August 13, 2014

Dear Matt,

Robin Williams died Monday...but I'm guessing you probably already knew that.  Our sister celebrated another year of her birth yesterday...but you already knew that too.  Today...well, you know what today is.

Most of the time I keep it together.  In fact, most of the time I don't even have to think about "keeping it together"...I just do.  Most of the time I'm happy...not pretend-happy, but truly happy. 

But there are still days when I'm not.  Days like today.  I revert to anger.  I revert to tears.  I revert to questions that I know will never have an answer in this life yet still in my stubborn will, I ask them.  "What if only?"  "Why?"  I ask for the impossible- that I could somehow wake up and realize that ALL of this had just been a bad dream and nothing more- that you are really alive and well and everything in this world is as it should be.

Only it's not.  Everything in this world is NOT as it should be.  That all started well before your death with the fall of Adam, didn't it?  God never said life would be fair, did He?  Now the eye of the world is on Robin Williams' death and his recent passing, for me, only amplifies the emotions that come with this season and highlight, yet again, that this world is NOT as it should be.

I'm angry.  I'm angry at you for doing something so stupid...and permanent.  Did I mention stupid?!(People say not to speak ill of the dead but I'll always be your big sister and that entitles me the right and privilege to call your actions stupid whenever the shoe fits.)  I'm angry at myself for not noticing just how far you'd fallen.  I'm angry with the world that, instead of learning from others' heartache and pain, continues to kill itself.  I mean, suicide is the only cause of death that is 100% preventable.  So, why hasn't it been 100% prevented already?!  I'm angry that your kids won't know you...might not even know that you ever existed!  I'm angry that now when someone asks me how many siblings I have or if I have a brother, that I often have to choose between the simple misleading answer or risk awkwardness with a longer explanation.  I don't want to be known as "the woman whose brother killed himself."  I'm more than that. YOU were more than that.  Excuse my language but it just really pisses me off!  How dare you do that!

I'm sad, too.  I'm sad that there is so much in this life that you're missing...and will continue to miss.  I'm sad that when I lost you, I lost my nephews too.  I'm sad (and also angry) that dreams I didn't even know I had are coming true and I find myself thinking- "Matt's missing this."  My kids won't grow up with their cousins.  We won't take care of mom and Chris together in their old age.  I'm sad that my kids won't have Uncle Matt to show them how to throw a baseball or steal a base.  I'm sad for our sister that you won't be there to walk her down the aisle when she gets married or to hold her future kids.  I'm sad that we won't be grandparents together someday or take vacations together.  I'm sad that holidays now aren't quite as boisterous and that an entire appendage of our family tree is now absent at those events.

Justin and I have been toying with the idea of having another kid or two.  (This is news to some people. ;))  I've always wanted a big family but for some reason, the thought of having a child that will never meet their "Uncle Matt" (at least in this life) kind of bothers me.  It's true that all three of our kids were so young when you died that they most likely don't remember you either but at least they have pictures.  They have video footage.  They have gifts.  Any child we have now won't even have those things to connect with you...just our stories and the photos of others.

I'm concentrating on the burdens right now and ignoring the blessings.  I know that.  But this is one of the few days of the year where I allow myself to completely fall to pieces if I want to so just give me some room for now.

Up until recently, whenever the kids asked how you died, I'd always say you died of a broken heart.  Now that they're older, we've filled in more of the details.  I won't lie.  It's very jarring and unnerving to hear your 9 year old ask you why your brother killed himself...why he hung himself.  How do I answer that when I don't fully know the answer myself?

Matt, you were and still are so dearly and deeply loved.  It's impossible for me to imagine you ever not knowing that.  If I ever gave you reason to think otherwise, I'm so so very sorry.

It's been 5 years.  I've come a long way on this grief journey since that dreadful day, but I've got a ways still yet to go.  Through it all, God is faithful.  His mercies are new every morning and oh, how thankful I am for that!

Love always and forever,
Big Sis

P.S.-There's been a birth in the family today...but you already knew that, didn't you? <3 p="">

Matt's Angelversary 2013

Another blank screen with a blinking cursor.  I type something just to fill the space.  There isn't anything of great significance to say...nothing I haven't already said.  And what could I possibly say anyway that is of any importance at all?  I'm not that wise.  None of us are.  I've had a really hard time lately getting my thoughts down in print.  There are currently over 40 drafts in my account right now.  All on different subjects, all equally incomplete, all too "meh" to finish.  Maybe I'm too much of a perfectionist in that respect.  Maybe I feel like I need to post something profound or not post anything at all.  I don't know...but it bugs me.  I want to blog again and right now I sort of feel stuck.

Today has been a weird day.  It's Matt's angelversary and so he's been on my mind today moreso than most days.  Even so, I've had true moments of happiness as well.  Moments when I caught myself not even thinking about it being Matt's angelversary...and then feeling guilty for forgetting.  Is that what happens after 4 years?  You forget??  I could NEVER forget my brother.  NEVER!  So, what happened?  I don't know.  Life, I guess?  Matt wouldn't want his death and consequently my mourning to consume the rest of my life.  I know that.  But shouldn't I spend ALL of today at least thinking about him?  I've cried today.  I'm crying now.  Earlier my dear autistic son said to me, "Mommy, please don't cry.  It hurts me."  I was so touched by his comment and it occurred to me that grief doesn't just hurt the mourner.  It hurts those we love to see us mourning.  At least, I know I hurt when someone I love is hurting, whether it be emotional or physical pain.  I hate it.  It's awful.

Grief will make you do crazy things.  Did you know that we have a hide-a-bed loveseat that is on its last leg...seriously looks like a dog got a hold of it and ripped the fabric off, chunks of padding are missing from the arms and the cushion has been ripped and re-sewn twice and needs a third treatment?  I don't want to get rid of it.  Why?  Because Matt slept on it.  Our recliner is losing upholstery at the seat and the padding underneath is peeking out at the crease between the seat and the back...but Matt sat in it.  Our dining table is one we had growing up.  It has scratches but we had meals together there as teens.  It's just furniture, right?  I can't take it with me and having it here isn't going to bring him back, right?  But maybe having them around makes him feel that much closer.  Maybe I like the reminder that they bring.  Memories that are attached to these inanimate objects that no one else would place much value in.  Truly the furniture itself isn't worth much.  But the memories...the memories are priceless.  Will I ever be able to let them go?  How many things does a person need to hold on to after losing a loved one?  What's a healthy number?  I have a jacket, t-shirts, jeans, even undershirts and socks.  Socks?!  I picture Matt rolling his eyes at me and saying, "Deedubber, what are you doing?  You really think it would hurt my feelings if you got rid of my socks??  You really think you'd forget about me if you got rid of them?  Come on, now.  Tighten up."  I know it's irrational.  I know it is.  I can't seem to shake it, though.  I don't want to shake it.

He may not be here physically, but he is still very much alive in my memory.  Maybe I'm afraid of forgetting him...forgetting those memories that are so precious to me now.  Walking through this angelversary with moments where my thoughts were NOT on him causes me to think that it's actually remotely possible for me to forget.  Maybe that's why I cling to every little shred that's left of him here on earth.  Have you seen the movie "Ghost"?  I can totally relate to Demi Moore's character in the scene where she picks up a half-empty roll of roll-aids that Patrick Swayze's character left behind in his desk.  It's ridiculous to keep roll-aids, of course, but I understand it.

Yes, today has been a weird day.  I don't know how else to describe it.  It has been sad, happy, maddening, guilt-ridden, enlightening and silly.  I took the kids out to the basketball court today so they could ride their scooters.  We have to walk through an open lawn courtyard to get there and there's another open lawn courtyard on the other side of  the court.  Today...today they were both teeming with dragonflies.  If you know me at all, you know why that's significant.  It was so amazing that I wanted to get a picture of it.  Naturally, of course, the camera couldn't be located so you'll just have to take my word for it.  It was amazing.  We met a neighbor on the way back who was out walking his dog and even he commented on how unusual it was to see SO many dragonflies in the yard.  God may or may not have put them there just for me but I'll tell you this much...He certainly gave me eyes to see them, and for that, I am very thankful.  Did you know that Native American tribes believe the dragonfly signifies happiness, speed, and purity?  It also represents transformation and the ever constant process of change.  That's how I remember Matt...happy, vibrant, fast, and with a childhood innocence (naivete?) that he never outgrew.  No dream was too big.  Nothing was too far out of reach.  This realization about his personality is what makes his death that much more unbelievable.  He was our dreamer!  Forever optimistic about the future and what could happen.  NEVER willing to give up and throw in the towel.  He inspired us all!  So, how?  I may never know.  What was he thinking?  A moment of weakness.  We all have them.  No one is immune.  His death has been a transforming experience for all of us.  I find myself in this ever constant process of change and sometimes, frankly, I don't like it.  I don't feel ready for change.  It feels too much like letting go which is something I don't want to do.  That's part of the healing journey, though, isn't it?  Change.  Being transformed.  So, I'll do my best.  God is walking with me, even carrying me sometimes.  The healing continues.  His mercies are new every morning.  <3 br="">

Joy Comes In the Mourning

I got a little emotional during class Sunday morning as we discussed finding joy in our affliction.  We are studying the book of Isaiah, which I've really enjoyed.  It's not really the most uplifting book (overall) but there are great moments of hope to be found as well.  That's one of the many awesome things about God.  He never leaves us without any hope.  The people of Isaiah's day suffered many afflictions.  Many of them were of their own making.  Some were simply the product of living in a fallen world.  Either way, we would be wise to heed the warnings from Isaiah, learn from the mistakes of their time, and to remind ourselves that even in the midst of suffering and woe, God remains faithful to His people.  He will bring restoration.  He will make everything right.  He will bring atonement for us.

So, back to finding joy in our affliction...  You've probably heard the verse, "Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds..." (James 1:2).  Well, most of us don't.  Pure joy?  Come on, let's be real.  Pain and suffering hurt.  And we don't like to hurt...at least I know I don't.  But did you know that having joy is not the same thing as being happy?  You can have joy and be sad at the same time.  How?  I'll try to explain.

Noah Webster defines joy as "the passion or emotion excited by the acquisition or expectation of good; that excitement of pleasurable feelings which is caused by success, good fortune, the gratification of desire or some good possessed, or by a rational prospect of possessing what we love or desire; gladness; exultation; exhilaration of spirits. Joy is a delight of the mind, from the consideration of the present or assured approaching possession of a good." (emphasis mine)  Joy is an anticipation of something better, something good, something we desperately want.  It is a confident hope of what our heart most desires.

Today is my brother's birthday.  He would have been 32 years old.  Over three years have come and gone since his death.  I miss him so much.  I miss the sound of his voice, his laugh, his funny phrases like "That's messed up" or "Tighten up".  I'm pretty sure that if he had lived long enough to hear it, "yolo" would have been at the top of that list, too.  (For the older generation, that's short for "you only live once".)  I miss his hugs, as painful as they could be.  I remember one particular time when I hugged him upon seeing him for the first time after several months and it was like hugging a rock!  He was so muscular and strong.  He, on the other hand, probably felt like he was hugging a marshmallow. lol

So, today we have a birthday with no "birthday boy".  This is the fourth time we have endured it and I wonder how many more birthdays we will "celebrate" without him.  So this cycle will continue every year until Jesus returns or we die.    But what else can we do?  We wait.  We give thanks to God that Matt was born.  We give thanks to God for his life, for his influence, and for his heart.  We give thanks to God for His mercy, His forgiveness, His love.  We give thanks that because of His great love, He has given us an escape from despair, pain, and loss.  He is our Hope.  He is...you guessed it...our Joy.  So, today we celebrate Matt's life, earthly as well as eternally.  We wait expectantly for that glorious day when we will see him again face to face and praise our heavenly Father forever and ever and ever amen!...together.  Until then, we will cry tears of joy, for joy can be found in the mourning.  Happy Birthday, lil bro!  Love you bunches!!

It's Only God Who Makes You Whole

It's been over 3 years but holidays are still hard.  Not as hard as the first year.  But still hard.  Honestly, this year may be harder than last year simply because this is our family year rotation for Christmas, meaning I would normally be seeing Matt on the 25th along with the rest of the family, whereas last year was an "in-law" year so seeing him for the holidays wasn't expected.

So as Christmas draws nearer and nearer, I still find joy in the season while savoring and creating more precious memories with my husband and children as well as our extended family.  Yet, the ache remains.  The longing for him to be a part of this, for my nephews to be a part of this (another very difficult thing to swallow particularly since they are still alive), for what might have been...  There is a hole, a void, something- nay, someones missing.   And there always will be.

But that doesn't mean we remain stuck in our grief.  It doesn't mean we spend the rest of our lives in misery or dread every holiday.  We have good days and we have bad days.  Hopefully, as time passes and God heals our broken hearts we have more good than bad days.  Those of us who have traveled through the valley of grief and loss understand that feeling, particularly Christians.  We have heartache, but we have hope.  We miss those we love but are thankful that we will see them again and look forward to that day when God makes everything new and there is no more death or crying or sorrow or pain.

I started thinking about Matt on the way home this afternoon.  The kids wanted to listen to one of their CD's for the umpteenth time and one of the songs (which I've heard a zillion times before) really struck a cord this time.  Here are the lyrics and a youtube clip of a children's group singing the song.  The entire musical is really cute so if you are interested in the sheet music or CD, go to kidsworksmusic.com for more information.  The name of the show is "Life is Good" and the title of the song is "Good Grief".  The lyrics that really "hit home" with me are in bold.  If this is your first Christmas without a loved one, first of all, I'm so sorry for your loss.  Secondly, please take heart and do not fear.  God has overcome the world.  He can heal you.  Going through the fire can and will be painful and for someone as impatient as I am, it can take awhile.  But He will never leave you.  Will you come to Him?  Will you trust Him?  He is waiting.

No one on the planet is happy all the time.

Bad things happen every day.

But if you just remember, that God is there with you,

He will help you when you pray...

"Good grief." (x2 with echo)

It's perfect peace beyond belief.

It's knowing God is in control, good grief.

When something awful happens and you don't understand.

You can't find any hope inside.

The LORD wants you to trust Him, and never be afraid.

His loving arms will hold you tight.

Good grief. (x2 with echo)

It's perfect peace beyond belief.

It's knowing God is in control, good grief.

When trouble robs you like a thief,

It's only God who makes you whole, good grief.

Life is like a roller coaster, full of ups and downs.

Each day has good and bad times, with smiles and frowns.

But God promised to be there through all of our thicks and thins

And after the darkest night a bright new day begins.

Good grief (x2 with echo)

It's perfect peace beyond belief.

It's knowing God is in control.

Good grief (x2 with echo)

When trouble robs you like a thief,

It's only God who makes you whole,

Good grief.

"The LORD is close to the brokenhearted; He rescues those whose spirits are crushed."

Psalm 34:18

World Suicide Prevention Day- September 10th

Hey, everyone!  I just wanted to take a moment to remind all of you that today is World Suicide Prevention Day!  We would be so honored if you would take a moment tonight to light a candle for those we've lost to suicide and place it in your window where it's visible to those outside.  Another GREAT way to spread the word is to write "Love" on your arm.  Some people will ask why and it's the perfect opportunity to spread the word.  "To Write Love on Her Arms" is also asking everyone to change their profile picture and wear orange today to get the word out.  This whole week has been designated as National Suicide Prevention Week so let's keep this up all week long!  Please share this news with your friends so we can finally erase the stigma!  Thanks so much for your support. 

 

 

 

photo credit: Trine Pedersen from World Suicide Prevention Day FB page

If you know of someone who died by suicide, please feel free to share as much or as little as you'd like about them in the comment section.  I will be moderating periodically.  Thanks, again!

Savoring with Sara

With tear-filled eyes, my words fail me but yet I feel compelled to write.  I just finished watching Sara's funeral service by webcast.  What a beautiful tribute to a remarkable woman.  If you haven't seen her youtube clip yet, it is well worth 14 minutes of your time.  She has impacted countless lives by her love for God and her determination to serve Him.  I'm definitely one of them.

For those who haven't heard, Sara passed away in the early morning hours of August 28th.  So many of us prayed, begged, and pleaded with God to keep her here among us.  Not only for our sakes, but for the sake of her family, her husband, and especially...her children.  Two very handsome and adorable little boys.  They will probably miss her most of all.

I've mentioned before how I knew Sara.  We shared some of the same friends and so our paths would cross on occasions when we were both invited to a party, or game night, or fill-in-the-blank.  I remember her as mostly quiet, perhaps a little shy, but always, always kind.  I, on the other hand, had a tendency to talk too much and to speak without weighing my words first.  I think I had a pretty good head on my shoulders in college, but there was definitely a big dose of crazy mixed in, and I'm not talking about the "wacky, zany, so fun-to-be-around" kind of crazy (although I had a sizable dose of that too, at times).  What I'm referring to now was more like the "whoa, what is wrong with that chick?" kind of crazy.  That side of me tended to come out when I least expected it...well, honestly I never expected it.  (Who does?)  Looking back at Sara though, she always seemed emotionally stable and grounded...comfortable in her own skin.

She didn't fear death, only leaving her family behind.  And even then she knew that they would be taken care of in her absence by family and friends.  Still, mothers are unique individuals and not simply replaced.  Please continue to pray for her boys and her husband as they adjust to this new way of life.

I've learned so much from Sara.  She taught me the importance of savoring each day and each moment.  She showed me, through her battle with cancer and her untimely death, the brevity of life and how none of us are promised tomorrow.  In fact, even as I wrote this my daughter came to me wanting tickles, hugs, and kisses.  I stop now to savor those precious opportunities.  I'm still learning this new habit but I catch myself more and more often weighing everything in light of eternity.  I try to seek God's guidance on when to speak and when to keep silent, not always living up to that challenge but always being challenged by the living.

I feel a special connection to Sara even though we weren't very close.  We were in the same season of life together, the same age raising young kids, both the oldest of 3 children, both having one brother and one sister.  Also, she lost Anna and then received her cancer diagnosis a little more than a year after my brother passed away during a time when I was still fighting my way out of that valley...and her trek was just beginning.  She shares a birthday month with Matt, my brother.  She learned of her cancer on her birthday.  I learned of her cancer only a few days before my brother's would-be 30th birthday.  Sara left this earth on August 28th.  My brother left this earth in August, too.  His birthday falls on the 28th.  These dates may not be significant to anyone else but me.  I've always had a thing with numbers so the irony does not escape me.  The lessons I take away from this "coincidence" are:

1. Bad things happen to good people.  None of us are immune. 
2. We are not alone in our struggles.  We need each other.
3. God speaks to us in a variety of ways to comfort and encourage us (if only we will pay attention).
4. None of us know how many days we have on this earth and 
5. God is always present and He cares, regardless of what our circumstances may otherwise suggest.

I'm thankful for Sara and the life that she lived.  I'm thankful that she chose to share her story instead of keeping it hidden.  I'm thankful for her inspiration and will carry that with me for days, weeks, and even years to come.  Thank you, Sara, for teaching us to savor and pointing us to the Savior.  See you in heaven.  Oh!  And tell Matt I love him and look forward to seeing him again! :)

Three Years Ago Today

Three years ago today, my brother was still alive.  Three years ago today, my brother died.  It doesn't seem like that long ago.  Three years ago today, my family's world turned completely upside down in more ways than one.  I've been thinking about writing a book about our (primarily my) journey.  In honor of Matt's angel-versary, I thought I'd share a small portion with you today.  Warning: it's a dark post and this is only the beginning of the story.  There is hope to come and much of the story has yet to happen, much less be written.  Perhaps some of you have lost a loved one to suicide and can relate.  I hope this helps you, not hurts you.  It's a complicated pain like no other I've ever experienced.  I wouldn't wish it upon my worst enemy...and that's the honest truth.

"He's not ok"

I still remember it like it was yesterday.  As I sat in the library blogging about nothing of importance, the librarian approached me, asked my name and told me to call my husband and that it was an emergency.  I walked to the pay phone, worried about what constituted an emergency, yet kept my cool considering I had our only vehicle and perhaps he was just stranded and needed to get somewhere fast.  I was about to dial collect when Justin walked through the door.  I started to say, “Hey, I just got your message.  What’s going on?” but before I’d uttered two words, he was talking over me and walking right past me into the library.

“Where are your things?”

He made it to my work station before I did and quickly shut my laptop and stuffed it into the bag, not even bothering to turn it off first.  I mistook his distress for anger.  “What did I do?  Why is he so angry?” I thought. 

“What’s wrong?  What’s going on?” is all I could say. 

“I’ll tell you outside.  Not in here.”

We walked out the door and that’s when I spotted my uncle Kenny standing in the parking lot waiting for us.  A wave of panic hit me and I immediately thought of our kids.  “Did something happen to them?  Are they ok?  Oh, God, what has happened?  Please, please let them be ok.”  I stopped abruptly and demanded that Justin tell me what was going on. 

“Justin, what is it?  Why is Kenny here?  You’re scaring me!”  I rarely, if ever, use his first name to address him.

His expression softened, and I could see such sadness in his eyes, like he knew what he was about to say would crush me and he couldn’t bear to see it happen.  He was right. 

Squaring my shoulders with his and looking directly into my eyes he said, “Your mom called.  Your brother tried to kill himself.” 

I don’t even know how to describe the feeling that came over me...but I'll try.  Relief that the kids were ok, immediate guilt for thinking that, shock at what I’d just heard, and the inability to comprehend any of it.  Then something in me broke.  Devastation took over.  I lost control and it literally felt like someone (or something) else took over my body.  I watched myself wailing from somewhere up above and was powerless to silence it.  My legs gave out from under me and I fell to my knees. 

I know everyone inside the library must have heard me and I was thankful that my loving husband had the forethought not to tell me inside.  We sat there on the sidewalk, Justin holding me, as I continued to wail, cry, and panic.  Fear gripped my very heart.  A lady walked past us with a look of concern on her face.  She could tell something was terribly wrong, but that stopping to ask might be considered insensitive or intrusive so she continued on her way, careful not to stare.  Such a small thing, but her compassion is remembered.  I think Justin noticed her too and decided it was time to try to get me to the car. 

So sweetly he asked, “Do you think you can stand up?  Do you think you can walk?” 

He helped me up and, in addition to the heavy laptop case, carried most of my weight as I tried to put one foot in front of the other.  It wasn’t until we were standing next to the car that I processed exactly what Justin had said. 

“Wait!  He tried to kill himself, or he did kill himself?”  Maybe this wasn’t as bad as I thought.  Maybe Matt would be ok. 

With a look expressing a wish to tell me what I wanted to hear, he replied, “All I know is what your mom told me.  That’s all she said.” 

Kenny said nothing.  I suppose I knew then; I just didn’t want to believe it.  If Matt were alive, he would know and he would have told me that he was in the hospital somewhere or something to give me even the slightest bit of hope or comfort.

Justin took the keys from me, helped me into the car, and drove to my grandparents’ house.  Kenny followed.  Shaking, trembling, rocking back and forth in the seat and completely unable to keep still, I pleaded with God the entire way, “Oh, God.  Please let him be ok.  Let him be alive.  Please!  Maybe he’s in a coma, maybe he’s badly hurt but please, please, please!  Say he’s still alive!”  As we neared Nana and Papaw’s house, Justin cautioned me to wait for him before I got out of the car, apparently concerned that I may pass out if I got up too fast.  I didn’t listen, though.  As soon as the car stopped I darted out and ran towards the door.  I ran through the breakfast room, into the kitchen and peered at my grandfather who was standing in the den. 

“Is he ok?!” I asked with a desperation that surprised even me. 

With deep sadness Papaw replied, “No, honey.  He’s not ok.”

And there ended the denial; he was gone.  There was no “Well, he’s in critical condition right now” or “I don’t know, honey, we just have to get to the hospital as quickly as possible and find out” or “Your mom will call as soon as she knows something.”  The translation of my grandfather’s “He’s not ok” was “He is dead.”  How did this happen?  Even three years later it still makes no sense to me.  He can’t be gone.  That’s just not possible…But somehow…It is.  At some point amid a flood of tears, a silence fell and quickly broke with my simple, but impossible wish. “I want my brother back.”

 "God's loyal love couldn't have run out,
   his merciful love couldn't have dried up.
They're created new every morning.
   How great your faithfulness!
I'm sticking with God (I say it over and over).
   He's all I've got left."
Lamentations 3:22-24
The Message

God has remained faithful and ever-present with us on this journey and I hope to have the opportunity to share some of those instances with you in time.  He is, and has been, our help in times of trouble.  His faithfulness endures forever.  He is, and has been, our calm among the storm.  His faithfulness endures forever.  We will take heart, for He has overcome the world and nothing is impossible with Him!  His faithfulness endures forever.  Trouble will come, but joy comes in the morning!  His faithfulness endures forever. 

Thank you for taking the time to read this.  May you be encouraged and blessed today.

My Really Random Week

**I've literally spent hours on this post.  I even posted it late last night only to remove it hours later because it just didn't sit well with me.  I'm not sure it's worth all this effort but despite my issues with my "father", I'm still called by God to honor him.  I often talk too much (or type) and I don't wish to gossip or slander anyone.  We all make mistakes.  My father is a part of my testimony so I want to share that, but I also wish to honor God in doing so.  It's been a tough balancing act for me in figuring out how to accomplish that goal.  With that said, here is the post.  I hope I've succeeded in speaking truth when necessary and holding my tongue (or fingers) when unnecessary.


I don't even know where to begin in describing this past week.  It was a real doozy, that's for sure.  Imagine finding out that your biological father was arrested and charged with shooting with intent to kill.  You haven't seen him in over 30 years and the last time you spoke to him on the phone was at least 5 years ago.  He never paid a dime in child support and was basically MIA for your entire childhood.  He wrote you a letter (more like a novel) nearly 20 years ago, just before you graduated from high school, while incarcerated for armed bank robbery and check kiting and for which he still claims his innocence.  He never initiated contact with your younger brother, who is now deceased, and you aren't even sure whether or not he knows that his son is dead...or if he even cares.

Gearing Up for the 5k!

I tell you for sure, gearing up for this 5k has really sent me through some emotional days.  I mean, I'm not just running a 5k.  I'm trying to support a cause that I passionately believe in now due to personal experience.  So naturally, my daily motivation causes me to reflect on what led me to this point...Matt.  Gracious, the devil really knows where to go to try to steal our joy, doesn't he?  Only, he can't take it without our permission.

I don't know how many of you have ever trained for a 5k before but let me tell you...it's exhausting.  I mean, physically, psychologically, and emotionally draining...yet, invigorating too.  It's a great irony, really.  You run and run and run until your body is physically hurting and then your mind starts screaming at you to stop.  Now you're in a psychological battle to keep going.  You have to silence the voice in your head that is telling you you can't, that it's too hard, that you have to quit.  And because you are doing this for very personal reasons, when the battle is over (or sometimes during) your emotions are really raw because exhaustion is one of the few things that makes you let your guard down.  You don't really have much of a choice at that point because you no longer have the energy to "keep it together"...not that you ever could on your own anyway.  Am I making any sense at all??

Weight-loss Milestone!

Ok, I know ladies don't usually share their weight (particularly on social media among potential strangers) but I hit a major milestone today and just have to share.  Hopefully, it will encourage others to not give up!

So many times over the last 6 years or so I've gone through bouts of dieting and exercising.  I would lose several pounds and "hit a wall", then end up gaining back the weight I'd lost.  VERY discouraging. :/  Of course, I put on more weight after Matt died.  I was still hanging on to some baby weight before then, too, so... well, you know.  At my heaviest (on the home scale), I was 214 lbs.  (We all know the doctor's scales add about 15 lbs, right?)  Ugh!  For someone who's ideal weight is somewhere around 135 to 140 lbs, this was totally unacceptable.

Preparation for my first 5k! Stride to Prevent Suicide 2012

Ok, I know it's been a long while since my last exercise update.  Soooo sorry about that.  I'm trying to be more consistent and jump back on the bandwagon...again!  I could rattle off a ton of lame excuses, all true but still lame...spring break, company in town, planning a birthday party, family fights the flu.  Ok, so maybe at least one of those is not so lame. ;)

Anyway, I just wanted to let all of you know that I am now training for my first 5k!  Searcy is hosting a Stride to Prevent Suicide 5k and 1 mile Fun Run/Walk.  Justin and I are going to run in honor of my brother, Matthew Austin Seabolt, who most of you know died by suicide on August 13, 2009.  If you live in this area and would like to join our team, let me know!  If you live out of town and would like to participate as a "Spirit Runner", that would be great too (It comes with a t-shirt)!  A team registration saves each individual adult $10 off the registration fee so if you're interested, get your money and registration form to me as soon as possible so I can send them all in together.  They are also having a memorial butterfly release which I'm really looking forward to watching.  Butterflies and dragonflies carry deeper personal and spiritual meaning for me now.  They comfort me when I see them because I feel a closer connection to God and Matt when one catches my eye.  My family has released butterflies in Georgia on Matt's angelversary, too, so this is another way to feel closer and more connected with them over so many miles.

The Theological Threes

I had an interesting lunch conversation with my darling 3 year old today.  It started with the usual torrent of questions, only this time the questions were a bit more difficult to answer and explain.  Justin and I try to be very honest in how we answer our children's questions while also trying to maintain age appropriateness.  That's a challenging task sometimes but we feel that it's important in providing them with a sense of security, safety, and trust in us, their parents.  Our philosophy is, "Reality is your friend."  I suppose another way of saying that is, "The truth will set you free."  With that in mind, here's today's dialogue:

Ankle Pain is Gain

I twisted my ankle tonight while delivering popcorn.  I knew I should have taken the sidewalk around instead of going through the courtyard...at night.  *sigh*  Anytime I have pain in my ankle, I think of my brother, Matt.  I know that sounds strange but I think you'll understand a little more after I tell you this story...

When I was a freshman at Lipscomb University, I participated in Singarama.  For those of you who are unfamiliar with Singarama, it's the Harding equivalent of Spring Sing or the Abilene Christian University equivalent of Sing Song...only better. (Sorry, HU and ACU friends.  I gotta stay true to my Alma Mater. ;) ) For those of you not familiar with any of those, it's basically a time when the majority of students on campus either choose or are assigned to a specific group, given a topic, and then write a story line with accompanying songs, choreography, props, costumes, etc.  The group performs and competes with other groups for bragging rights in front of a panel of judges and a live audience.  It's like watching 3 mini-musicals, really.  And it's SO much fun!!  If you'd like to know more, you can visit this page for a more detailed description of what this year's Singarama was like.

Anyway, you may be thinking that I twisted my ankle while performing with my group but you'd be wrong.  I actually made it through all the choreography and scene changes without injury.  So, what really happened?  We had a cast party at a skating rink after our final performance.  (Now, you're getting the picture.)  My family naturally drove up from Georgia to see the show and went skating with us afterwards, at least my high-school freshman brother did. lol  It is important to note here that my brother was a fantastic athlete and the sport really didn't matter much.  He played baseball, basketball, could ride a dirt bike and speed skate.  It's like he was fearless when it came to a competitive sport, whether he had any prior experience with it or not.  (Remind me to tell you sometime about the time he drove an ATV into the Raintree Village pond...on Christmas day!)

So, the d.j. at the rink decides it's time for some races.  He called the boys up and I see my brother on the starting line, ready to pounce!  I was pretty sure he was going to win before they even started.  Not necessarily because he was so much better than anyone else out there physically.  He was just determined.  It was written all over his face that night.  No one else stood a chance.  Know what he won?  A cute little stuffed animal.  Know who he gave it to?  Me. :D

Now picture this:  The race is over, the rink is an all-skate once again and I'm minding my own business skating around the rink at a nice, steady, comfortable pace.  It's important to note here that I was NOT as fantastic an athlete and the sport really didn't matter much.  Matt, trying to be cute, comes up behind me and grabs my arm going about mach 2 with his hair on fire.  So, guess what?  Now, I'm going mach 2 with my hair on fire except I don't have the control that he does.  After my begging, he finally lets me go but by that time we were rounding a corner and one that I just could not make.  I was going too fast.  My ankle gave out underneath me and I smacked the edge of the rink and went flying into the lobby area.  You know, the carpeted place with the little circle benches where people sit and the lockers are lined up against the wall?  Yeah, that.  I couldn't even stand up and my ankle quickly became the size of a melon.  Matt was one of the first people over there to help me.  He felt just awful.  I mean absolutely awful about the whole thing.  He just kept saying, "Aw, I'm sorry, Steph.  I'm just so sorry.  I didn't mean to.  I really didn't.  Aw man, I'm so sorry."  How could I be mad at him?  Particularly when he was truly apologetic.  It hurt.  I ain't gonna lie but then again, I was still on a rush.  That was the fastest I had ever gone around a skating rink!  Scary as you-know-where but, man!  What a thrill!  (Until the crash and burn part, of course.)

He and some other guys carried me out.  I really don't think that was entirely necessary.  I mean, I couldn't put pressure on that leg, that was for sure, but they wouldn't even let me try to stand upright.  I had to go to the doctor the next business day and he advised me to stay off that leg for at least 3 weeks.  Well, that wasn't going to work.  I was going on a choral mission trip in a matter of days.  He told me to wear crutches, then.  Like I was going on a plane and traipsing around England and Scotland on crutches??  I don't think so.  Pass.  (Yes, I'm stubborn and bull-headed.  You want to make something of it? ;) )  We settled for keeping it wrapped and putting as little pressure on it as possible...staying off my feet and elevating my leg whenever possible.  He also prescribed a pain reliever which I was happy to take.

My ankle never fully recovered from that incident.  It hasn't left a daily affliction or anything and I can still run but it has always been temperamental since then.  That accident happened nearly 16 years ago but it left a mark, probably until the end of time.  It feels sore sometimes, achy, for what seems like no reason at all.  Maybe it's a change in barometric pressure or something.  Who knows?  It still gives out on me sometimes like tonight when my step is just a little off.  The pain used to really annoy me (and still does sometimes) but I have a new appreciation for it now that Matt has gone home to be with Jesus.  Whenever my ankle starts acting up, I remember Matt and I remember that night.  I remember that exhilarating moment of going mach 2 before crashing and burning and how scary yet thrilling it was at the same time.  I remember the smile on his face and later, the concern.  I'm also reminded with every throb that one day there will be no more pain.  No death.  No sorrow.  Everything will be made new.  I'm thankful for my personal reminder of that promise.  And I'm thankful for the memory so closely tied to it.  Isn't it amazing how God can take these "accidents" and these "afflictions" and make them beautiful?  joyful?  Wow.  How does He do that?  I'm reminded of the story of Jacob wrestling with God.  I wonder what Jacob (Israel) thought about his limp after that encounter.  It was wearisome, I have no doubt, but the man wrestled with God! ...and lived!!  What a wonderful reminder of God's grace wrapped in a lesson of humility.  I'm thankful for my precious brother and the mark he left on me for life.  I'm thankful for my precious LORD and the mark He left on me for eternity.

Miss You More Than I Can Say

I've been thinking about Matt so much today and by extension, my nephews. How I miss them all!

Matty, I wanted to call you today and say, "Man, your nephews and niece looked so cute today. How are MY nephews doing? Oh! And I ran into your friend, Bobby!" I think you would have liked hearing that. I sure do miss you, Bro. You are forever in my heart and I will treasure the short time I had with you on this earth. I find comfort in knowing that this parting isn't permanent. I carry you with me wherever I go and await the day when we're together again. Love, Deedubber

"Death is nothing at all

I have only slipped away into the next room

I am I and you are you

Whatever we were to each other

That we are still

Call me by my old familiar name

Speak to me in the easy way you always used

Put no difference into your tone

Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow

Laugh as we always laughed

At the little jokes we always enjoyed together

Play, smile, think of me, pray for me

Let my name be ever the household word

that it always was

Let it be spoken without effort

Without the ghost of a shadow in it

Life means all that it ever meant

It is the same as it ever was

There is absolute unbroken continuity

What is death but a negligible accident?

Why should I be out of mind

Because I am out of sight?

I am waiting for you for an interval

Somewhere very near

Just around the corner

All is well.

Nothing is past; nothing is lost

One brief moment and all will be as it was before."