Whatever

That word is pretty dangerous around this part of the country. It’s dismissive. It cancels out the importance of something.

I have heard myself say it over and over this past week. I started to ask myself why, and I wasn’t happy with the answers.

Life is really hard.

Corgi Hollows used to be a place where a positive outlook reigned supreme. Even in the throes of cancer and other difficulties (autism, unemployment, chronic pain,…) life seemed to be doable.

It is still doable, but there is a fragility that I cannot shake. God is God. He is our strength, and His promises still hold. I stand on His words in Scripture, and I reckon with the final outcome no matter what this life holds.

I still feel pretty bummed out about life right now.

Don’t worry. I have a fraction of hope left.

I focus on learning about Eastern Asia, learning enough Chinese to travel, and keeping the home fires burning (quite literally). I clock into my two paying jobs (subbing is over for the school year) and I get up in the morning.

Coffee and the Word, my habit.

Minnesota summer mornings can have a chill, and the fire is nice today. I opted for that instead of the porch. I have several fireplaces, and I love them all. Gas and wood. I’m blessed. There is something so cozy about the firelight.

So why do I feel dismissive, when I am so blessed?

Life.

The downside is that I realize how much shock and denial cost me. Life really stopped for me when Brian died. Some of you know that I am the poster child for the wrong way to handle becoming a widow. I was at a loss in every way.

I’m still coping.

I lost people on every level. I pared down my life seeking to regain a footing, closed social media accounts, lost friends, lost family.

I was seeking balance in a spinning world beyond my imagination.

This past week we entered a new phase with my dad. He is officially on “hospice” now. I am slowly grieving.

The grandchildren are wending their ways to visit and say hello—goodbye, whatever.

I see a life well-lived in my dad. I want him to reap the rewards of doing well. I pray that he is comforted and content at all times. Thankful.

We should not compare lives with anyone. Each person has a unique experience, some more difficult and even tragic than others. Some lighter and easier. It’s a truth. You will always find someone with more difficult circumstances.

Whatever.

I hurt today. I can’t dismiss my own pain. I’m me.

When I weep on a sunny day in June I am me.

Yesterday, driving home, a car hit a deer on US Hwy 12 on the Long Lake bypass. It happened in front of us, and I cried. I cried out to God as I saw the creature suffer. He answered my prayer and the deer expired within a minute.

I hate death.

Death is swallowed up in victory. Maranatha.