A Year Later

A year later and I still have no words to describe it. Not the feelings I have. Certainly not the feelings of my family.

Even now as I type these words, it feels so utterly strange. Uncharted territory, even as the first year is up. Different from a year ago, and yet, the same. I am not sure if anyone else in this situation has felt this way. I suppose each is different.

Yesterday I was aimlessly scrolling through Facebook and I wondered to myself, why am I doing this? Something so simple and mindless and downright meaningless? I had that EXACT same thought and feeling a year ago today after I heard the news.

Honestly, I did not want to write this post today and I have been dreading it. I do not want to relive it and do not want certain readers to relive it. It is too close. I did not want to offend or hurt anyone. To dishonor him.

Then it occurred to me that I, or we, do not need a blog post to relive it. It happens all the time. Thankfully, a little less as time goes on. Time heals, little by little. It becomes apparent when you look back. That I know for sure.

I need to write this post. For me. For my family. And for you. For anyone that has ever lost anyone. For him. To celebrate him and his life and his loved ones. The survivors because that is what we are. My Uncle was a beautiful and faithful man. Which makes it even harder at times. I suspect we will never know the answer to why in this earthly life. As is the way with many things we go through. There are no answers.

The only way I know how to honor him is to celebrate this life that I am blessed to have. That I am here to witness the Lord’s beauty around me. To LIVE every minute and celebrate every moment like it is my last. Do what makes my heart smile. Seek the Lord and allow His will to be done through me. To be a blessing to those around me. That is what I am thankful for this Thanksgiving.

So, that is what I am trying to do and what I try to encourage others to do.

I still pray for us to lean into our Lord in these hard times. To grow together. To grow in our faith together. As a family. It is hard and will continue to be. But we have to. We have to for ourselves and for the next generation.

I hope I have not lost you. For those of you that were not here or do not know the story and would like to, I have linked my writings of the series of events from a year ago below. In sharing these posts again, my only hope is to reach those that need to hear these words. For them to know they are not alone and that there are people that have been through this. That know how they feel. That there is still beauty and light all around us.

How Do I Title This: November 22, 2016

Thanksgiving Eve: November 23, 2016

A Prayer You Can Borrow: November 27, 2016

Today: November 28, 2016

The Aftermath: November 30, 2016

This weekend, while sitting by the fire with a cocktail in my hand and my dog at my feet, I put this string of songs together that got me thinking.

I hope you enjoy them.

Thanks to Middle Sister, K for sharing this last one with me. Pass it on.

That is all for now.

Reflections on a great clinic coming up soon!

Walk in love, dear readers.

Please pass along to anyone that needs or wants to read.

Crisis?

I have never understood the whole quarter life or mid life crisis thing. Always was an odd concept to me. A conundrum. I jokingly throw around the term at times. I typically think of age as just a number. A number that many people use as an excuse or something to dread. Or view as a ticking time bomb or one of those daily flip calendars with a finite number of pages. The truth is, you are the age you feel you are. I have never really felt my age, even when I was little. Dare I say that I typically think of myself as an old soul. I read somewhere that one should never admit to that if you ever want to get married. Well, I just did. I suppose I am doomed now.

 


“Yeah there are different roads to happiness
I took a different path I guess
Came out on the others side just fine
The losing side of twenty five”


Turning twenty five was no big deal for me like everyone makes it out to be. Well, on second thought, maybe it was. I was either twenty four or five when I died my hair on a whim. Making the decision as I walked in the door of the salon. Pretty out of character for this planner. It was supposed to be redish and my parents freaked out like I had gone to the dark side and said it was purple. It wasn’t purple, at least not after it faded.

Twenty six was a big one. When I turned twenty six I felt like I was kicked on my bum out of the nest, falling on a large stick puncturing my wallet as I had to get my own health insurance policy. A puncture that just keeps getting bigger. Like some terrible kind of graduation gift that just keeps on giving. I called that a quarter life crisis to be funny, but honestly, I still do not know why it felt like such a big deal. Everyone has to do it. The hair dying was probably closer to a crisis, depending on who you ask. Some people may even call this blog, created almost a year ago, a quarter life crisis.

 


“My regrets are far and few between
and I can’t say that they’ve cost me a thing.
Except some money and a little bit of love,
But I’ll give that up.

If I can say that I am still my own
Without the rules that they forced upon.
At least since they day that I was had
because I can’t go back.”


At twenty eight, I sometimes feel like I am back where I was at twenty three, fresh out of undergrad, wondering why on earth I worked to graduate on time and give up my ability to ride every day. Still with an urge to dye my hair and blame it on a quarter life crisis just because. Just because I feel antsy. Questioning my life decisions and wondering. What is next? What am I supposed to be learning here?

I don’t think a season of life in transition, with God pushing me into rest, prayer, and waiting, can be considered a quarter life crisis. That is what I think most people do.

Here is the thing though. Everyone is in their own boat on the same sea. It is all a part of the journey. AHAmoment. The path. Individual and unique, just like you. The end destination is the same for everyone on different roads with different challenges. Might as well enjoy the ride! Look back at the end and marvel at what was experienced and accomplished instead of regrets or what went wrong. There will be many more seasons of transition to prepare you for what is next, often feeling like the waves going up and down the beach. One minute you think you are up and then the next you are back. The key is to stay the course. Just like working with a horse. One bad ride does not doom the next. Give them time to learn and figure it out. One mistake does not define a life. Mistakes do not exist if we learn from them. Be patient. Pray. Learn and grow. It is hard, yes, but in due time, His time, you will know what the next step is and when to take it. The next season will begin.

 


“When you are at war with yourself, you are bound to lose.”


So, no. No crisis. Never was and never will be. I am over here, happily in transition. Faithfully waiting. My current season of rest. Still. It does not come easy for me, but with His help, it will get easier. I will be prepared.

I’m not going to dye my hair, don’t worry. At least I don’t think so.

How I get to all of that from listening to one song is a wonder to me. Hello? Did I lose you? Anyone still there?

The good news is, the strangles scare was just that, a scare. I will still check each horse just in case while I am out tending to my Lito man. Speaking of Lito. He still seems to be recovering well and is enjoying his short workouts. Keeping sound with no added heat or swelling. Barring any schedule changes, we should be ready for his vet check by Wednesday or Thursday next week. Fingers crossed, dear readers.

Walk in love!