All in Personal
And so, I continue to run. I’ll continue this streak so long as there is a pandemic, and likely it won’t stop there. Heck, it may be 30 years from now, I’ll be coming in from a run on a family vacation and the grandkids ask me why I’m still doing it, and suddenly this piece of me is really a piece of history. It’s a story of how the world changed, and how I fought to keep my heart from becoming jagged in the process.
The other side was pulling me in a direction that yearned to let go; it told me I couldn’t move forward with joy unless I let go of the need to live in grief. And so then I made the decision. I planted my feet at the bottom of that dark ocean floor, and I pushed with all of my might until I came up to the surface and breathed in deep into a new beginning.
I've got Taylor Swift playing in my head as I type this...is it too soon to do this yet? Part of me doesn’t want to be vulnerable like this, with something just 4 months in. Part of me is afraid to admit that I feel far more joy than I do sadness these days, because of the judgement I might face. I also know that I don’t know what tomorrow holds…
There is still great honor in the seemingly small life. But really, your life is never small, and what God is doing in and through you can't be fully measured this side of heaven.
Life was ripped from my grasp in an instant and death has pervaded my thoughts for 365 days. One year ago I couldn't imagine surviving. I couldn't imagine what life would look like, my life without Rob, a future without him in it. I feared that I was going to lose everything we'd worked to build. But yet I watched miracle after miracle in the weeks that followed. I experienced the presence of God in a way I never have before, and unless you've experienced tragedy, it's difficult to explain.
undaunted: undismayed; not discouraged; not forced to abandon purpose or effort; undiminished in courage or valor; not giving way to fear.
This word came to me several months ago, and when I looked up the definition I knew this was my proclamation. And in time it has helped to shape a changing future.
I do wonder when I'm going to genuinely say "I'm doing good" when people ask how I'm doing. Number one, I hate that question because there are million different things firing in my brain when it's asked. But my only answer is "I'm doing okay." Which feels so fake, so safe. But its the true and honest only thing I know to answer. I'm not doing terrible, I'm not doing great, so okay is actually...okay.
The first 100 days of a President's tenure are always heavily documented by the media. They analyze his achievements, his failures, his progress, and the impact of every decision he's made. I don't plan to analyze every decision I've made in the past 100 days, but here's the good, the bad, and the ugly.
In going through Rob's things I came across a prayer journal he kept for me during our days of long distance dating. The very first prayer her wrote out took my breath away. It was as if he was praying over me straight from heaven, at the feet of Jesus. I'm vulnerably sharing it here, because I can't contain how incredible God is in comforting me in the most profound ways.
For nearly a year we'd had a family reunion planned for the end of September in Canada. It was Rob's dad's 60th birthday and it was long overdue that the entire family was together. Rob hadn't seen his sister or niece in 5 years, so we were all looking forward to renting an AirBnB on Georgian Bay together.
Two days after Rob's accident I was walking home from dropping Josiah off at school. The words below flooded me and I wrote them down when I got home. I knew I had to speak at Rob's memorial service. I want to share this here, not only because several people who couldn't be at the service have asked about what I said, but also because I simply want to honor him and the man that he was to me. I want others to know the Hope I have, and where I place my trust.
On August 20th, 2017, at 5:37 pm, my world stood still.
Six days later I stood by my husband's casket as it was lowered into the ground.
I wanted a way to acknowledge the painful things we face today, in surrendering the things we have no control over. For me, it was a baby long awaited for and taken far too soon. For others it's having a job that you love and are passionate about. For many others it's a spouse, or owning a home, or having a relationship with a dad you never knew. A mom who left you, or a spouse taken too soon.
A little peak into our road trip across the country and vacation in Canada.
