Here's to 2020

In 2013 when she passed, my whole world stopped. To be fair, between becoming a new mother in 2007, blundering through postpartum depression, weathering a miscarriage in 2008, my world was already inwardly reeling well before her death. Looking back, I can see this clearly, but at the time it just seemed like the normal struggle of life.

But when she died, it's like the whole world just stopped, then it began to move in very slow motion in an opposite and different and new direction all together. Then, all of a sudden, like Dorothy in the tornado, I found my mind spinning out of control and transplanted to Oz, which quite literally ended up being from Georgia to California in 2014, and my family wasn't in Kansas anymore.

God knew exactly what He was doing every step of the way. 

To steal a quote from Lysa Terkearst, "the seeming permanence of some of the heartbreak ha(d) stolen some of (my) affection for life (It's Not Supposed to Be This Way, 2018)." Yes. Stolen my affection for life. I had slowly been losing my affection for life for some time if I look back and am honest. I was nursing wounds of seeming failure as a teacher. (This might be the first time I've ever even admitted I felt that way.) I was drowning in survival mode and seeming uselessness as a new mother. (Again, this was my inward world, I'm not sure even I knew at the time what was brewing in my mind.) I am not the mom who enjoyed those early years. Don't get me wrong. I treasured them, tried to appreciate them, and didn't wish them away, but when my youngest turned four, I breathed an inward sigh of relief that those early years were now treasured memories. I had survived.

I tried to thrive, but during the early years of my children, I weathered deep postpartum after my first, then silently grieved a miscarriage long after my second was born in 2009, somewhere in there my husband lost his brother (2010), and I buried a beloved grandfather (2012). It was life in my late twenties, early thirties. Everyone weathers crap, right? Everyone grieves sometimes about somethings. I was an adult. I could handle this. Right? 

I realize now how gentle and empathetic of a soul I have. Many have complimented me on my strength over the years, but the reality is my soft heart that feels deeply had a wall of emotional armor around it that grief was eating through like acid, and when it reached the soft underbelly of who I really was, I was in pain. You can only live life in pain for so long before it actually drives you crazy. When Savannah Veale died, my armor was destroyed, and I was left utterly exposed and frantic, my mind vulnerable to all the acid of the grief. In retrospect, it also left me completely vulnerable to the gentle working and molding of my Jesus. 

God sent the tornado that transplanted us to California. That was His doing. Except my yellow brick road was paved with sand and ocean waves. He even sent me my own Lion, Scarecrow, and Tin Man to keep me company, and we've journeyed together toward Oz, back to the heart of the Wizard of Oz, except in this metaphor, the Wizard of Oz really is the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. He was never a fake behind a curtain. Truth be told, He was with me on this journey the whole time, orchestrating every circumstance right there by my side.

So I sit here on the verge of 2020, looking ahead, and I am grateful for the journey. I've not reached a point where I can say I'm grateful for all the griefs. I am grateful for the freedom I've found in journeying back to the heart of my Jesus. I'm grateful for the relationships forged in fire along this journey, my husband being the closest and deepest. I'm grateful I am in a personal relationship with Jehovah Rapha, the God Who Heals. 

For many years now, I have believed that healing, deep healing from all the griefs of life, wasn't truly possible this side of heaven. If for the last decade I have been on a quest for joy and found it again in my Jesus, maybe the next decade is a quest for healing? or maybe victory? I don't know. I just know that Jesus healed so many during His time here on earth, and I believe His healing continues to this day, but I think maybe it looks so much different than what I think it should look or feel like.

My therapist said the other day, "Maybe part of healing is learning to accept what is instead of constantly dwelling on what could have been." This is a hard statement. One I keep rolling over in my mind, examining whether I believe there is truth there. I think there is.

Hebrews 12:1-3
Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, 2fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before Him He endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. 3Consider Him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.

I think it could also read....
Therefore, since we are not alone, let us throw off the idea of what could have been and the sins of the mind that idea can use to so easily entangle us. And let keep running the race that is here, now, in front of us, laser focused on Jesus, the One who went first and perfected our faith. He chose the suffering of the cross to claim the joy He knew was on the other side, redeeming what the world saw as shame into glory, He took His place at the right hand of God the Father. When we struggle with the griefs and pain of this life, remember Jesus, so that you will not grow so weary that you lose hope. 

He is our Hope. And I think maybe it is finding hope again that also aids in healing.

So here's to 2020, the beginning of another decade--quite literally for me since I'm a 1980 baby--the beginning of new quests, new dreams, new tomorrows. I don't know what lies ahead, but all that lies behind has taught me Jesus has me covered. Here's to taking next steps, wherever life takes me, with eyes laser focused on Him. I'm telling you, the greatest adventures in life are lived with and for and in Christ.

Truly, deeply, in Christ, I wish you the Happiest of New Years!
Grateful to be His,
Jennifer