Month: June 2021

In all of life there are things you can choose: things you can change, things you can opt for, things that you expect.

Those things are never guaranteed.

When everything hits the fan, the bottom drops out, and you find yourself flat out on the floor staring at the ceiling asking “What just happened?”—

That is an unasked-for opportunity.

Re-focus.

Ultimately the God we serve is in Control. He is the Sovereign power of the Universe and He controls the chaos.

(There is really no such thing as chaos.)

I have a mind to reset. That is my choice.

In the past few years I saw and experienced great loss. Great change.

I am, subsequently, changed. There is nothing in my power to keep things “the same.”

Oh, sure, I still like chocolate. I still like pink and horses and Corgis. (I’m eternally 3 years old, apparently).

But things have changed. Relationships have changed. People have changed.

It isn’t that I don’t care, but I simply do not have the capability to care for the things I did care for formerly.

I have to refocus.

I have let many things go.

I’ve allowed myself time to set my face toward new paths.

If you feel left out of my focus I apologize. I mean no ill intent. I have simply downsized in a manner that is revolutionary for my sphere. Basically I’m focusing on Ed and Cherie. We, together, have a mission right now, and we three are going to work on that task. This is my focus, this is our focus. Each of us has our own goals and duty, but together we can take on a bigger project, just one, and we’ve decided on it.

Please don’t feel left out: I can’t handle anymore choices right now, anymore issues, anymore loss, anymore relationship.

The Lord is anchoring me in a new place.

I’m different. I’m changed.

My past is a blessing, a memory, and those of you who are a part of it are cherished.

Kiss me good-bye and wish me well.

I’m refocused.

I woke up a year ago (today, Thursday morning) and kissed my husband good-bye until heaven.

Alignment has been hard. Acceptance is difficult. Pain is real. Self pity is justified.

I’m still in the thick of it.

Tomorrow join me at Fort Snelling in the afternoon to commemorate my husband.

I’ve read several accounts of being lost at sea, and the description of the doldrums never fails to alarm me. Can you imagine being stuck in a sun burned ocean?

The moment when a breeze starts to pick up the crew brightens and the vessel begins to show life.

I have had my sails trimmed into an induced doldrums for the past few months.

This week marks the one year point for Brian to be in heaven.

I remember my dad saying to me one week after Brian died: “It’s been a week. Next week it will be two, then three.”

I didn’t know how I survived the first week—but I did, and his words were a gentle reminder that I could possibly survive time I couldn’t even imagine.

It’s been a year.

I remind myself that time must pass. My heart has developed a direct link to my tears, and the heaviness is truly physically painful. Sorrow is stifling. I’ve known sorrow, but the layers of it have given me a different experience.

The doldrums have given me time to process and manage the pain.

I’m thankful to trim my sails and my life down to just a few people right now, Ed and Cherie, primarily, my mom and dad. Anyone else dealing with this shared grief has been more of a balm to my spirit than whom I can help. I trust that people can understand that. I’m thankful for words of encouragement, for prayers, for thoughtful words.

I’m still in pain.

Pain changes things.

Don’t expect anyone at Corgi Hollows to be the same again. We’re changed. Different. We’re not the people we were.

For me, it seems that things I loved to do with Brian are especially sad and painful. I seek things completely different. My taste in music has changed, media, even the places we went I avoid for the most part. “Firsts” are important, and I’ve interspersed these things throughout the year, but the pain is unpredictable, and I prefer to avoid them.

New things. Different things.

Don’t judge me! Grief should never be judged. Those of us who are living it are simply trying to manage existence.

I know God allowed this pain. Jesus mourned too. He experienced emotions and pain. Why in the world did God created emotion?

Perhaps to give God glory—-

Philip Yancey wrote a book about pain years ago. I read it, and I haven’t forgotten the “blessing” of pain that he wrote of. Pain, something we avoid mostly, is a blessing of warning to the body’s stress. Perhaps I should see emotion like that. It is a blessing of expression.

These are thoughts from the doldrums.

The sun is shining. I’m listening to “Hitchville” today, a local group who has ties to some of my friends. Country music—Corgi Hollows???

Coping. Change. Time passing.

Waiting for the breeze.

Last weekend my cousin from Arizona came to visit and cheer this household. She always does, whenever she comes, but I needed her good medicine and cheerful ways more than ever. I’m so glad she came.

We cut rhubarb so she could make a pie for her mom. It turned out great, I hear. (Millie’s Recipe, find it on the old site!)

She always makes me laugh, gives me sound advice, and helps me regain the hope that I lose. It is her gift. I am glad to have a person like her in my close circle. We worked together at a department store called “Donaldson’s” back in the 1980’s, and I remember those shifts fondly.

I cried when she left, but there are promises of another visit soon.

I keep wondering if my air-travel plans will be thwarted by my health decisions. The New World Order seeks to control the flow of humans, and I am staying out of the global stuff as much as I can.

Globalism is really a thing these days, even as we find the hidden agendas and their devastating effects.

I’m being quiet again.

I thought I was quitting the hotel, but my manager begged me to come back. I’ll be back there sporadically. I guess that is a positive thing. I get to meet all kinds of people there.

As summer begins I see the changes in all of us connected to Corgi Hollows. We are just short of the anniversary of my husband’s death today, it will be a year soon. Memorial Day was filled with his memory, as we visited his grave, and his name was read out loud at the service in our city.

I feel raw. I still cannot believe he is gone, with Jesus, of course.

I think we will all be going soon. Look around! Where is hope? In Christ alone.

As someone who is thoughtfully pulling back from a frenzied life-pace I can understand my non-believing friends better than ever.

I am a believer, but I can see the tactics used to ignore Christ.

It’s pretty effective.

That is why I am praying so diligently for these dear ones to be snatched from the fire, as it says in Jude.

My list isn’t long. You might be on it if I know you, and you haven’t come to faith. There are a few “big” names on it, too, as I pray for the influence of conversion hope to reach thousands, if not millions!

You need Jesus.

He will help you.

Open your spiritual eyes, and let the Holy Spirit reveal truth to you.

Time is so short. We prophecy people understand! This is the season, and we are not unaware!

Maranatha!