My Lenten Journey

As a child, I remember the purple banners hanging up in the church in the weeks before Easter and people giving up bad habits for Lent.  I would watch Jesus of Nazareth every year without fully comprehending what was unfolding on the screen.  I squirmed as Jesus was whipped and nailed to the cross.  As I became older, I had a difficult time with the violence and stopped watching movies based on His crucifixion.  Today, my devotionals have led me to the crucifixion in God’s Word and what it means in my life.  Admittedly, I become emotional when I read of His grief leading up to His arrest, the flogging and how the soldiers cast lots over His garments.  It took the loss of my oldest son to fully comprehend the impact of the crucifixion and resurrection of our Lord on our lives today.

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Jesus died so we could live.  He took the guilt and sin of the world upon His shoulders because He loved us deeply and so we can enjoy eternal life with Him after we die.  Until recently, I didn’t fully know the power and significance of His resurrection because I have been stuck on the crucifixion – not only His but my own.  I have focused on the negative, on my mistakes and my past.  I have resisted healing from my loss out of fear of forgetting Christian – the sound of his voice, his strength, kindness and how he made me laugh.

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Christian at the Lewistown Fair

I began my Lenten journey with a booklet with a dragonfly on the front.  It stated Be Ye Transformed on the front.  I have learned that Lent isn’t just a waiting period from Ash Wednesday to Easter.  It is a period of metamorphosis – of letting go of negativity and false beliefs so we can receive the Truth and fully come to know the love of God.

“Just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life.” (Romans 6:4)

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When we went to the cemetery to visit our boy today, it was sunny and we could hear western meadowlarks in the distance.  A chickadee, which happened to be one of Christian’s favorite birds, landed in the tree next to us and sang a bit.  As the sun warmed my face, I thought of Christian in heaven, with his favorite animals by his side, sitting in a mountain meadow surrounded by mountains surpassing any of ours in beauty and size.  I didn’t shed any tears until a woman drove up to visit a grave across from ours.  The age of the young man buried there isn’t far off from Christians.  I cried as I watched her approach the headstone and kneel in front of it.  “I know” I thought as we drove away, leaving her some privacy.

One of my favorite scriptures is John 10:10, when Jesus said “I came that they may have life, and have it to the full.”  What does it mean to have a full life?  It means greeting each day with gratitude and ending our “I AM” with powerful, positive words.  It means fully accepting and enjoying ourselves, opening our hearts to God’s abundance and never giving up.

Remembering God’s Grace

Fall had always been my favorite season.  The beauty of the changing leaves and the flight of the starlings amazed me.  Since losing my son however, the arrival of Fall has brought with it a sense of dread.  Now, seeing the flowers wilt and the branches become bare make my heart ache.  This Thursday will be 2 years since we lost Christian.  As the yellow and orange leaves scattered my front lawn, I remembered going outside to take his photo on his last birthday.

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When they came to pick up the signs we rented for Christian’s birthday, I felt an ache in my heart and I didn’t know why.  The fact that we would lose him 15 days later was the furthest thing from my mind.

As the 27th approaches, I want to remember God’s grace.  I want to remember the kind things people did and said after Christian passed away.  Sure, the pain will be there but God’s grace can be in my heart too.  We literally had a roomful of flowers and a stack of sympathy cards – some from people I had never met such as a woman in Lewistown who gave us $100.  I remember my friends, Tracy and Amanda, coming over to the house and offering to help with the food after the services.  A woman from Kalispell who lost her son to the same disease just weeks prior drew me a picture of Christian.  My dad drew a picture and my mother helped as much as she could.  Another woman who lost her son to Duchenne MD flew in from Columbia Falls to attend the services.  Sara from Infinity Lofts set up a dove release for us at the graveside and let my son Andrew hold and release the first dove.  My good friend Michelle drove up from Lewistown and brought me something vegan to eat.  Our friends Mike and Monica brought us our groceries for a couple of months until I was ready to go to the store myself.  We received care packages from friends in Wyoming and Hawaii as well as family in Montana.

 

 

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We went back up to the cemetery a few days later to release more doves.  Drew was able to hold and release Sirius again.

The pain was unimaginable but God’s grace kept us from completely breaking.  Remembering the love and kindness of others makes the pain a little more bearable and gives me comfort even today.

Light at the end of the Tunnel

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I went for a walk this morning on the River’s Edge Trail, which runs along the bank of the Missouri River.  The leaves were glowing a brilliant yellow and several birds flew ahead of me along the way – a magpie, a robin and a chickadee.  The way the sun hit the trees on top of the hill and how it caused the foilage at the side of the trail to glow took my breath away.  I am almost overwhelmed at times with the beauty of God’s creation.  Since losing my son in 2014, I see things with different eyes.  I went on a walk with a friend who also lost a son, and we agreed that it’s almost like layers have been peeled away and everything we see is blindingly beautiful compared to how we saw it before.

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There have been many days over the last year, however, when I have been engulfed in darkness.  I have experienced the dark night of the soul and experienced pain so intense that I just couldn’t stand being me.  During the first year after losing Christian, I did what one of my grief books recommended, which was to lean into the grief.  This meant that I cried the tears I needed to cry and felt what I needed to feel.  I leaned on God constantly, read His word more than once a day for a while, and prayed often.  He has done a great healing in me that I will never forget.

The darkness set in during the second year.  Taking care of my youngest son, Andrew, although difficult to do while processing the tragedy of losing Christian, gave me purpose and something to focus on.  I still felt important and needed.  When I returned to work after over 10 years, everything I had ever believed about myself was dramatically changed. All of a sudden my husband was taking care of Drew, cooking meals and cleaning the house – things I have done since we married in 1992.  Suddenly I had no idea who I was.

Rather than turning to God in prayer and to His Word and reaching out to supportive friends, I turned inward and started defining myself by how the world viewed me and by what I did each day.  I felt unimportant and lost.  I stopped blogging because of the fear of what people would think if they knew I was in so much pain.  I didn’t want to be a downer by writing about the darkness and sadness.

The truth is that without darkness, we are unable to learn what needs to be brought into the light and healed.  The pain and difficulty we endure becomes life experience, and although we would rather aviod it, we can use it to help others.  Sharing my broken heart can actually help someone else who is going through their own personal tragedy.

As much as I want to be done grieving, I am not.  As Marianne Williamson states in Tears to Triumph, “it (grief) is a process – not an event- best served when we surrender to it fully.  Grief allows us to process incrementally what might be too shocking to the system to have to process all at once.”  Tears are nothing to be ashamed of, especially when they are for someone we cherished and loved so much who is not longer with us.  They wash away layers from the heart and help us to see everything with new eyes.  As I continue to cross this vast sea of grief, I will share the lessons learned and the things that God wants to show me in hopes that I can help others know that no matter how deep the sadness, there is a light at the end of the tunnel.

God’s grace for the Race

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Yesterday, I completed my first Island Challenge.  The event took place in Lewistown at the Half Moon Ranch and it featured different events – a half-marathon, overnight bike ride and 8K/11K hikes.  I signed up for the 11K hike.  I am a natural introvert so engaging on such an adventure solo stirred up feelings of fear and doubt.  I had thoughts of backing out more than once.

I woke up early and made the hour-long drive so I could have plenty of time to check in.  I was not disappointed by the beauty of the ranch.  There were cows greeting passing cars on the dirt road leading to the ranch and the rising sun brought everything to life.  I arrived at the pavilion to the smell of bacon and pancakes.  I checked in, pinned on my number along with the memorial pin of my son.  The ranch is surrounded by mountains and wildlife so I enjoyed the views while I waited for the hike to begin.

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When it was time to gather around the starting line I made sure to listen to the directions, especially pertaining to the split between the two hikes.  The horn went off and I began my  journey.  We started on a hill and I slowly ended up in the back.  I told myself that all I want to do is finish, even if I am last.  I was looking forward to the solitude of being in the back.

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We went uphill for over a mile and my heart was racing.  My legs started to burn in places they usually don’t and the terrain became very rugged.  I had to watch where I was stepping so I wouldn’t fall or roll my ankle.  As we started to spread out more, I could hear the wind blowing through the tops of the pines.  Everything around me was beautiful and so full of life and color, even the rocks and foliage along the side of the road.  I made it to the first water station and was happy they had kleenex and fresh fruit.  The oatmeal I ate for breakfast wore off before I even started the hike.  We had a brief respite from walking uphill but another hill waited after the rest station.  I attacked it with vigor and pumped my arms to give me a boost.  Tendons I didn’t know existed were sore and I  began to feel the weakness caused by the muscular dystrophy.  I wasn’t about to let it stop me.

 

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I thought of Christian and how he and his brother were never able to hike because their bodies became too weak once they were old enough.  I thought of my mother and the pain she has endured from her legs giving out.  I also thought of a co-worker who is battling cancer.  I felt that second wind come along and I kept it up.  I walked alone for a good part of the hike except for the marathon runners that passed occasionally.  I came up on the 6K sign and realized I was over half way through.  The second water station came a short time later and they said I had one mile left.  I thought the nice man didn’t know what he was talking about.  How could I only have one mile left?  I pressed on further and approached a downhill slope that made me hesitate.  I pictured myself trying to run down it and tumbling down for eternity like Chris Farley in one of his movies.  I eased my way down and felt my quads burn like fire.  When I was closer to the bottom, I let gravity help me and ran a short way.  I slowed, went through a gate and I could hear cheering.  I thought that was odd because I still had a way to go.  The pavilion came into view and I knew something was off.  I felt like I had accomplished something great, but 11k in a little under 2 hours?  I crossed the finish line with a smile and a feeling of completion.  It didn’t dawn on me that I went the wrong way until I noticed hikers with the 11K blue race bibs on cross the line that were in front of me earlier.

I have to admit that I felt disappointed because I signed up for the longer hike.  I beat myself up a bit for making a mistake and missing that turn.  I was very tired and sore after completing the shorter hike so I thought that maybe it was for the best.  Next year I can try the longer hike.

I opened my devotional this afternoon and read about the grace of God.  Grace is the evidence of his love for us which is freely given.  It comes to us as talents, through other people or in ways totally unexpected and most needed whether we realize it or not.  God wants for us what is best and sometimes it seems unfair.  Although my hike ended up being 3K shorter than planned, perhaps He knew that I started off too big.  My legs ached like they haven’t in years and I really cannot imagine how they would feel had I completed the longer hike.

I cannot change the fact that my legs are not as strong as I would like but God has given me the ability to keep walking and hiking, just not marathon distances.  He has blessed me with a loving husband and a son who despite his prognosis, continues to do everything he can with what he has.  He also blessed me with a son who kept fighting until his last breath.

Christian was with me on my hike walking beside me and he knows I gave it my all.  For everything he lost and everything Andrew continues to fight for I will not give up, even if it means taking a path I didn’t expect to take.

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My Camino

A few months ago, my husband asked me to watch a movie with him called The Way starring Martin Sheen and directed by his son, Emilio Estevez.  In the wake of the loss of his son, Thomas Avery decides to walk the Camino de Santiago, a 776 km pilgrimage across Spain also known as The Way of St. James.  The images in the movie were stunning and breathtaking.  After having lost my oldest son in 2014, I really connected to the movie.  Each person takes a stone with them that symbolizes their burdens.  Along their pilgrimage they are able to lay the stones in an area to symbolize leaving their burdens behind.

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The burdens people release have much to do with their reasons for walking the Camino.  It may be the loss of a loved one, the loss of a job or overcoming a physical challenge.
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The images online and in the movie are numerous.  I encourage you to follow a Camino page on Instagram or search online.  I experience peace from many of the images.

The journey ends for most at the Praza Obradoiro Cathedral.  The images of the Cathedral brought tears to our eyes.

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One of the most memorable parts of the movie was seeing the massive incense burners swaying to and fro across the Cathedral. 

The journey takes at least a month and many walk all the way to the ocean.  Some start further into France before reaching Spain.  There are numerous documentaries and one we enjoyed is called Walking the Camino.  This movie affirmed my decision to add this pilgrimage to my bucket list.

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It may be years until I am physically able to complete this journey let alone getting the time off of work, but I decided to start my journey now.  I am not able to actually fly to the beginning of the Camino at St. Jean Pied De Port, but I can walk daily to overcome the physical discomforts of muscular dystrophy, lessen the depression and anxiety of daily life and loss, and strengthen my mind and body for something great which I hope to achieve.  Here are pictures of my Camino:

I walk to the courthouse at least twice a day and always encounter beauty, whether it’s a sparrow in the grass or patterns on the sidewalk.  The flower garden in Gibson Park is full of color.  The River’s Edge Trail by Rainbow Dam is so peaceful and is also my favorite place to walk.

 

My sister and I walked the M trail behind the University of Missoula (go Griz!) and she inspired and encouraged me to keep walking and improving.  Thanks Sis!  I will always be thankful that my husband introduced me to the Camino de Santiago and we both hope to make the journey together one day.  Check out the movie on Netflix and see if you can walk away without being inspired.  Much hugs and love to you all!

The rose or the thorns?

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We celebrated Drew’s 21st birthday at the Allegra in the Wynn.  Chris Myers was eating dinner there and he wished Drew a happy birthday!

Yesterday, Drew had his 6 month checkup with the heart and lung doctors.  Drew has Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy, a life-threatening form of MD that attacks muscles all over the body, including vital muscles like the heart and muscles that help us breathe.  When we took Drew to see the doctors about 7 months ago, his numbers went down, so naturally we were nervous and afraid.  To our surprise, the doctor came in the room, smiled, and asked me what I am giving Drew because his heart strength went up significantly.  It was a blessing and a relief.

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When the boys were young, they participated in Eaglemount, therapeutic recreation for disabled kids & adults.  Christian wasn’t afraid of the horses.

Not too long after receiving the good news, I kept wanting to ask about Christian.  Why did he have to suffer so much?  Why was his heart so much weaker?  WHAT DID I DO WRONG?  WEREN’T YOU PAYING ATTENTION?   Most of the time, as I have been reluctant to accept, we will never fully understand or even know exactly what happened until we see our loved ones again in heaven.  I believe we will experience so much peace and joy in God’s presence that it will not matter.  Even when things go well and life gives me roses, I still want to hold onto the thorns.  What will happen if I stop being so sad?  Will I forget his voice, his smile or his strong spirit?

Part of healing is being thankful for each day and living each day as I know Christian would want me to live.  I have had my pity parties and it’s normal when we are grieving, but after a while they actually do more harm than good.  Complaining and being negative keep us from being all God created us to be and all Christian would want me to be.  There were so many things Christian was not able to do and he accepted it most of the time.  So many things that are mundane or even grievous to the rest of us were all Christian ever wanted.  He wanted to work, run track and do the same classwork as the rest of the students.  He wrote letters until he could not tolerate sitting up at his computer anymore.  He tried reading the bible from front to back until his pain started and he had to spend most of the day tilted back in his chair.  He did everything he could until his last breath that chilly October morning, which feels like it was yesterday and like it was ages ago at the same time.

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I will focus on the roses in life and not hold onto the thorns.  I will honor my son’s life by thanking God for the new day when my alarm goes off.  I will be thankful that I can work and that I have my health.  I will be thankful for clouds as well as sunshine, Mondays as well as Fridays, unpleasant people and sweet people, sour and sweet.  I will live.

 

 

Long Time No Post

I must admit I was a bit shocked when I saw how long it had been since my last blog post.  I have read in more that one place that we have to make time to do the things that matter or we will never do them.  We also must not wait until everything is perfect before we pursue our dreams.  Our lives are ever-changing but our dreams remain in our hearts.  I have a dream of writing a book about my sons and their daily battle with Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy.  A book that I hope will inspire people to donate to the MDA and reach out to families afflicted with devastating, neuromuscular diseases.

So much has changed since my last post.  After over 10 years of being a full-time caregiver for my sons, I am back at work.  Not just any place of employment but the very company that I left to care for my sons.  I feel tremendously blessed to be rehired.  Even with blessings, it’s easy to still experience moments of fear and doubt.  Questions circled in my mind such as wondering if I would remember everything.  There is also the social aspect of working outside of the home that I have been missing for far too long.  It has been fun seeing people who I haven’t seen in years, literally.  It has been difficult not seeing my son as much but this change enables us to be a healthier and happier family.

October 27th marked the one year anniversary since Christian passed away.  I honestly thought it would be beneficial for me to go to work and with this year being the first one, I didn’t know what to expect.  Let’s just say I had to go home.  Being with my family made the day easier to bear for all of us.  This fall has been painful.  As I have been watching the leaves turn and fall off of the trees and the sun shine at a different angle, I have been flashing back to our last few weeks with Christian.  The good Lord has given me the comfort and strength I need to keep putting one foot in front of the other.  One sign of the healing that has taken place over the last year is the little moments of joy that fill my heart at the most simple of things.  A squirrel greeted me on one of my courthouse runs with a mouthful of leaves.  A house finch called to me from under a car in the parking lot behind the treasurer’s office.  A pigeon greeted me above the door before I went inside.  The simplest of sights are the most beautiful.

A squirrel in Gibson Park years ago.
A squirrel in Gibson Park years ago.

I had to remind myself lately that going back to work full-time does not mean I have to stop pursuing my dreams.  We can always carve out a little time every day to write, play a song on the piano or take a 30 minute walk.  I would love to hear about your dreams and I will keep you posted on mine.  I have a piano that I would love to start playing again but with most things, I will need to take baby steps.  I read a blog post by Tsh Oxenreider (theartofsimple.net) about not setting goals too big or it sets us up to fail.  It’s far easier to exceed a goal that’s simpler and realistic.  Wise words!

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