured out her heart and soul there for years.

I've also been wondering what to do for Lent.  So I give up something or add something? I have decided that for Lent, I need to write more, especially on here.  For far too long, I have gotten away from blogging. And I secretly regret it.

I think of all the moments I have missed.  All the late nights spent not asleep writing stuff that no one will ever read. And I can't even begin to tell you how many times I would start to write a post in my head, but never push through that feeling of vulnerability of being exposed on this very public blog to actually post something.

So, hear I go. Plunging back in. On purpose.  Pushing through all the uncomfortable spots for an important cause, as a friend often reminds me.  Oh, how I'm so grateful for her ever present gentle encouragement, often when I need it the most.

The truth is I've been doing some private writing, which has been therapeutic. And hard.  There have been many times where I have wondered why I keep pursuing a process that is so difficult.  Why is it that I want to work through stuff that I have crammed down for so long?

And yes, there have been many times where I want quit.  I've wanted to just stop dredging up the tough stuff that I've long since buried.  Still, time & again, I continue to plunge in, no matter how deep the waters get.

I wish I could say that these weeks have been easy.  They haven't.  I wish I could say that Jake & I have not struggled. We have. I wish that I could say that giving a voice to my thoughts and feelings came flowing out of me without much effort. It hasn't.

So here I go. I'm all in, whether I like it or not.. After all, I am fighting for an important cause. I'm fighting for me. And that's the most important cause of all.

Dear Betsy: Four Days Gone

"To laugh often and much; To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others; To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded."

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson,
American essayist, lecturer, and poet,

(1803-1803)

*Photo Credit: Facebook

In Loving Memory of
Betsy Mitchell Henning

Dearest Betsy,

It's only been four days. Four days since you've been gone.  Four days since the planet cracked open leaving a gaping whole in my heart.  This seems surreal. I'm still shocked.  Still devastated.  Still absolutely heartbroken.  

And I'm not the only one.  There is a whole community grieving. In fact, anyone that ever loved you is missing you right at this very moment.  Anyone that ever had the privileged of being loved by you is feeling a void right now... a void that you once filled.

By your own words, you're a "knitter, writer, cook, designer, parent, wife, puppeteer, leader, teacher, extrovert, liturgist, crank" who lived life as a "suburban Bohemian." 

To me, you were a life-loving, deep thinking, pink hair donning, non-judgmental Christian who lived life free of the box that other's tend to be confined in.  You were a a free spirit whom creativity just poured out of. You were real. You were authentic.

You were my friend. And I loved you.

I will miss our deep conversations about life, love & God.  I will miss your quirky sense of humor, your laughter, your smile & ever-present authentic hugs that were filled with unconditional love. I will miss the way you lit up a room just by being in it. Oh, how I'll miss your light & how bright it shined.

I keep thinking of Eric & Ian, who just turned eight.  I can only imagine how they are feeling right now. I think of how they have to find a new normal.  How they must go on, without you.  Still, it seems surreal.

And, truthfully, I'm struggling with making sense of how a little boy is without his mom. Or a husband is without the wife that he has loved so much for so long.

Then I think of how both Eric & Ian are so dearly loved by many, including by the God who loves us so much more than we even realize.  And how His timing is perfect, whether we agree with it or not.

Yes, there are some things that we are not meant to understand on this side of heaven.

For now, I give thanks. For you.  For your life. For your friendship. For your love.  Oh, how it was a privileged to be loved by you.

Ah, yes... your love.  Because of the love that poured out of you in every way, you will live on.  You will not be forgotten.  You have left this world better than you found it, simply because you lived & loved freely.

Yes, we will carry you with us in our hearts always.  And your light & your love will live on forever.

Forever in my heart,

Sayings Sunday: As If

"Every day should be passed as if it were to be our last."

~ Publilius Syrus,

Writer of maxims, flourished in the 1st century BC

Thoughts on Christmas Morning

As I sit here and type this now, it is nearly 5 AM on Christmas morning & I haven't slept yet.  I wish I could say that I spent hours dreaming of sugar plums dancing in my head or some storybook clichè that make things appear to be more than perfect.

For hours, I've been writing a letter to a friend.  It's a letter that she'll never get bc I never actually wrote it out... it's just words that remained trapped in my head that I may or may not remember later due to simply my exhaustion.  And honestly, I want her to be focused on her family this Christmas morning & not so much me.

Here's the simple truth: things have been anything but perfect in my life lately, but isn't that the truth of anybody's life?

For moths now, I have engaged in a process of therapeutic writing.  This has been difficult &, at times, torture when the words would not come; however, there has been true healing through this process.  And although I have not shared my writings with many others, I have had a lot of love, support & prayers along the way.  Slowly, through writing, tears, many emails, love & prayers, I'm finding my voice again & truly healing...

But it's Christmas morning & I haven't slept.  I don't know what it is abt this year, but this holiday season is tough.  I seem to be missing people a little more, both people gone & still here.  I miss dad a lot. And Christmas Eve is just not the same without him.  And I just miss others too, too many to mention.

This year has just been tough... For both of us.  Jake & I have struggled in every way imaginable.  We hold out hope that the coming year will be better for us, in every way.

Yes, for now, we count our blessings.  And hope.  A hope we have bc long ago, in a little town, a child was born.

 Merry Christmas, My Friends. May you filled with many blessings, happiness & joy.

Reclaiming My Voice

Somewhere between here & there, I lost my words... and time just... well, went on.  So many times, I wish I could say certain things & write about them on here or just write abt them at all.

Still months passed, and nothing came, even though things begged to be written.

Then, much like a scolded child peeking around the corner wondering if it is safe to come out again, words began slowly seeping out - hoping not to be noticed.

Here's the thing though: words written by a writer, more specifically - words written by me - need to be read.  Isn't that the point?

To be authentic. 
To be true.  
To be real.

To at least one trusted person, who loves me.  No matter what.

For years, writing has been therapeutic.  Such a good outlet for me, especially to let things out that aren't so... pretty.  Things that aren't so... perfect.  I write abt tough stuff.  Stuff that most people would rather forget.

Here's the thing abt forgetting though - there is no healing in forgetting.  Or pretending to forget.  Or just pretending... period. So for now, I write some things in private. And some things in public too.

I'll find the words.  I'll reclaim my voice.  And I'll be back.

Falling Slowly

I'm really feeling this song tonight...