Tag Archives: heart

Still Believing

I am speaking to my own heart today, I am telling it to listen carefully, don’t shut down heart, don’t tune out this time. I’m yet not sure it’s listening, but I’m giving it a go. It wants to shy away, to sit in the back, to not be noticed as it wonders why. Why?

Why?

A long time after grief began, I found a smile on my face and I felt a sigh. It was a deep, relief filled sigh that I had indeed found hope again. Stress and anxiety lifted slowly, gratefulness for this hope grew and a respect for life heightened.

But I forgot a very important fact… Life still goes on and it’s not all happy. It’s not always as it should be, grief returns, people get sick, and hard, hard days are still part of life. It’s as if there’s some arthritis from the wound, it’s healed, I can walk, but it left some decay behind. So when conditions aren’t right, I feel it again. Agony. Cancer shouldn’t be able to touch my loved ones again, but it does. The agony of losing should be a thing of the past, but it’s not. My heart should not have to feel this again, but that’s just not realistic. Life, the good and the bad still march on whether I am prepared for it or not.

But why? 

Is God still good?

Is He a carer of my soul?

Is He really all powerful?

Can I trust Him?

Does He really want the best for me?

Is He even listening?  

I’ve learnt to answer “Yes” and yes there is sickness and death and horrid things that should never happen. Yes it doesn’t seem fair (don’t even get me started on that one!). But I still believe it through pain and when it’s hard. Why?

Why?

It’s nothing to do with a survey, it’s not a feeling, but a discipline of belief I can be sure of. Doubt surfaces for sure, and many questions race around my brain but at the end of the day I know there’s a whisper inside that knows hope will still come around the corner. There is a “however” on the end of the sentence that invites my heart to know there is something more.

There is more to death than grief, there is an eternity spent pain free in a better place. There is another side to hard times as we pull together and unite around common concern. There is another side to loss if I choose it. I can choose to add new people, new family, new love…if I choose. It’s not what I imagined in the beginning but it’s still good if I choose it.

I know by now that there are many, many questions in life that cannot be answered, won’t be answered, I don’t like that. That those “why’s” are not answered how I would like them to be and some days are just plain hard. If I make my heart listen it might bleed. If I summon it out of the fog it will need to go through reality before it can see hope. I cannot hear the whisper if I ignore the reason for hearing it. I cannot feel the relief until I know the pain.

When I walk with a limp I protect my wound, my broken limb, my pain from the blows of the world. When my heart hurts I protect it too. I put on my brave face, I distract conversation away from the pain and I keep in the shallows away from the deep stirrings that probe too much. I still don’t like the pain. I’m still a person. So I’m trying “however” on the end of lifes’ sentences. However, the treatment might be good. However, we are loved. However, there is yet hope. I’m hoping God is there in the however, planted firmly in between the pain and the hope that lies beyond. I’m not looking for new answers to all the hard questions, I’m choosing to keep believing what I began believing before grief began.

I’m praying my and my loved ones hearts understand. Understand we are loved, understand we know it hurts and understand we are all in this together. I’m praying we hear the whispers of hope over the noise of the why’s.

I’m praying. 

Hope.

MI Rainbow blessings getty


Waiting

Waiting-For-You-Hd-Desktop-Wallpaper

 

Waiting waiting, waiting. I am impatient and stubborn by nature, waiting is murder for me. But at least when I’m waiting in anticipation for a something, an end in sight, there is hope. In this new chapter as a widow, (I still find that word hard to swallow), I don’t know what to wait for. What’s supposed to happen now? I have never been one to go along aimlessly, and it seems absurd to do that now, especially now. Yet try as I might, I cannot conjure a purpose up on my own.

I’m ruined you see. Ruined to ever just live in order to buy a new TV or whatever computer gadget comes out next. When I was 16 I made a choice; a choice to no longer live another moment just for myself. But to live the life I had for a higher purpose, a life and heart surrendered. A plan that was not my own. I believed God created me and knew what was best for me.

But I have a confession.

My higher purpose was interrupted when my love died. Like the internet went down and the download had to start again. How annoying is that! My trust in God slipped and caused a break in the connection, it’s repairable, but it will cost me.  Not in money, but in the vulnerability of my heart. To let the walls of self-protection down and allow the same God that took my love away to lead me again is a bigger ask now than ever before.  To trust someone, anyone, with the control of my life after such a catastrophic disappointment seems like asking for heartache. But I’m believing it won’t be. I’m believing, deep breath now, that life can not only be happy again, but full and purposeful.

So I’m waiting.

Waiting for the connection to be strong enough once again to handle the gigabytes of life yet to come my way. New things, old things renewed, who knows. But I want them, I really do. So every day I will choose to open my heart to God, the Creator of the universe, and trust Him with all that I am, and all that I am yet to be.

Let’s see what happens. Let’s see what life after death looks like.

Waiting.


Love with a Wounded Heart

I still remember the feel of your kiss. Your lips, your prickles, your nose in the way. I remember the warmth of my lips in the crook of your neck. ..I miss the warmth of my lips in the crook of your neck. I see it and I can almost breathe you in still. I remember it now, but will I always? I don’t know.

Don’t slip away from me, stay.

I know what I ask is impossible; I just want it to be possible. I know I need to feel love again. I am so sore from the aching, so full of callouses from the scar tissue that used to be my heart. This should only be a post-operative complication, but I fear, oh I fear, its more and without treatment it could be fatal. I only know one course of treatment for that my Paul, you knew it too. Complete cardiac intervention by the Best of the best. By the Creator Himself. He knows its workings intimately. The treatment is love. I cannot see any other way.

To love with a wounded heart, push the boundaries, and rehabilitate the possibilities for life.


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