When you're afraid to pray.

It has been a while since I've blogged. Lots of reasons...life being the biggest of reasons. I have found myself feeling emotional and overwhelmed...much like the first few months after Dad's death. I have also found it increasingly more difficult to pray...not because I don't know how to pray necessarily but because I'm afraid to pray. Now, I know what you're thinking (all 2 of you =0) "Afraid to pray?! What is wrong with her?! Is she crazy or something?!!"  Well, while there are those who would argue that point, don't give up on me quite yet...

In the months since Dad's death, I've noticed something...whatever I pray the opposite seems to happen. I prayed for Dad to be healed and to proclaim the glory of the Lord in the land of the living. I prayed this prayer vehemently...fervently! While healing did come, it was not the healing for which I prayed. In the last year and a half, I have prayed for my children...for their hearts to healed, for them to have some degree of success in whatever they endeavor to do - to feel a small sense of accomplishment to build a wee bit of confidence. Again, fervently I prayed...almost begging God for a glimmer of hope and healing for them and again, the opposite happened. It seems as though at every turn there has been something or someone to knock them down, degrade their confidence or further illuminate their pain and grief. So, I gave up...I quit praying and guess what...things improved for my children. So now perhaps you understand why I'm afraid to pray.

I want to pray. I want to know that when I pray, Christ hears my petition and answers my prayer but I don't feel that way. I want to...but I don't. It makes me feel so inadequate as a parent, wife, friend and Christian to have the inability to pray with confidence. I feel like a failure...a disappointment...not just to my children but to my faith, to my Dad who always prayed, to my mom who continues to pray, to my friends who pray, to strangers who pray...I'm a failure!!! Prayer is the language of faith and I'm a MUTE!!!

I am a believer! I want an intimate relationship with Christ...like the one my earthly father had with Him. I know that intimacy with Christ comes through prayer and studying the word but the bulk of the relationship is built through communication with Christ. Regular, heartfelt, honest communication...something that I'm lacking at the moment.

When friends ask for prayer, I want to pray but I fear that my prayers will only hinder the work God wants to do. It's my concern that in my attempt to help through the venue of prayer I will somehow postpone the blessing, the healing, the positive outcome. Of course, I'm that person who feels that if you want a team to lose...just ask me to root for them!  Their loss will be imminent - of that I am certain! 

I can't adequately express how horrible it makes me feel to think I am incapable of praying for those I love. I'm reluctant to say to folks, "yes, I'll pray for you" because I have no faith or confidence in the power of my prayer. Therefore, I don't...I just tell them that I'm thinking of them. 

One thing I do know, that even in the midst of my struggle, God sees and knows my heart. He understands my heartache, my grief and even my silence. This journey continues to be difficult...ups and downs...twists and turns but through all of that I do know that I know that my Heavenly Father loves me in spite of me...and for that I am so much more that grateful.

Tis the season to be STUCK!!

Today marks one year, one month and 8 days since Dad crossed over from this temporary life to eternal life. Time has passed, but I don't find this journey to be any easier.  As the months have gone by, I have missed him more...the further away I am from the last time I heard his voice, saw his smile, heard his laughter, felt that tight squeeze from a bear hug that only he could give I find myself feeling sad, forsaken, hurt, angry...STUCK! I'm stuck in my journey...more than a year later and I am still asking how could this have happened and why Lord, why??!!!

This holiday season has been challenging...even more so than last year which was our first without Dad. I think we were in shock...still walking around in disbelief that the Heavenly Father had really allowed this profound grief and heartbreak to enter our lives.  However, this year...it was real.  Dad's absences was very very real and it was painful!

Many of my friends have lost a parent and they appear to move through that grief with their faith intact.  I'm finding that "keeping the faith" is not as easy as it seems.  I see/hear about friends and acquaintances who are going through difficult times and as I observe them...watch them walk through the difficult time, it seems that their faith becomes stronger, deeper more profound.  Not me! I have found it more difficult to trust, depend on and pray to my Heavenly Father.  What does that say about me? It makes me question whether my faith was ever really "mine" or did I derive my faith in God from outside myself?  Did I depend too much on Dad to be the prayer warrior...to believe for me instead of with me? One thing the Lord is showing me is that I did and still do depend on others in matters of faith. I have no confidence in my faith or the power of my prayers. After all, I prayed and believed that The Great Physician would restore my Dad - heal his fleshly body and look where that got me. I know that of the 2 or 3 folks that will read this, one or two of you will think I've become a full blown heathen...I promise, I haven't...I'm just a person of faith who is struggling through a "dark night of the soul". My head tells me that this too shall pass and I will be stronger and my faith will be deeper and will belong to me on the other side of this journey.  I'm beginning to wonder though, if I'm going to make it to "other side" of this journey.

In the last year, I've had to listen to my head a lot more than my heart. My head hears all the truths Dad taught me, all the scriptures he quoted and all the things of faith he shared with me and with countless others. Yep, my head hears it and knows it's true...ahhhh, but my heart...my heart is broken and still can't fathom life without Dad here in his earthly body. As I sit here typing my mind is saying over and over..."I can't believe he's gone! How could God do this to us?! This can't be true...I don't believe it!! Why would He do this?! It's not fair...not fair at all!!! Dad was strong and preaching and teaching better than ever! He still had so much more to give for you Lord! Why did you take him from us?!!! Why? WHY?! WHY?!!" Yep, that's where I am.

A friend of mine has shared with me journals she kept during the first years after losing her Dad quite unexpectedly.  I can't tell you how much reading her deepest thoughts has started to help me sort through my own. To see my thoughts written on paper by someone else...WOW! It's as if she is in my head and heart...it's as if I wrote the words I'm reading. There is something about knowing you're not crazy...you're not alone...you're not the only person who has thought and felt this way.

I think that there is still a part of my heart that can't accept that Dad is gone from this earth. I think perhaps that's why he hasn't visited me. I have had only one dream about Dad since his death and in the dream he sat in a chair and observed. He didn't say or do anything...which if you knew my dad at all you would know how uncharacteristic this behavior is for him. That's the only "visit" I've had and I don't really consider it a visit because there was no interaction between us. My children and my mom have all had visits, dreams and experiences with Dad's presence. Perhaps my unwillingness to fully accept his death keeps him from coming to me.  Perhaps my irritation/unrest...okay anger with God keeps Dad at bay.  I don't know...I can't know. What I do know is that I long for an experience...I want to feel my Dad's presence...hear his voice, his laugh, hug his neck...even if it is only a dream.

I can't tell you how my heart aches to think about the fact that my children have so many years ahead of them without my Dad's presence here on earth. I'm selfish and like spoiled brat I find myself shouting "I want my Daddy!!!" I want Darryl Ross back in his body on this earth healed and whole! My head knows that this is not to be...but I think somewhere in my heart I'm holding out hope.  How weird is that?!!!

When I blog it feels like I'm just rambling. I feel like I'm jumping from one thought to the next without any real purpose or fluidity. I've felt jumbled, befuddled and lost since Dad's death.  My mind feels scattered and restless...I feel like I'm having an out of body experience that won't end! Little things set me off...anger is always right near the surface...anger and tears, they both lay just below the surface and spring up randomly sometimes for no good reason...BAM...there they are! Sometimes simultaneously and sometimes individually. One minute I'm fine and the next I'm completely out of sorts because I can't find the tape! The emotions ebb and flow everyday and when they flow...boy, oh boy...STAND CLEAR!!! It makes me crazy and I know my family is thinking "what in the world is her problem?" My daughter asked me the other day "Why are you always mad at me?" It took me aback..."I'm not always mad at you." I responded. She replied, "It seems like you are...like you're always mad." Oh my gosh!!!  I don't want my kids' memories of me to be "Mom was always mad after Pop died" - I want them to have the same kind of fondness for me that I have for my Dad and my time with him while he was on this earth. My Dad had a knack for making the most of each day...each moment really. I wish I was more like that! Wish I had the ability to make every moment count for eternity the way he did.

Since Dad's death, I've felt this need (for lack of a better word) to see/visit people I love and who have played important roles in my life along the way. I want to sit down with them and catch up face to face...hug their necks and tell them how much they've meant and continue to mean to me. How they've helped shape me into the person I am. More often than not...life gets in the way - between work and the kids' schedules and the schedules of those I'm wanting to see...well you get the idea. Making the rounds becomes almost impossible but I hope that 2014 will afford some opportunities for me to do just that...to see the important people...not just on Facebook or via email but to see them - hug a neck - laugh - cry - reminisce! I think being an only child made me treasure my friends more...made them an important part of my life than folks who had siblings. My friends became an extension of my family. I think that's why I've felt such a need to reach out to them (even in the smallest ways) during the journey.  To touch again that time in my life and those people who knew Dad and knew me when Dad was alive. I don't know...weird, huh?! I guess comfort comes in odd ways during difficult times.

I want to make my Dad proud! I want to be the person God intends me to be...the person my parents raised me to be. I want to honor my earthly parents and my Heavenly Father with my life! I'm just not sure that I know how to do that now.  I'm so glad that the Lord sees and knows my heart and won't give up on me...even if, for a minute, I may give up on myself.


Psalm 130: 1-5
From the depths of despair, O Lord
              I call for your help.
Hear my cry, O Lord.
               Pay attention to my prayer.
LORD, if you kept a record of our sins,
                Who, O Lord, could ever survive?
But you offer forgiveness,
                 that we might learn to fear you.
I AM COUNTING ON THE LORD;
                  YES, I AM COUNTING ON HIM
                   I HAVE PUT MY HOPE IN HIS WORD.

This Time Last Year

Made it through the first "week" of school.  It's always soooo tiring - getting used to rising at crack o'clock every day of the week. I'm grateful to have a job but boy, do I wish they'd pay me to stay home.  I have a new teaching position this year.  I am the Title 1 math teacher for K-2 so it's a school year of "firsts" to accompany my life year of firsts without Dad.  Yep, it always comes back to that...

This time last year my folks had been given the news that Dad had prostate cancer and they were waiting to tell me knowing that the start of a new school year brought its own kind of stress to my life.  I had gotten off to a late start with not being at pre-planning due to our trip to the USSSA 12U Fastpitch World Series.  That in and of itself had me all befuddled to a certain degree...it also produced a feeling of uneasiness...an unsettled feeling.  This time last year, I was calling in to report how fall ball was going - Garrett was playing rec ball and Sara Beth was still with the GA Jinx 12U team.  I was blissfully ignorant.  This time last year, my Dad was mowing grass, planting and tending to his flowers, running errands, reading books, preparing and preaching sermons...LIVING LIFE.  There was no outwardly visible sign to tell the world that this man had cancer.  He was strong and full of life and laughter. 

Funny how life can change in the blink of an eye.  This time last year, I could NEVER have imagined that he'd be in Heaven...gone from us in the physical body.  This time last year, I didn't have this ache in my soul...this "fussy" unsettled feeling.  

On my worst days, I'm angry and giving God the cold shoulder...wondering what we ever did to deserve the pain of this journey.  On my best days, I remember my Dad's laughing eyes, his wise counsel and the love he had for all he knew and I still believe that there's a plan...that God's not finished and if I will wait on Him the plan will be fulfilled.  

When Dad was first diagnosed, a dear friend told me that God wasn't taken by surprise by any of the news that had literally brought our world to a screeching halt.  He had seen the beginning to the end and His Word was true.  He's incapable of lying. Even after Dad died, she repeated those words to me many times.  And now, on my VERY best days...I'm starting to believe again that that's true.

Letting go of the way we were

It has been a little over 8 months since we lost my Dad.  Eight months into this journey and I find myself, on most days, still not quite willing to believe that he is gone.  I long for the way we were...the way we were before his death.  I long for "normal"...the "old normal".  I'm finding it difficult to cultivate my "new normal".  There are days when I think, "hey, I'm think I'm/we're gonna be okay" and then WHAM!! That empty feeling engulfs me, that sinking feeling in my gut returns and I feel like it's day 1 again.

This time last year, I was calling my folks to give updates on our USSSA 12U World Series experience.  We were in Orlando with our daughter's travel ball team having a great time with friends and watching softball.  I was missing pre-planning which was weird for me...I've NEVER missed pre-planning but I figured it wouldn't be too difficult to "catch up" that first week of school. However, not being at school and starting back the same day as the kids...it just felt weird...not at all normal.  From day 1 of the 2012-2013 school year, I felt off kilter - not quite right - out of sorts. Little did I know at the time that this feeling was a foreshadowing of things to come. I was getting ready to receive a curve ball that would change the course of my life. In September, my Dad shared the news with me that he'd been diagnosed with prostate cancer and had been given a Gleeson score of 8 (which in most cases indicates that the chance the cancer has spread is greater).  To say the least, I was floored!  After hanging up the phone, I got in my van and drove and yelled/screamed at God.  "WHY?! WHY?! WHY?! HOW COULD YOU LET THIS HAPPEN, LORD? MY DAD HAS LOVED AND SERVED YOU FAITHFULLY! IS THIS HOW YOU SHOW YOUR LOVE TO YOUR FAITHFUL SERVANTS? WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!!!"  I was angry, confused and very scared!

Typically, I talked to my parents several times a day, but after that September afternoon, without realizing it I had stopped talking to them as frequently.  I was afraid I'd say something that would "mess up" Dad's healing or speak negativity and I didn't want to do that.  After a lengthy and tearful conversation with my Dad, I went back to the normal communication routine but something was different in me.  I felt a shift from being fearful to being faithful.  I found every scripture I could related to healing, faith, trust and blessings and posted them everywhere so that I could speak healing over my Dad and speak faith words all the time. And then, the unthinkable happened and my world came crashing down. My Dad died in spite of trusting and believing and I was left in a mournful heap ashes.  Where was I supposed to go from here...what was I supposed to do or believe now?

I still struggle everyday with why and how this happened.  I also ask myself if perhaps my prayers weren't right or my faith wasn't deep enough or I didn't trust enough. I think, perhaps I'll always have those questions but as I move along this journey, I'm beginning to understand that letting go of the way we were doesn't mean forgetting...nope, it means letting go of the "old normal" to make room for the "new normal".  I'm not forgetting my Dad or his love for me or the fun we had together.  I could NEVER forget - it is embedded in my heart for all time.  No, I think letting go is just the opposite because by striving to carve out my "new normal" I'm honoring his life and legacy.  I think in letting go we are better able to hang on (sounds crazy, right?)...hang on to our past without allowing it to press us down. Letting go provides renewed strength to help us hang on to our present so that I/we can live in the moment. I know that Dad would want me to move forward in faith - "letting go of what is past and straining forward to what lies ahead" (Phil 3:12-14 paraphrased).  I think the word "straining" describes perfectly where I am right now.  I'm straining to get through this- to get where the Lord wants me so that I can be who the Lord wants me to be.  It will continue to be a "strain" for me to move through the rest of my days on earth without my Dad's physical presence.  He was a HUGE part of my life and the lives of my children and the void in my heart, I think, will remain until I see him again in Heaven.  I know that there are still many difficult days ahead and as we get closer to the anniversary of his death...well, I'm already dreading that and wondering what that day will look and feel like.

I miss my Daddy every single day.  There's not a day that goes by that I don't think of him several times throughout the day.  People tell me that gradually, that will change...but I don't want that to change.  I want to hold him close in my thoughts and in my heart...ALWAYS. I wish that I could talk to him...wrap my arms around his chest and squeeze him tight (I'm too short to put my arms around his neck) - he did give the best hugs.  I wish I could see that warm, friendly smile in the flesh or hear that boisterous infectious guffaw of his just once more in person.

My sweet friend, Lisa Johnson, shared this song with me.  If my Dad had been a songwriter...I think he'd have written this for me for such a time as this. I've only been able to listen to it a couple of times but it's a haunting melody with a beautiful message of hope.

Dad I'll see you someday " away down the river" but until then...I LOVE YA ALL THE WAY TO HEAVEN...FOR ALWAYS!!!

Baby, dry your eyesThere's no need to cry‘Cause I'll see you againIt might be a while before you understand
I'm just away down the riverA hundred miles or moreCrossing over JordanTo the other shore
I'll be standing waitingWith all who've gone beforeI'm just away down the riverA hundred miles or more
Now the pictures on the wallWill help you to recallThey're not there to make you sadBut to remember all the good times we had
I'm just away down the riverA hundred miles or moreCrossing over JordanTo the other shore
I'll be standing waitingWith all who've gone beforeI'm just away down the riverA hundred miles or more
When it's time to leaveYou're gonna feel the mountain breezeAnd the snow will fill the streamAnd carry you to me
I'm just away down the riverA hundred miles or moreCrossing over JordanTo the other shore
I'll be standing waitingWith all who've gone beforeI'm just away down the riverA hundred miles or more.

The darkness of why, trust and finishing the good work in me

Note: This is an old post that I copied from my previous blog, "Mezzo Forte"

My mom heard a sermon on Easter Sunday about "walking around in the darkness of why" ... and as we talked about that message, we related to walking in that darkness.  Why did Dad get cancer? Why did a surgery that was presented in such a hopeful manner somehow go terribly wrong?  Why didn't the Lord heal Dad in his physical body?  Why did He allow Dad's death to pass through His hands?  Why did the Lord see fit to set us on this journey?  See what I mean?  The darkness of why can consume us and sometimes it does just that.  It shuts out all hope and light.  When I constantly ask why, my thoughts become muddled by doubt, fear, uncertainty and faithlessness.  It becomes a matter of will...my will versus God's will.  Is it God's will for me to walk around in the darkness of why?  No, it's not His will...He wants me to trust Him...to trust His heart even in those moments when I am unable to find His hand. He wants me to forge through my grief to my faith and not continue to rely on the faith of my father.  If my will were done, my Dad would be here...alive and well and playing with his grandchildren.  If my will were done...I wouldn't be on this journey.  It's a journey of letting go while still hanging on.  Letting go of "why" while hanging on to faith. It's a difficult place to be; a crossroads of sorts. I'm navigating through uncharted territory (uncharted for me anyway).

I find myself unable to talk with God right now...if and when I pray all I can muster is "Thank you, Lord for another day." I'm so glad that He sees beyond my grief and knows that it's a process.  There are days that I don't talk to God at all but I know that He's right there waiting for me.  He isn't rushing me through the journey.  And while I know He desires a close relationship with me and I with Him, He is willing to wait for me...for my heart to catch up.  He isn't dragging me through it kicking and screaming (although there has been, and probably will be more, kicking and screaming along the way).  He's guiding me, even when I don't see it or feel it or even think I want it.  He's placing people along my path - behind, beside and even in front to help me heal.

This I know and choose to believe, even when my flesh is not sure...I choose to believe in my soul and have confidence that The One who began a good work in me will be faithful to see it through until Christ returns. (Phil 1:6 paraphrased)

Many years ago, I sang this song and loved it; it spoke to my spirit. While Dad was in the hospital a dear long-time friend shared it with me again and one of the pastors who eulogized Dad unknowingly used paraphrased lyrics during the service.  I share it here because it speaks to my spirit in a very different way now than the first time I sang/heard it...I hope it speaks to you, too.

Trust His Heart

When God Leaves.

This world is broken. I mean broken in to a million pieces and those pieces often seem to be scattered as far as the east is from the west. Folks ask, "How could God let this happen?" Whether it's catastrophic events or little annoyances that grate on our nerves and wear on our faith; I am typically one of those "why-ers" but I've learned over the last six years, that the "why" of it all isn't coming on this side of Glory.

In those "why moments" I often find myself saying "Where are you, Lord?" I get so bogged down in the trial, the grief, the turmoil that I feel abandoned by God. When I begin to feel abandoned I get scared but instead of falling on my face before God and clinging to His hand and trusting His heart, I shake my fist at Him and yell and scream...I'm kinda emotional like that, ya know. I guess I think that if I go all psycho-Christian that it'll cause Him to spring into IMMEDIATE action! I mean, who wants a crazy, pre-menopausal woman yelling and screaming and shaking her fist? I shook my fist at God when my Dad passed away...it didn't change my circumstance and it provided no answers or comfort. I've shaken my fist at God when I felt like my children were facing giants that they shouldn't have to face at such a young age. I mean, the Lord probably looks at me and says,"Here she comes again. Gloves on." In those fist shaking moments, I feel desperate, scared and abandoned by God. What I'm learning is that He was, is and always will be RIGHT HERE WITH ME! He tells me so in His word. However, there's always a BIG ol BUT...BUT I can't see you working! I can't see the change! I can't feel Your presence! Why did you leave?

Then, I remember...He hasn't left. He's been with me all the time...working and moving behind the scenes like our preacher said several weeks ago. While we feel like we're on "pause" He is still working. You know what, I don't have to see it or feel it or even believe it...what I MUST do is TRUST HIM! Trust IN Him and trust Him! It's through the worst parts of life that our faith grows and we learn to become completely dependent on Him. When God leaves, we trust Him more! When God leaves we seek His face more fervently . When God leaves we begin to see that He never really left. We begin to see that all the while He was going before us, behind us, above us, under us, making the way. Clearing the path. Pruning and striping away all the crud that was keeping us/me from being in full fellowship and right relationship with Him. When God "leaves"...He refines us!

So the reality is God DOESN'T leave...but sometimes He waits for us to invite Him in.

Just Breathe

Sometimes we roll along and the world doesn't bother us. It seems that we are in complete harmony with the universe...nothing adversarial impending the journey and then BAM!!! Any and everything that could happen absolutely DOES and your standing there in the middle of a wildly spinning vortex frantically searching for the exit but nary an exit can be found. It's in these frantic moments that I have to remind myself who is REALLY in control. I have to remember in whom I put my trust and JUST BREATHE. However, more often than not, that's the last thing I remember to do. I often find that I allow myself to get caught up in the funnel cloud,losing sight of the Peace Speaker. In those moments when I allow the evil one to rob me of my peace I lose sight of the One who sings over me every day, the One who calms my fears with His love. When I allow myself to get stuck in the scary moments and willingly forfeit my peace and find myself breathlessly clawing my way through the swirling winds of the storm I give the evil one control. It's in those moments that my Heavenly Father sends a song, a scripture or someone who loves me across my path to point me back toward Him and I'm reminded to JUST BREATHE...to release the fear and doubt and embrace the promises of the One who loves me best