When Psalm 23 Runs Right Into the Real of My Day

Psalm 23

The Lord is the one who totally has me, I lack nothing.
²     He tells me to rest and be restored, to feed my body, heart, and spirit,
he has places for me to be still and listen and simply enjoy His presence,
³     he refreshes my inmost being, to the very core.
He guides in the exact places I need to go because He is totally amazing.
⁴ Even though I walk
    through the valley of ear infections, lack of sleep, and physical pain,
I refuse to be shaken from my faith that He has it all taken care of,
    because He makes His presence obvious, He’s proven Himself faithful, and I know he never leaves me;
knowing You are the one who fights for me and leads me in the path you’ve cleared allows me to walk in peace and comforts me when I hear the sound of the war around me.

⁵ You give me all the good stuff even when the enemy rages against me.
 You anoint my head with oil;
    my cup overflows.
You choose me over and over and over. Every second of my life, You choose me, and I am overwhelmed with how good you are to me and the way You cover me and stand on my behalf.
⁶ Surely your goodness and love will follow me
    all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord
    forever.

"Sometimes It's Just Gonna Be Me and Him"

"Have learned that even the wellest meaning can't be in crisis mode 24/7...even if you are. Sucks to know that. It's a harsh reality. But when no one else can that's when I've had to remember that God can. Sometimes He uses people. Sometimes it's just gonna be me and Him."

Yes, sometimes it is just going to be Him and me, and frankly, sometimes those seem to be the absolute hardest times. You would think He could send someone at the absolute hardest times, wouldn’t you?

Except, sometimes in the absolute hardest times what I really need is just Him.

There is a level of honesty I can reach with Him when it is just the two of us that I don’t reach when people are around. I can say what I want to and not have to wrap it in acceptable language. I can feel whatever I really feel and not have to worry that others are uncomfortable. I can be core-honest with Him when I can’t with others.

You know how sometimes when it’s just you and God and you hurt worse than you could ever imagine and it feels like your heart is being ripped out of your chest? Well, that is pretty accurate for what is going on.

When I’m alone with God, it gives Him the chance to reach deep, way deep, deeper than my human consciousness may want to go to touch the thing that is hurting me the most. He doesn’t waste time with symptoms. He doesn’t play hide and seek. He goes right to the heart of the wound.

The Bible says the Spirit leads me into all truth (John 16:13). It also says I will know the truth and the truth will set me free (John 8:32). I will never be healed without the truth of what happened and my interpretation of it. I have to acknowledge what happened first. Then I have to acknowledge how I feel about it and how it defined me mentally and emotionally. Then I have to let God redefine me and live in HIS definition.

There is no person who can do that for me.

Plus, for those of us who stand strong no matter what slams them, for those who have learned to perform, for those who have learned to breathe anyway, for those who have become experts at keeping the stuff that might weaken us locked away…we need someone to find us. We need someone to walk into the soul-cellar and find the Pandora’s box that we keep hidden so no one else sees it. That is what being alone just God and me allows.

I often refer to the things that keep us imprisoned as ‘monsters’. When I’m alone with God, He pulls me to a place of honesty about the monsters that I cannot reach with a person.

And, yes, it does feel like the absolute worst I’ve gone through because at that moment I am at monster pain ground zero. This is the epicenter of the anguish.

The Bible says the Jesus is the Mighty Counselor and Prince of Peace (Isaiah 9:6). No counselor is going to have a soul deep session with a patient in a food court in the mall. There is no way a person can be honest about deep soul hurts in that setting. Instead, the counselor offers a private place that is safe and serves as a refuge. Jesus does the same thing.

 

He gets me alone in a place where I feel safe, usually my bedroom, and He listens to me cry and scream and talk and hurt. While I'm pouring all this out, because remember out of the heart the mouth speaks (Matthew 12:34), the Lord digs out the deep things of the heart, the stuff in my soul-cellar that I had either hidden so well I had forgotten about it or I didn’t realize how much or in what way it affected me.

As I said, these are excruciating times. I always hated that worst-pain-ever –and-God-is-the-only-one-who-showed-up times, but they are necessary for healing.

 

And I am learning instead of screaming about how much it hurts and how bad I hate it, what honestly helps is to ask, “What do you need me to see? What do you want to expose? How do I work with you for the healing?”

It still hurts like hell, but by asking Him to show me the “monster”, I’m opening the door for Him to show me how to defeat it, and that allows me to get beyond it. As horribly nightmarish as it may feel, facing the monster is part of getting through the pain. Until I am willing to face the monster, I’m not going through, I’m stuck in, and the pain never gets better.

I thank God for every person He has sent into my life who has helped with the healing in the last 2 ½ years. They have been valiant warriors who have fought with me and over me, and I don’t know how we would have come through without them. Honestly, I think we couldn’t have. I believe they were essential, which is why God put them there.

However, some monsters can’t be fought by even the fiercest warrior friend. In fact, those warrior friends can actually try so hard to protect me and make me feel better, they actually hinder the healing because they don’t let me fight the monsters I need to fight or I’m afraid to be really honest about the monsters that are out there. Sometimes it is necessary for those friends to step off the battlefield and let me face the real monsters that are keeping me in prison.

Those "just God and me" moments aren't God's carelessness or His thoughtlessly not providing someone to be there with me. It is part of His necessary plan to get me alone so He can deal with monsters I can't deal with any other way. I'm learning to consciously know when God is all I have, it isn't just that He is all I need. It's that I specifically need Him only.

The Blessing of Others Outside the 24/7 Crisis Mode

"Have learned that even the wellest meaning can't be in crisis mode 24/7...even if you are. Sucks to know that. It's a harsh reality."

First of all, I applaud the courage to say this! Isn't this the absolute truth?!

And, you are right. No one can be in crisis mode 24/7, but I've learned that is a gift.

Sometimes when people aren't in crisis mode, if I give myself permission to step into their reality, it helps me. Either things get in perspective, or I just get a reprieve. Either is good.

For instance, I've had several times when I've called someone and said, "Just tell me about your day."

My closest friends now know that is my code for, "Really hard day. Need to step out of me so I can breathe and step back into it with a clearer mind and less emotion, so I need to step into you."

Usually, they start with, "Well, I did this mundane thing, which was followed by some other mundane thing, and then you won't believe how absurd this other wholly mundane thing was," and I listen and laugh, and we end up talking about all kinds of things. It feels so good to my soul.

When we are done, whatever was slamming me is usually not as bad because I'm not in emotion anymore. Emotion never handled a problem or allowed for healing. Emotions are indicators, not responders. If you want to actually deal with something, you have to think it through and respond. A clear mind is a powerful weapon when crisis comes.

Taking time to step out of the emotion can give the mind time to start grabbing truth, get a solid footing, and stand up to whatever is happening.

Having people who are not in the crisis gives me a chance to step outside of it, too, which allows me to think of how to respond instead of just react.

It's a great thing.

And you may be wondering how to do that. Simple. You choose.

Just like choosing to walk in out of the rain.

If you are walking down a street and it is pouring rain, you are going to get sopping wet. Now, you choose to stop by and say hello to some friends because you want a moment not to be rained on, and they invite you in to warm up by the fire. You walk in and stand by the fire. ENJOY THE FIRE. You aren't in there because you have to be. You aren't in there because your friends need you to be. You are in there because your friends have a fire they want to share with you. ENJOY THE FIRE.

Yes, I know you are still sopping wet, and it is still raining, and you still have a long way to walk.

But for right then, that moment ENJOY THE FIRE.

When I make those phone calls to friends or a friend offers to take me to paint, see a play, etc., I have a chance to step out of the rain and get warm by the fire. I choose not to think about the rain outside. I choose to focus on something good in that moment.

 

Part of healing is forcing the pain to yield to some happy.

And, yes, I have hurt so badly that no matter how 'happy' things were, I always felt the undercurrent of pain raging below the thin ice where I stood. I remember thinking I was never really happy, and I wasn't, not like I was before God shook up my life etcha-sketch. And there were times I hurt so much for what I had lost I couldn't feel joy for what others had. I think that is pretty normal, but, I refused to stay there.

I tried to focus on one thing that brought a smile to my face. I would pray fervently, "God, help me be happy for this person." I clung to anything that felt "better".

Sometimes, that is all a fire can do--make it better, but make the choice to enjoy the better. Sometimes you have to mentally fight to recognize that moment of better, but it is worth it. YOU are worth it.

And you are worth stepping out of crisis and enjoying the reprieve.

It's not escaping. It's catching your breath, and taking time to get off the battlefield with others who help you think about anything but the crisis raging in you is vital to being able to stay in the fight.

I know. There is a voice in the back of your head that calls it abandonment and disinterest, but I've learned that voice lies a lot.

Maybe God didn't put anyone in your crisis with you because He knew you needed to step out of your crisis for a bit and be with them.

And when the war is raging, a reprieve is a wondrous blessing.

Because Sometimes It Takes Thinking Like a Marine to Heal

When a man or woman joins the Marine Corps, he or she enters boot camp. For the next 13 weeks these men and women have one purpose: learn to be a Marine.

Their way of thinking is addressed. Their way of acting is corrected. Their entire mentality and identity is altered so that when they leave boot camp, they live in such a way as to bring honor to the USMC.

These weeks are imperative in the making of a Marine. It is simply impossible to be a Marine without them. While these men and women are in boot camp, no one is bashing them for not being in a war zone shooting a gun. No one is telling them how they are failing the Corps because they are not covering someone's back. No one is trashing them for only in training.

People are praying for them to succeed. Their instructors are working with them to become the best they possibly can be, usually even better than they thought they could be. People are proud of them for making the choice to think beyond themselves, to see a bigger picture, to look beyond the right now...to see the possibilities of a better life for themselves and for others.

No one considers boot camp a waste of time.

On the contrary, boot camp is essential to stepping out of the present and into the possible.

What does boot camp have to do with healing? Everything.

Because if you heal correctly...
...the way you see yourself changes.
...the way you think changes.
...the way you act changes.
...the conviction of purpose is born.

When you heal well, you no longer see yourself as a victim or as weak. You know longer see a screw up who always gets it wrong. You no longer define yourself by others attitudes, actions, and words.

Instead you realize...

You are strong.
You are essential.
You have the power to change how YOU act.
You choose to define yourself.
You define yourself according to the value God gave you and according to how HE sees you.
You choose how you respond to people and situations.
You set yourself free from the prison of the lies that have kept you chained to brokenness and allow yourself the freedom to investigate and enjoy being the masterpiece God made you to be.

You no longer see what was or has been.

You see what can be.

 

THAT is what healing does.

Healing allows you to step out of the present

and

into the possible.
 

Unfortunately, it usually takes more than 13 weeks, but when you reach the other side and realize how far you've come and you are so thrilled with this person you've become and so proud of the battles you've won...then you know...you didn't waste your time all. You invested it in you.

Time Well Spent--Part 1, What Does It Look Like

Time from the moment we walked into the ER until my daughter was released after emergency surgery--24 hours.

I had plans for those 24 hours. It was the week before Thanksgiving, and I was going to bake pumpkin bread for neighbors, make pie to freeze for Thanksgiving dinner, clean the house, grocery shop, and other really important things. We all know what Thanksgiving is supposed to look like, and these things were necessary for that to happen, so these were very important things to get done. After all, what happens if we don't do life like it's supposed to be done, like others expect it to be done? What happens when others look at us and expect us to be doing Thanksgiving when we are just thankful to...be healing?

I'll tell you what happens because I know what happens.

Life goes on.

The world does not end because there is no turkey on the table. The revolution around the sun continues whether there is cranberry sauce or not. Peanut butter sandwiches keep the orbit in groove as well as left over ham sandwiches do.

Life goes on.

What do people think? Frankly, most folks don't think about it at all. I feel very confident that well over 99% of the people on this planet never gave one thought to our Thanksgiving. We just aren't that important on a global scale. Of the people who did think about us, there were most likely three groups: the group who were glad all of us were home and healing on Thanksgiving, the group who thought about how to help us heal, and the group who thought about how our healing inconvenienced them.

The real issue--what really has any impact at all on me--is what I think.

I think the people who rejoiced that my daughter was healing are a gift.
I think the people who asked how to help the healing did more for us in the grocery runs, dinner drop-offs, and transportation than they can know.
I think the people who find us inconvenient spend enough time thinking about themselves and their lives that they are covered and I need not expend my energy--mental or emotional--on them.
And...

I think healing is time well spent.

God's Rushing Heart

Under the weather with this sinus gunk that seems to desire a long term relationship despite my best breakup efforts. While I recuperate....

Heart deep wisdom from WonderBoy's rushing heart....

"You know you feel God rush around in your heart when you see that there are little $1.00-$4.00 trinkets, 90% off, and you can imagine little kids, smiling, laughing, and playing with them."

Is your heart rushing?

Finding Relevance

I have just finished scheduling part eleven--ELEVEN--of a series about grief and helping and support and...there is so much more running through my mind, but there are already ELEVEN posts. Is it really smart to write MORE?!

Seems sort of hyperfocused to me. Not my idea of a topic to read a large audience, and surely God wants to reach a large audience. He wants His word out, right? And yet, every time I sit down--or just try to sleep--this topic about grief and helping others in the midst of loss or trauma sits right in the forefront of my mind...so I keep writing...and I'm wondering...

What am I doing?!

My mind worries.

What if in the next 11 scheduled posts people find me depressing or babble-some? What if readers begin to suspect my closest neighbor has a perpetual cloud over him and has a hard time keeping up with his tail? What if people decide I am wholly NOT undaunted? What if people see no reason to keep reading?

What if people don't find these ELEVEN posts relevant?

What He keeps speaking to me is that numbers are not relevant.

The Lord sometimes feeds multitudes, but it wasn't a crowd standing around a well at happy hour that had His heart. It was one woman who walked up when the sun was hot so no one would see.

When He walked into that graveyard, He wasn't looking for an adoring crowd. He was looking for a man who needed to find sanity in a crazy world.

It wasn't about the numbers.

It was about a lonely woman at a well who had succumbed to public opinion...only to find out Jesus' opinion is the only one that mattered...and a man in a graveyard who had succumbed to the craziness of this world...who found out real sanity is found in Christ alone.

Being found is always relevant.

A Better Answer--Part 7, The Power of Accepting Another Reality

I spent three days mostly in tears.

I made the mistake of telling someone who promptly said, "Jerri, you need to get on meds and go to a counselor. Three days of crying is not normal."

I agree. In HER world where her husband who is wonderful comes home from work, her mom lives close enough to drop by for dinner, she is successful in her career, and she thinks she has control of time it would be extremely abnormal for her to cry for three days. Anyone who has a life like hers and cries a lot would be concerning.

However, I wasn't living her life.

I was living a life that included children grieving their dad with the anger, sadness, and insomnia that includes, a family that had disintegrated, the attempt to figure out what was real in 19 years of marriage, being alone ALL THE TIME, working through an estate, and a whole slew of other things. AND I was trying to do it by myself because I was infinitely tired of the suggestion of counseling and drugs to make me happy enough for public acceptance.

In MY world, grief and all that it entails was normal. Crying on any given day over any given thing was normal. However, it did not fit into HER world, and she didn't take time to understand mine.

She never asked what made me sad. She never asked how she could help. She never offered to listen. Instead, she demanded I do whatever it took to fit back into her world and her comfort zone.

What she did not seem to realize is I had no way to fit into her comfort zone because I no longer lived in her world.

Imagine if life as you knew it were gone forever. Imagine if your routine, the key people in your life, the way you lived, the security you had, even the idea you actually controlled what would happen tomorrow or later today were gone. Imagine if your reality...was a vague memory covered in the dust of major devestation.

Imagine this with me:
...no more Lego building with Daddy
...no more father/daughter dances or dates
...the texts/emails/calls never coming again
...imagine the inside jokes...that only belong to you now
...dinner coming and the empty chair that won't be filled when Daddy gets home from his business trip
...no more date nights
...8:00 o'clock coming EVERY SINGLE NIGHT...and you watch your favorite shows...alone

Need I go on?

Insert your own imaginations. Whether it be a spouse, a child, a parent, a sibling, a best friend...the person(s) who makes your lifescape what it is.

Imagine taking that person out of the lifescape, what is left untouched?

Anything?

Now imagine people expecting you to act as though nothing has really changed.

Welcome to reality.

Do you think you would be happy? Do you think you could face each day with a smile? Do you really think you could walk in a closet where your spouse's clothes used to hang or down the hall where your child's laughter used to come through the door...and be "normal"?

Or do you think you might be angry? You might be confused? You might have questions? You might just want to go to bed and not get up? That particular songs, clothing, or days would send you tumbling into the reality that nothing can ever be "normal" again?

How do you think you would feel if someone told you not to feel that way?

How do you think you would feel if someone told you not to cry, to get over it, move on, or focus on what you have? How do you think you would feel if someone suggested the children that are still living should make you feel less loss about the one who has died? How would you feel if someone quoted scripture about not having a right to be angry, not having the right to ask questions, not having a right to be sad?

What if you had the flu and someone told you the Bible says to be joyful in all trials because trials produce all those good things, therefore, you should be joyful you have the flu? Or what if you are to give thanks in all things, so you should give thanks for being worthy to have the flu? What if someone told you to not whine about the aches or fever or vomiting that makes every muscle in your body hurt? What if they told you to get out of bed and act like all was fine because really, this is so inconvenient for everyone else? Would you think they really understood what it meant to have the flu? Would it cross your mind that if you sneezed their direction, a small case of the flu might help them understand YOUR reality?

Or would you want them to understand your misery, understand the pain, understand that in the midst of aching all over physically and mentally you feel like it is never going to get better? Would you want them to understand that you hate that this has happened to you and you might be angry or confused by how intense the suffering is?

Would you possibly just want someone to understand?

Would you want someoen to ask how you are? What you need? How they could help?

Would you want them to reply without judgment of the accuracy of your feelings, thoughts, or desires? Would you want them to simply accept your answer without tleling you how correct or appropriate for the situation it was or how you compared to other who have had a cold?

Would you want them to simply accept you as you were for that moment knowing if given time and the right care you will heal?

Here is the reality check:
Flu reality is in a whole other league from normal, everyday annoyances reality.
Loss and grief reality is a whole other world.

It is wholly unrealistic to expect people living in those worlds to act as though they were in yours.

If you want to have a relationship or want to support them,

 you have to accept them where they are, as they are.

The goal is not to help them find their way back to your reality because they can't.

It will never happen.

The goal is to help them through the grief so they can build life in theirs.

A Better Answer--Part 5, The Power of Credibility

It was WonderGirl's first time back at youth since her dad had died, and the sermon that night just happened to be about honoring fathers and their being the unquestionable head of the house. For WonderGirl, this was a double whammy. First of all, she no longer had a living father, and second, he had chosen to walk out on his family so he could "be happy". The topic of fathers was not a good one for her, and the idea of honoring a father who abandoned his family...yeah, not really.

When the pastor asked the young people to raise their hands for comments or questions, WonderGirl's hand went up. When he pointed to her, she said she thought honor was earned, and some fathers didn't earn it. The pastor told her he didn't care what the father had done. He should be honored and given authority over the house.

WonderGirl cared.

When she got to the car, she was just about beside herself. She was livid, and and she was hurt. By the time the door closed beside her, she was in tears. She unleashed the entire 30 minute drive home. I listened.

When we got home, she went to her room to work things out with God, and I posted on social media an explanation of what had occurred and asked for prayer.

One of the women took that opportunity to tell me I was coddling my daughter and allowing her to walk in anger, that I was allowing her--even encouraging her--to wallow in anger, and we needed to get over it.

As tactfully and calmly as possible, I informed this person that I didn't know how she could make a statement based on blips on a social media page, that there is a whole story she didn't know. She replied that she didn't know what was happening the rest of the time. She was only going by what she saw online, and based on that, she had given her opinion.

My point exactly.

She didn't know what was going on the rest of the time. She never called. She never emailed personally. She never texted. She never messaged. She made no effort to contact us or be part of our lives in anyway beyond the blips of the media page, but that was enough for her to make judgments--and they were judgments--about our hearts, our feelings, our thoughts, and our healing.

I deleted her from my list of friends online. Then I deleted her from my phone and my email.

And I didn't miss her .

Earlier this week I was talking to a friend about the family, and she was asking me about different aspects of life. Specifically, she asked me about the possibility of my dating or having a relationship, and we talked. It is a personal topic, and she knows it, but I also know her heart. I know it because she has walked the hard road with us. She has listened and loved through the ugliest. She has handled honesty I wouldn't put on anyone else. She has proven herself with phone calls, cards, texts, and coffee. She knows the story because she has walked it with me.

When she shared her thoughts on my lack of dating and lack of relationship, it wasn't someone tossing out a personal opinion based on her own filter. It was my heart friend looking closely at my children and me and being concerned for us.

And I listened.

And today as my mind has rolled her words over and over and sorted through thoughts and feelings that popped up while I went through boxess of family pictures and keepsakes, she is the one I texted.

When it comes to helping people on a personal level, there had better be a relationship.

If there isn't, the person will see the "concerned advice giver" as a judgmental busybody who is invading space where they are not welcome. They will not receive the person or advice as a blessing. Instead, they will reject the person and their words with a curse because the person is not speaking to them or their lives. They are simply giving their filtered opinion based on something having nothing to do with the hurting person.

Trust has not been established. Obviously there is no respect.

Honestly, it comes across as arrogance, and arrogance is never helpful.

A few months ago I served as a victim for an emergency response drill. While we were waiting for the drill to start, a female victim and I struck up conversation. While talking, the fact Rob had died came out, and she asked if I were dating anyone. No--and before I could say anything else, she informed me I shouldn't date anyone till the kids were grown, and they didn't need to lose another parent, and I owe my kids--

My palm shot out in a clear, "Stop right there," fashion.

"Excuse me, but you don't know me. You don't know my family. You obviously have no clue what you are talking about."

"Well, I just think--"

"I don't care what you think. I have no reason to care what you think. And you have no reason to think you have a right to dictate to me how to live or how to care for my kids."

You don't know.
You don't know my family.
You don't know how we live.
You don't know our story.
You don't care enough to learn it.
That means you don't care about us,
so why in the world should I care about your thoughts, feelings, or advice?

 If the best you have to offer is opinions from the cheap seats, keep your opinions to yourself. Be helpful by not being hurtful.

If you really want to help on a personal level, you have to get on the level of the person. Invest in the person. Write the texts. Send the cards. Clean the house. Buy the coffee. Listen.

Instead of saying you care, SHOW you care. Otherwise, they won't care at all.

Necessary Blessings

My daughter is wheeled out of the ER, and I watch her go. I cannot go with her, so the nurse stays with me.

We wait for her to return and for the results of the CT, and we talk about the changes in medicine.

"If it is her appendix, they might be able to treat it with antibiotics," Sandra, an answer-to-prayer RN, says. "In the past, we've taken out tonsils and appendix and anything else we didn't think was necessary, but we don't do that now. We are far more conservative. We assume if it is there, there is a reason, even if we don't know what it is."

I nod. "If it wasn't necessary, God wouldn't have put it there."

She smiles. "Exactly. Who knows why that appendix is there? If it is there simply to teach her empathy, it is necessary."

The words sink deep.

"If it is there simply to teach her empathy, it is necessary."

Isn't that it? Our whole purpose on this planet? The reason for this stop in the road of eternity?

I've been one who claimed the verses of blessing, declared the prosperity of adopted status. I've been the one who said as the child of the King I am entitled to more, but the greatest of the Sons came not to be served but to serve, to give Himself, to live a life for others.

Is that not the real purpose? To become the blessing?

We pray, "Lord, use me," but we expect Him to leave our comfort zones alone.

Instead, He takes us at our word...the one that says, "Use me. Mold me. Make me what I need to be for you. Be You through me."

And He touches our jobs.
And He touches our families.
And He touches our finances.
And He touches our teenage daughters' appendix.

He sits with us through unemployment.
He sits with us through divorce.
He sits with us through bankruptcy.
He sits with us during emergency surgery in the early hours of the morning.

And sometimes things turn out the way we want, and sometimes--God help us--they don't.

And in the dark places we hit our knees,

and we can cry out,

"God, why this?"

or we can cry out,

"God, use this!"

We either become bitter because it happened to us,

or

we become the blessing because it happened to us.

And who knows what blessing lies in the appendix of a teenage girl on her way to get a CT scan in the early morning hours? The blessing she can't see through the tears of pain. Who knows what blessing is being deposited even as her appendix is removed?

I can't tell you for sure. All I can tell you is...

It is the necessary one.

All New...All Different...All Good

I rolled over and looked at the clock. 7:30 am.

Four hours for the turkey to cook.

Sigh. I had time. In fact, I had time to cook the turkey, cook the cornbread and biscuits, crumble them up, and cook the dressing, fix potatoes, AND make the ham...provided I could borrow someone's oven for a bit.

Did I want to?

Words from Leslie's* text came to mind:

"Well, it's all new really, isn't it? New to being a fabulous single mom. New to being the matriarch of the family. New to having a sister."

It's all new really, isn't it?

All new...

Not all over...or all broken...or all...horribly sad...

...but all new...

All full of promise...all full of potential...

Yeah, I wanted to make turkey. I wanted to make the ham and potatoes and dressing and rolls. I wanted to make the day great for my family...because that is who I am...a fabulous single mom...the matriarch of the family who sets the tone...who dishes out dinner and dreams and trust that new isn't bad...just different...and it's good.

Yes, that is what I wanted...even if I had to borrow someone else's oven to have everything ready to feed my family...

It really is all new, isn't it? 

Yes, it's all new...all different...and it's all good.



The Dressing
The hardest part of this Thanksgiving for me was Mom's dressing.
She would walk in door, and the smell of sage and onions would
fill the house. She would sit the pan down and dole out big hugs.
I miss her...the dressing...and the hugs.
Time to step with presence, the food, and the love.
I can do this.



Wonder Boy drooling over the "traditional" Thanksgiving meal of
ham, turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, gravy, rolls, and cranberry sauce.

  



Rob joined the children and me for dinner.
We ate too much, watched Thanksgiving football, and played family games.
This morning Anna crawled in bed with me and said joyfully,
"Mom, this is going to be the best day ever."
How did she know?


*Leslie is one of my mom's "adopted" daughters. She worked with Mom at H&R Block. They were very close. I had heard about her for a long time. Mom thought the world of her. However, I had never met her. When Mom found out she had cancer, she said, "You need to get to know Leslie. You'll need her. You'll need each other." Mom knew. I'm thankful she did...and I'm so thankful for my new sister, Leslie.