No really, physically aching and hurting.
My wrist is acting up again. I smell like a walking stick of mint gum because of the IcyHot I’m using excessively.
Please take my advice when I say that you shouldn’t get in fights with concrete walls - even 6 years later you’ll be regretting that loss.
I need Jesus to heal my wrist.
Jenn - “I’m going to call you ‘druggie.’”
Me- “Well this druggie needs to take a couple sips of her cough syrup.”
Jenn - “The ‘coon dogs are gonna be shootin’ them some squirells.”
Me - “‘Coon dogs don’t shoot squirells.”
Jenn - “Does that really matter.”
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I’m home safe and sound. Had some fun on the road and got a good night’s/day’s sleep.
See you this Saturday, Kansas City.
The toll of the last couple weeks is finally hitting me. Suffocating panic and grief catch me in that weak moment somewhere between awareness and sleep. The fast heart beat and shortness of breath that captures me in those moment drains me beyond belief. I start my days not wanting to wake, not wanting to move, not wanting to feel. And somewhere in my pain, God meets me there.
Be it in the prayer room, laying in bed crying, driving in the car, hanging out with dear friends - He meets me there. As I sit and just stare into space asking God the inevitable question - “why?” - He reaches me. As I reluctantly open the Word and read - He speaks to me. As I fight, and cry, and whisper into the air my weak prayers begging for help - He ministers to me.
I would be lying if I said that I’m not depressed, that I’m not struggling. I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t wondering about God’s ways being better than mine. I would be lying if I said that I long to feel his rough chin on my forehead as he gives me one more hug and pinches my arm for hiding from him for the last hour at a family gathering. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t going to miss his homemade pickles and fresh veggies from his garden.
I miss my Grandpa. The white haired man, deaf in both ears, obsessed with watch football and going hunting, whose prayers over meals made a family gathering comfortable and memorable, who raised 6 children, loved 14 grand-kids, and doted on 10+ great grandchildren, who cut down the Christmas tree every year from his own land and took us 4 wheeling on the same hills.
Please don’t tell me not to cry, or give me some line about it all being for the best. Please let me wrestle this out with the Lord. Let me go to His feet and gaze on His face - and feel the love that He has for me, the compassion He has for my pain. Don’t tell me you know what I’m going through because you can’t experience my grief. Just let me be who and what I am right now. I may not always be pretty and have it all together, but who of us do have it all together? I need friendships right now that let me be.
I’m so thankful for my friends right now. They don’t push me, but they encourage me to live. They don’t look down on my pain, but they look for little ways to ease it. They pray for me and give me hugs, they listen when I need to talk, they let me be alone when I need it, and they hold me when the tears get too strong to hold back. When I fall asleep early in the day they let me rest as I need it - recognizing that I can’t do as much as I was able to do a few weeks ago. When I say I need to go to the prayer room and think, they let me go and sometimes sit next to me as I cry. When I say I need to have some fun, they spend the day with me doing things that make us all smile.
There are blessings to be found in this pain. I just have to make a point to look for them.
It is true - I am blessed beyond belief. I have an amazing job, amazing friends, a wonderful place to pray and worship, and so much more.
Last night I got an example of how wonderful life is when a relatively new friend stayed beside me during a panic attack. I was scared and needed support. She was calm and just sat by me. After all was said and done we got to talk about some serious stuff and had a few laughs.
Yes, I am blessed.
Just after I wrote the last update on here - not 15 minutes later - we got the call from the hospital. After looking so good and Mom and I agreeing that I should head back to KC, Grandpa died. Not an hour and a half later I was on the road back here. Somewhere between Rich Hill and Butler, MO I managed to hit a coyote and damage the front end of my car.
Yeah, it was a crappy day.
But I’m back in the prayer room and doing the things I love.
Today on the list - teach class and call the insurance company.
In just about an hour or so I’m back on the road again. After a whirl-wind visit that included sleeping on the bed I’ve slept in since I was 12, shopping for a few winter things I needed, visiting the hospital to see Grandpa, spending time with my family in general, seeing my Mimi and Aunt Judy, and eating good Mexican food I’m heading back to Kansas City. This is not a moment too soon in my opinion. I can’t sit here in Shreveport and wait for death to happen. I have to live my life. It was hard seeing Grandpa down - this was more for me than for him since he didn’t have a clue I was even at the hospital. I can live with myself now that I know I came down for my family. I’m heading back to life as I know it now - back to students and roommates and spending way too much time staring at computers and THE PRAYER ROOM!
When the time comes I’ll be back down here. But until then I’m going to pray and live like I know Grandpa would want me to live - happy with work and life, at peace with God and myself.
In about an hour and a half I’m gonna be back on the road again. I don’t know how long I’m staying down south - it could be a couple days or it could be a week. I didn’t sleep at all last night it feels like. Grief does funny things to your body. I feel almost guilty not teaching today. My mind is useless for teaching though - all I think about is Grandpa. I need to get down south and see him before he dies.
I want to spend some time in the prayer room before I leave, but I’m afraid I’ll lose my composure again in there. I guess I won’t go in, but when I get home I’ll take advantage of the free GBF broadcasts.
Will someone please tell me that its OK to not feel guilty?
I feel at a total loss right now. How did Tiff put it yesterday? Oh yeah, “the north winds are blowing” was the phrase she used. First the news about D - now news about Grandpa. Grandpa has had cancer for the past several months. Between the chemo and the radiation his immune system has been compromised. I found out yesterday that he had been in the hospital for almost 2 weeks for pneumonia, released a few days ago, and readmitted yesterday. My brother went to see him yesterday - and passed word on to my mom that a DNR order was signed.
This is tearing me up. I’m over 600 miles from home, my grandpa is dying, and I just want to be with my family. I’m waiting to go down south though - I only have 7 days off a year and I don’t want to go down and then not have enough paid days off to go down later.
I’m praying the Grandpa will go home with hospice care and that I’ll be able to see him come Thanksgiving.
This is hard on my heart - but it’s pushing me more and more towards God. I’m laid bare before him. I have cried much yesterday and today - and slept more than I’ve cried.
Tonight my plan is to get into the prayer room for a few hours or hang out with some good friends. Last night Margaret went to the coffee shop with me to keep me from being alone. My friends are praying for me. My roommates are so supportive. Meanwhile - I feel like my world is collapsing.
God, I need You to help me.
Last night my words failed me. My heart felt like it was breaking, shattering into a million shards. I had tried to not write on here this past week about the then pending expulsion hearing of one of my students. D. was expelld Tuesday and the staff was notified yesterday at a before-school faculty meeting.
We have had an issue this year with gang related incidents - graffiti and what not. He admitted to the graffiti and then admitted he was part of a gang. When he refused to leave the gang, the expulsion board did not have a choice but to recommend expulsion. It was up to the principal as to whether or not she went with the board’s recommendation. I understand why she went with the board’s recommendation. I even agree with the decision.
However, agreeing with and understanding the decision does not make it any easier. It is hard for me to know that this child (he’s 13) is now without a school, lives as an orphan with his dieing grandmother, and is in a gang.
I was not kidding when I said these students keep me on my knees. I pace the floors praying for them. I pace the floors begging for wisdom to teach them rightly. I cry over their troubles and rejoice in their successes. I hope for a better future for them than the lives they live now. I want them to be successful and happy, but more than financial success and temporary happiness - I want them to become lovers of God.
Two more boys on expulsion hearing now. I pray for them. I cry for them. I chose to love them. I want to give a second chance. Unfortunately, this choice they have made may have severe and far reaching consequences for them.
Oh God, give me wisdom.
