I haven't been here in a bit. 

Hello! 

I had a friend message me that he had been on the site and read some of the posts. Made me smile -- and then made me grimace. I got to thinking perhaps the blog has gone down the sad road and never come back to the happy.  

The name of the blos is HAPPY in the MOMENT!  So - I want to spread some happiness sround here.  

And I am.

Happy.

Life is good - I have a great job, with people I adore and work that is meaningful. I have a beautiful daughter who is the joy of my life.  I have friends that are family...I've even managed to go out on a few dates and have put my fisging pole back in the water and maybe one day I'll hook that someone special.. 

Yes, there has been sad. Yes, there has been tragic. But yes, I survived... and now I thrive. After every storm there is the sunshine. And the soaked earth becomes fertile ground for new growth. That is where I am today - new growth, sunshine... Happy, Just Because.  

  

Haunted

I still hear that woman screaming. 

She was standing in her kitchen, and everything was okay and then she was screaming. She hasn't stopped for almost two years. Sometimes the volume is turned down and I can't hear her. Sometimes I hear her and play music or speak softly to her to soothe her. But there are times the volume is up and she just cries and screams. 

That woman is me. The me of 2018. The me who woke up on Wednesday, October 24th to a somewhat normal day. The me who picked up a phone call from her husband only to have him take his own life on the other end of that phone line. 

It was the first out of body experience I've ever had - but I have a distinct memory of looking at myself from a distance, me, screaming into the phone... standing outside my garage wearing my Blessed Beyond Measure shirt - begging him and begging God. I was begging for me, begging for my daughter, begging for my whole world to not be destroyed. 

It didn't work. The horror didn't stop that day. The trip to Texas was about to take place and the plane was going to fly and the rain was going to come and the terror of walking into an ICU room was going to happen and death was going to meet me in room 3111 three days later and change EVERYTHING. 

That woman is probably never going away. She woke me up tonight -- screaming and begging. I am haunted by her. No matter how far I may have come since 8:50 AM on Wednesday, October 24, 2018, she is always there in the back of my soul. I try to calm her down most days...other times, like tonight - I just let her howl. 

Struggling by the River!

By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept
    when we remembered Zion.
² There on the poplars
    we hung our harps,
³ for there our captors asked us for songs,
    our tormentors demanded songs of joy;
    they said, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!

Struggling.

No other word for the past few months of my life – and probably yours too.

Worldwide pandemic, cancelled EVERYTHING, no fun, no church, no toilet paper - all the normal sucked out of our lives without a warning

.

For me – the death of my father. I am feeling the grief much more strongly than I thought I would.

Last night I was eating grits and watching baseball and doing some Bible study. I can be a multi-tasker at 11 PM.

Psalm 137 came to my mind.

I long for my old life. It is a longing that overwhelms me at times. Waves upon waves of loss can trap me and keep my soul sad.

I miss my old life with my parents – doting on me – doting on Hannah. She is growing up without grandparents. In many ways I miss my husband. That relationship of marriage – having someone to eat grits and watch baseball with at 11 PM. My child is growing up without her father.  I miss the family that used to live in this house – my child is growing up with just a mom who is struggling!

The life I had is GONE. There is no going back to it. My only choice is to move forward. I understand those Israelites in Babylon in a whole new way. Mourning their home, family, worship, the life they knew and loved.  

Don’t you? We mourn our church services, movie theaters, concerts, graduations, proms, stores, restaurants, grocery store shelves with Lysol spray. We are living in a sort of Babylon – our old life is gone, we are uncertain of the future and we are tired of this existence.

I think the Israelites were tired … “then on the poplars we hung our harps” tired of playing the songs of the captors. I feel that – I’m tired. I’m tired of looking for the positives, tired of the media and the doom and gloom that have captured our world. I mourn for Zion – Zion – the life before. I want to hang up my struggles on the poplar trees and just sit and rest….

Thankfully – the LORD is my rest. He is the sustainer. He did it for the Israelites – He restored them back to their home. They got a new church building and life began again. I long for the day that the hope becomes reality for us too.

I’m sitting by the river of mourning today – but I’m going to rest a bit and then pick that harp right back off that tree. I hope you will join me. 

But God...He Draws a Perfect Full Circle!

Oprah called them "full circle" moments... I call them "But God" moments. Had one yesterday and I just have to share.

I spent 4 days in October of 2018 in a hospital in Texas, holding the hand of my husband as he lay dying as a result of an attempted suicide. During that time I sang to him, yelled at him, thumped him on the forehead - willing him to wake up and yell back at me, hit me or cry from the awful singing! I cried, I prayed, I fasted, I didn't sleep, I felt the coldness of death - literally and psyhologically. It was hell on earth. Through it all I had a playlist of certain worship songs that he loved, and I loved playing--- especially during the long nights. One of them was Agnes Dei - Worthy is the Lamb...that one takes you right to the throne of the Lord God Himself. Every time I hear it I am immediately right back in Room 3111 on the ICU floor of Sugarland Memorial Hermann Hospital, Texas. It holds good and bad memories - but is my favorite worship song nonetheless.

In October of 2019, on the anniversary of his death -which happened to fall on a Sunday... I asked our worship leader at church to play and sing Living Hope. Because - after all Hannah and I had been through - the only thing we know for certain in Jesus is our ONLY HOPE. He has guided, loved, protected, provided and set us back on our feet over the past year. I wanted to hear that song on that momentously hard day to make sure I was "looking ahead" and not wallowing in the past. It was a beautiful rendition of the song - our praise band hit it out of the park that morning. It was everything I needed it to be.

Yesterday morning I stood and sang with the congregation at church. The new man in my life was with me for the first in church...something I never thought I would get to experience again. The 2nd song of the day was Agnes Dei Worthy is the Lamb... I glanced down and realized I was holding his hand.. it was a full circle, but God moment. God had brought a new man, a new love into my life. I could celebrate this song in a new way - apart from the sadness. And the 3rd song of the day was Living Hope - I don't know anyway to convey the meaning of all it - how it hit me during that service. The mercies of God. That He would see me through so much and still not be done with me - that He would extend the time of blessing to include a new man who loves me and use him to heal all the broken pieces. It is positively amazing how God works.

Full circle. Happy once again.

But God!

Living Happy in the Moment!
~Beverly

52

Today would he would be 52. 

My husband, more importantly my child's daddy.

I can have another someone... but she will never have another daddy. She can have some really great men who pour into her life in lots of different ways, filling lots of different roles - (and she does - thankfully!) but she will never have another daddy to love her like he did.

This is what is accomplished when the devil has his way and lives are ripped apart by alcoholism, bi-polar disorder and lack of hope and suicide. Please, I BEG of anyone who reads this sad little missal. If you are feeling hopeless, overwhelmed, deeply sad; if you are dependent on a substance to make it through the day or night, if you feel like this world would be better without you in it...PLEASE stop - breathe and talk to someone. There is help and hope for all the feelings you are feeling...don't let the devil win again. Know that your people love you and depend on you being in their life. Reach out to someone...

And if you know someone that is experiencing any of the above feelings... YOU REACH OUT TO THEM.  Maybe, just maybe you can help pull them to safety. Maybe you can rescue them just enough to get them the help they need. Maybe they can't tell you what is on their mind...so YOU do something...DO SOMETHING!

It has become a message for me to share...I don't want any other little girl crying herself to sleep over the loss of a dad, or mom or sibling or friend. This was a loss that should never have happened in our world. The scars are healing... but my little girl will never have another daddy.

You're not alone. Confidential help is available for free.

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline

Call 1-800-273-8255

Available 24 hours everyday

Happy New Year's Adam - 2019 Version

So this is a picture I took on December 30, 2018. Headed into 2019.
I look happy. I can tell you that was a complete lie.

Two months prior to this picture, I had listened as my husband of 26 years committed death by suicide while on the phone with me, over 847 miles away.  The helplessness and powerlessness of that moment will shape me for the rest of my life.

In this picture, I was still in shock. I was scared to death. I was crushed, broken, humiliated, and desperately wanting to join him except for the love of my daughter.

Whether I was prepared or not...2019 came... I sought help through friends and a Godly counselor. I got help for my struggling daughter. I learned how to live with my elderly father in a nursing home. I learned I could do a little work. I learned I could push past pain and smile and even laugh with my child. I learned to put some new traditions in place of the old ones. I learned that most people are good - with good hearts and generous spirits.  I learned who I could allow in my life and who had to be let go. I learned that letting go was okay. I learned to care about myself and my daughter and to put up a wall where one needed to be. And I learned to face some fears.

Somewhere in there I began to feel the real loneliness of widowhood. I have friends; my child; but I missed a hand to hold.  I didn't think anyone would ever hold my hand again, but I got the courage to try or at least to open myself up to the possibility that one day someone would come and not see my crazy hot mess but see someone worth loving.

I gave my sweet friends multiple heart attacks -- I know I did. They were constantly stalking and researching anyone I happened to even mention as a candidate.  They put me on their Life360 accounts...certain I was going to meet with doom in the parking lot of Outback. It was funny --- I loved them all for it.

I met a nice guy or two... and I did find someone I liked and he liked me back. It seemed possible that love could find this girl again. But alas, it just didn't work out --- the Hallmark movie ended before it began --- and my heart got bruised.

So, I decided I had enough heartbreak -- considered myself glad that it was only a bruise this time. That Texan boy, he taught me about baseball, introduced me to some movies I had never seen, He taught me to "Clear the Mechanism" and "make room for the Holy Ghost". He helped me figure out just who I needed in my life. He helped me hone in on the qualities I was really looking for in a partner and he helped me get through October. I am forever grateful and I want him to be happy and well. 

But as for finding someone... I was done. I decided to put up my Christmas tree and jump into December fun - dating experiment over. I shut down the online profile. Decided dating was just not for me. I resigned to being happy with my kiddo and the cats. 

So, today is December 30, 2019. I am waking up to see that memory on my facebook account from this day last year.  I have laid in the bed thinking of all the things I learned in 2019. It was a scary year, full of new struggles, old pain, a new church, new friends, and a few accomplishments. It's been different than I thought 2019 would be -- but I can look back and be thankful for all that I learned. The good and bad... it has all brought me here.

And here is pretty good. I woke up staring at red roses. They are beautiful. There are 12 of them... one for each month of the year.  They are hope. Hope for 2020. Hope for some happiness, hope for peace, hope for fun, hope for comfort, and hope for genuine love in my life. I don't know if I've ever known it before. I hope I find out!

Happy New Year 's Adam!
December 30, 2019
 

Happy in the Moment...again!

Been a year.
Saturday was the 1 year anniversary of his funeral.
The grave marker is in place, I put flowers there and had a long talk with - him? The Lord?... maybe both...someone was listening, of that I am sure. 
I said goodbye!

After that.... I cleaned my house like a mad woman. Got rid of stuff, cleared cobwebs - both figuratively and literally and made all the corners clear again. A year is enough time to grieve someone who wanted to leave. A year is enough of my life to mourn what could have been. I'm ready to embrace the future.

I'm ready to move on... I've moved on!

Today I feel like Beverly Riley. Daughter of Robert and Betty. Someone I used to know. I actually wrote my name on a credit card slip yesterday and it came out Beverly Riley. I used to love to decorate, fix up my home, listen to music, sing, play the piano, laugh, take joy in the little things, cook, invite people over, make other people happy, do the extra things. I haven't wanted to do those things in....years!

So, this weekend I've redecorated some spaces in my home, played a few hymns on the piano, helped decorate for a fall festival and yesterday I cooked for someone and made my home nice for company and loved every minute of it!

This morning, I looked around my house and realized it was finally just MY house. Well, mine and Hannah's.  But it feels good. I feel like I've run a marathon or bench pressed 200 lbs. I feel new - well, like my old self - but new and improved. The calendar page flipped over, the time changed, and there I was. Scrubbed clean, painful memories packed away, laughter ringing in the air at my house.

My child walked into the kitchen this morning and just smiled at me. She's fifteen -- that doesn't happen often... she smiled and said I looked happy. She is right. For the first time in a long time, I am happy. Not searching for an answer, not weighed down by the what ifs, just happy ---- in THIS moment,  LIVING, SMILING and LAUGHING in this moment.

Thank you Lord for all your goodness. I feel unworthy and joyful all at the same time.

Sometimes the broken road does lead to a great place!

Marked Happy in The Moment!
~beverly

God Bless the Astros!

I was an Army brat and didn't grow up around my grandparents and other family.When I was 12 we moved back to my parent's hometown.  When I was 16, after I learned to drive - I would sneak to my grandmother's home and watch baseball with her. I don't think anyone knows that fact about me. We would drink hot tea and watch the Braves. My grandmother loved the Atlanta Braves. She lived to be 93 years old and I think she watched them every season until she couldn't. I've never really been a sports fan and I never really got what she loved about them so much, but it is the only sport I have ever watched and understood (for the most part) and time with her was precious - so I went and watched. (She also introduced me to soap operas -- that's a different post!)

When I got married, there were many nights that I sat and watched as my husband cheered for the Braves in the World Series. If it was October - the tv would find itself watching the Braves.

But this year - I found a new admiration for the game. I didn't see this one coming.

Not gonna lie... this year has been a rough one.
And I'm certainly not going to be a hypocrite and tell y'all that all I've said about Texas I take back.
But I do look at it a little differently now....
Prepare yourself emotionally...

I've become a Houston Astros fan.
I know - it's TEXAS! WHAT the WHAT?  Have you gone mad, woman?
I ,quite frankly, ran from the whole crazy idea. But then... well, you know what's coming...

BUT GOD...
HE introduced me to someone who loves the Astros, in a big time way. A real fan. Almost from birth.  I mean... A FAN!  So the Astros came into my world in a mighty way in September and because someone I cared about loved the Astros, I started paying attention. Of course I was just being supportive, finding a shared interest...but I started watching and then something amazing happened. I started to like them. The smell of victory was in the air and I started getting really interested in the Texas team that was headed to glory.

And then it was October.
And guess what -- October stopped being so scary. October wasn't boring or lonely or sad. I had the Astros in my evenings. I learned the players, their faces, their names, their numbers... I sat and watched them win and lose and then I watched as Altuve sent them to the World Series... I screamed out loud!  My child thought I had lost my mind.

I've watched all the games of the World Series. Alone, on my couch -- cheering and googling things I might not understand...but I was there. Pulling for this team that bears the name of the city that I've associated with so much of my pain. Y'all -  I even got a shirt -- and earrings! I was hooked! I am hooked.

Friends have made fun of my new found love of the Astros. I'm okay with that... I understand it. Two months ago, I would have told you that I would NEVER cheer for anything having to do with the Lone Star state. Yesterday if you had given me a ticket I would have hopped a plane. And today, on the last day of October, I have been awake all night writing after watching that Texas team lose the World Series championship. I'm sad this morning... nothing at all to compare with the sadness and disappointment of  my lifelong, die hard Astros person, but still... a little sad.

I've fallen a little in love with Justin and Gerrit ,Jose, Alex and George over the past few weeks.  I'm certain I'm gonna miss them on my tv every night.

I wanted them to win because the Astros gave me something special this October. They helped me through this month. They gave me something to look forward to each day, something different to cry about when they lost. It was fun! It's always fun to see people achieve and accomplish and live the dream. The Astros got me outside of myself, which is really the best place to be when you are hurting.

So, the Astros, MY team, lost last night and I cried. I'll never forget it and I'll never stop being grateful.

Thank you Astros for a great month. Thank you Mark for bringing them into my atmosphere. Thank you, God, for the lessons I've learned.  Can't wait to cheer again next year!

Signed,
A New Fan

Oh -- and  I'm not gonna miss this opportunity to show how God redeems. I started last October with a purchase of a baseball bat. I used it to bang and destroy a lot of things over this past year. I banged on coolers, walls, boxes, cemetery dirt -- every time anger and frustration arose within me - I went to swingin!

But this October, a full year later, so much has been healed in my soul. And this October - I didn't need to swing a baseball bat to feel better ...it was enough to watch and enjoy all the good that can come from a bat used right!

Redemption. Beauty from ashes, purpose in pain...BUT GOD! He makes no mistakes, He misses NO opportunity to show what He can do. And ONLY GOD could redeem all the bad stuff with all the good stuff in such a fun and fascinating way. I'm hanging on for the rest of this ride... it's gonna be a good one!

Marked happy in this moment! 
Beverly 

Thoughts at 4:44 AM

I love it when God wakes me up. Most of the time He uses the dog...but I just know when it is Him.  The time is always a clue... this morning it was 4:44. Only God does things like that... my dog would have done it at 4:53 or some other random odd number!

He woke me up and as I lay on the couch waiting for the dog to come back inside, my brain, still sleepy and cobwebbed, suddenly exploded with this verse. " Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me"  That's from Psalm 23.  I memorized it as a child - thus all the King Jamesy words...

Earlier this year I did a study of Psalm 23 - I love the chapter. Everyone does. But why this portion of it - THIS morning? Only God can do that too --- this is Monday. Monday of the week that was and is the shadow of death for me. One year ago today I was counting on my husband being brought home to me to go to rehab. His room was being made ready - they were expecting him on Sunday. He didn't show up. So Monday formed a new plan. He was coming. He knew people were coming to get him. The plan was clear.  I spent Monday praying. I spent Monday writing a resume and starting a job search. It's what you do when your husband goes to rehab for probably 3 months. 
But I had confidence that all was gonna be fine. I knew God was in control.  I didn't fear on Monday. That came on Wednesday. 

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil. 

These words became so real to me - I lived it out. This morning,at 4:44 they were real to me but as a memory of that week I lived last year.

I let the dog in, stumbled back to bed and couldn't sleep.  I picked up my phone and started my morning facebook scan. A friend posted a song - something that meant something to her. I looked at the posted youtube video --- it was Psalm 23 - by The Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir. Subtitled - Surely Goodness and Mercy.  I hit the play button. Pretty song.. and then... for almost 2 minutes throughout the song.... called Surely Goodness and Mercy... one phrase was repeated, over and over and over and over again... guess what it was.... yep!  You play along well... it was this....

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, You are with me.

But God. He gave me the verse and then just for fun and confirmation it was HE that woke me up at 4:44... He put that song in my facebook feed. 

I walk into this week with NO fear. I am not afraid of Wednesday, or Thursday, or Friday or Saturday or the 1 year anniversary which falls on Sunday. The devil has lost. They are days on the calendar and they MARK my life and my daughter's life in a significant way. I don't want to sugarcoat that this week holds pain. BUT GOD -- He is in all of our tomorrows. He was there last year. He is still here today. No fear, No chaos, There is peace and calm and order in our world this year.  I'm sorry my husband decided to take his own life. I'm sad that he didn't get the help he needed and deserved. I'm sorry that he didn't feel the love Hannah and I had for him. Those feelings will never change. But the rest of it... I've let it go. I've sat and watched God work in and through it all for a year. He has turned the page in my life and is writing a whole new story. He is doing the same for my child. We are healing and dare say, we are happy.

God is a good, all the time. Even when you walk through the valley of the shadow of death. Hide behind Him...the valley will end, the sun will come out and the clouds will blow away and you will be facing a heavenly day... I know because I've done it, I've lived it and I'm waking up to a heavenly, heavenly day.

But GOD!

Marked Happy in this Moment! 
~Beverly

Questions without Answers Part 1

I don’t know all the things I should about the last two weeks of my husband’s life.

But one thing I do know… on Sunday, October 14^th – he went to church. 

After his death, when I got his camper back and all the things inside of it… all the clues you might say, I found a bulletin. It was from a church not far from where he lived. It was a church I had asked him to attend – many times. I had done a web search and thought it would be great for him. I knew he had gone.. or at least he had told that he visited it on that day – but concrete proof didn’t come for weeks later after he died. It was just one more clue in a long line of clues that really never add up to much, that I can make sense of, anyway.

So, I know he went to church – and a week and a half later he took his life.

What does it mean?

Did he go to church seeking resolution for what he was about to do?  Did he go to seek the Lord and gain forgiveness, restoration, help? Did anyone talk to him that day? Was he just alone on the pew? What was the sermon about? What songs did they sing?  Did anyone know that someone that troubled was in their midst?

These are the thoughts I struggled with this morning while I was in church. All I could think about was this time last year he was in a sanctuary – in a church – and yet it didn’t help. The answers to my questions will NEVER come. I hurt so much at the thought of him in a church alone and not getting reached. 

It is selfish of me… truly and I don’t cast one minute of anger at the congregation of Victory Baptist in Brazoria, TX.  They are not the focus of this writing. This is an inward focus. An examination of my heart. The only thing I want to take from it is an OVERWHELMING recognition of the fact that as we sit in our sweet churches, with our friends, listening to jam up worship music and a great sermon – we should also take note of the people around us who we don’t know. We need to keep in our mind that sometimes, often times, there are people who wander in for various reasons and need something they may not even know they need…and it could be life or death for them.

I’ll never get it out of my head. I don’t want to. I want to be the one that reaches out. I want to keep it at the fore front of my heart. If someone had reached out – maybe, just maybe it would have made all the difference in my husband’s life – I’ll never know. 

But I will always live with the question.

Letting Go

If 2018 was the year of that  &%$# word, and 2019 has been the year of Grace, this October is the month of Letting Go.

Letting go...
of anger
of sorrow
of heart ache
of sadness
of memories
of lies
of broken promises
of lost dreams
of fear
of feeling unworthy
of wanting to hide
of not living
of not feeling
of not loving
of no peace
of no answers


October was always my favorite month, just like purple was always my favorite color and country music was always my favorite music. These are just a few things that the devil has tried to steal from me over this past year. Not any more.

My great big God has redeemed so much in a year. He has handled every obstacle that Satan has tried to throw in the way. He has overcome the feelings of rage and torment that haunted me. He has placed people in my path at the PERFECT moment to help and heal in ways I just don't know if I will ever be able to express. He has sheltered and provided far beyond what is earthly possible. You may remember from this blog that He gave me back purple.. and I drink from a purple glass each morning just to remind myself.

I'm sitting here on my new deck, drinking in the wonders of this beautiful fall OCTOBER day. The sky is so blue, the birds are chirping, the leaves are crunchy and falling... it is GLORIOUS! But y'all - it is October. The month of horror. The month I have feared and waited on and cowered against. And all I see is happiness and light and peace.

He's given me back October. He's given me back Wednesdays. This past Wednesday came and went without a thought that it was even Wednesday!  He's given me back all that the locusts ate up last year.  Joel 2:25

Amazing!

Is life perfect? Nope. Is it happy all the time? Certainly not. Do I still go down a trail of memories and find myself at the dead end in a heap on the floor? Yes.

BUT GOD... He pulls me through and reminds me of all that He is doing that I cannot see.

BUT GOD!

~beverly

 

October 1 - Where's the Fire?

One day I am going to publish all of this in a book. And in that book there is going to be a whole chapter on October 1st.  Here's your advance copy of that chapter. Your Welcome. You may pay as you exit.  

October has always been one of my favorite times of year. I love the change in season, the colors are all in my palette and I think the skies are more blue in October than the whole year.  Maybe it is just that contradiction of dead and dying trees up against the blue that makes it so vivid. Whatever the reason, I love October. 

Well, at least until October 2018. 

I woke up on Monday, October 1, 2018 not knowing that by the end of the month my life would be wholly and completely changed. I think I just woke up and thought - "oh good... October!"

It was a regular day. Well, nothing in our life was regular back then. My alcoholic husband was living in Texas for work, wrecking havoc on our life through the phone most every day. My family life was in chaos and I was spending all my energy trying to shield my daughter from it all. I was a duck -- calm on the top and paddling like the devil on the bottom. I would spend hours with my friends while my girl was in school - crying and trying to reason away his dastardly behavior and then pull it together to give my daughter some normalcy through the afternoon and evening. Night time would come and he would begin his telephone campaign of terror  - or worse - crying jags as he filled his body with beer and poisoned his mind. It was a horrible time in my life.

But on October 1st of 2018, around 6 pm I got a phone call from a friend. A life long friend. Someone I love and admire deeply. He was aware of my situation, as we had talked previously a few weeks before. He works outside - and had spent that day at the Savannah River Site doing work. My husband used to work there and that fact seems to have brought my family to my friend's mind the whole day. Anyway, T. called me to tell me some things God had laid on his heart while he was working that day. 

I started listening and then I grabbed a pen -- cause it just seemed like God was speaking right through the phone.  It was the story of Daniel (coincidence -- no, I don't think so) and his friends,Shadrack, Meschach and Abednego.(Daniel 3:13:28)  If you've been in Sunday School as a child, you will recognize the story the the young men who refused to bow to the statue of the king and were thrown into the fiery furnace. I knew the story -- but I had never really thought about the point that  T brought out. Yes, they were thrown in the fire, they were saved from the fire, Jesus was with them in the fire - but also they didn't even smell like smoke when they were brought out. So - they were in the fire - felt the heat, felt the fear, but they were not smokey when they came out.   No one would even know they had been through that experience.    It resonated with me so deeply that night. I wrote it in my journal, I underlined in my Bible. I thought about it all night. T had said God told  him that my child and I would be okay. We would survive what we were going through. We would not carry the smoke of this horrific fire in my family into our future. I think I've lived on that truth for the past year.

You see, October 1 was the beginning of the month in which my husband died. Died by his own hand on October 27th. God gave me that truth at the beginning of the month for a purpose, I'm sure of it. While life was painful and many times I doubted whether I could get through it or not, I clung to the thought that I was not alone in the fire and I would not carry the trauma (smell of the fire) with me into the future.

It is an extraordinary thought when you are raising a child. Many nights I prayed that God would wipe her memory clean of some of the horrible things she witnessed. Things that would harm her future relationships with a men, her view of what a father should be, her view of what marriage should look like, her view of fidelity and honesty and integrity.  The thought that God could keep the smell of smoke off her - it was my thread of hope.  I also secretly held it for me too... that I could survive and still go on to live a happy life.That I could find someone to share love and life with again..

October came and I became a widow. Life in the last year has been a mesh of struggle and chaos and grief and pain and heartbreaking facts of life and yet the Lord has been so good to me. He has been so kind, so gently moving me forward. The people in my life are a huge blessing to me. I lay down in peace most every night. I know people are praying for me and loving me from a far. I know that my God is in my tomorrow and has been working a way for my good this whole time. I have faith, I don't doubt and I don't fear. 

On Tuesday of this week, the calendar turned to October 1st. I sat with my Bible and re-read the passages from last October 1st and marveled over the Lord's handprints all over my world. It was amazing to see how he used my friend to prepare me for what was coming.  As I sat and thought about it all, my phone dinged with a message. It was from a friend - not a close friend, maybe I haven't even seen her in years - but Facebook has kept us in each other's broadest circle. She knew from a morning's post that October had started for me and I was fearful of the memories. She sent me a song.  I',m going to put it here - but y'all --- this girl had NO WAY to know of my connection to this... NONE. I don't recall ever sharing the above story with anyone.

Here's the song.

https://youtu.be/zmNc0L7Ac5c

It is by Hillsong - called Another in the Fire. I encourage you to listen.

Y'all, how good is God?  What a reminder to me as I look forward to moving through this terrifying month. He never misses a detail.  I am so undone over His love for me and my daughter. 

Thank you to those of you who feel a tug from God and make an effort to reach out to me. Happened last night - when I struggled for sleep and finally found it at 3 AM. When I woke up at 5:45 and looked at Facebook, a friend had been on at 3 and posted I was on her mind and she was praying. So I slept while she talked to God about me and for me. It is the details that show His glory. There are no coincidences.

But God. 






 

Cemetery Dirt

I am covered in cemetery dirt.

This morning, after a long and sleepless night, I drove up to the small plot of land that holds my husband's earthly remains. I keep a chair and a bat there for such a day as this. I didn't use the chair today -- I used the bat. 

Grief is strange and unpredictable. I like to think that I am actually at a good point in my walk through this year of grief. I seem to be moving forward; celebrating my child, enjoying life with friends, starting to live again, thinking of the future, maybe even hoping for another hand to hold for the rest of my journey. But then days like today happen and I find myself prostrate on the ground lying next to him sobbing my eyes out. 

Today I used the bat. I beat the cold, hard ground until my arms ached. I smashed the cemetery vase which held the flowers I keep there for him. It was filled with rain and muddy water...now I am splattered with it too.

It felt good - at least for the moment. But it really didn't help me. When I finished my batting practice (LOL) and got up from laying beside him all I had was the dirt. Red Georgia clay, on my legs, arms, stained on my shirt and under my fingernails. I had it on my face, muddy tears. I'm sure it's in my hair. I'm a hot mess this morning. 

BUT...I don't want to be covered in cemetery dirt. I didn't choose that path. He did. He chose to be in the ground and to leave me, to leave our daughter, our life.  I hate and love that plot of cemetery dirt in ways that I cannot begin to explain.  

I'm covered in it today -- but in a few minutes I am going to take a shower and wash it all away. I'm going to turn my head to the day and leave the cemetery dirt behind... at least for a day or two anyway. 

* September is Suicide Prevention Awareness month. Look out for the people in your life and take note of their words and actions. There are signs to look for and things we can do to help.

https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/09/green-national-suicide-prevention-lifeline-wallet-card.pdf

Ten Months

Ten months ago today one storm ended and another began.

So many things in my brain about that day, the images are frighteningly close and vivid.
I can't speak of all of them yet. One day... one day.

But I can speak of a few. I can still see the face of kind hospital staff. Early morning talks and gentleness spread over me like a blanket. I can see the hospital courtyard, the long hall and lobby, feel the sunshine I hadn't felt in days and my friend Lisa... and the rest of the 6 on the telephone...with me through it all.

I see a hotel room... feel the hot water in that shower, the cool sheets on that bed. The best pizza to have ever been made came in the door. Sitting on that bed, eating that pizza off a napkin will forever taste a bit like heaven to me. Sleep-- oh the sleep of that night. I hadn't sleep in probably eight months, certainly not for the past three nights, life had been filled with such turmoil. But now that he was finally still and resting and all his anguish and chaos was over...I finally got to sleep too.

My friends took over. Paid for me, got me home, took care of me, thought of all the things I couldn't, protected me from those who would hurt me. Brought food, brought toilet paper, changed light bulbs, drove me and Hannah where we needed to be. Went to appointments with me, sat with me, cried with me, laughed with me, joked with me, yelled with me, wore outfits to make sure they were ready to fight for me. I will NEVER forget it. Each detail is written on my heart. I am like Mary - pondering it all  - keeping it all safe. 

You see, it was the little things. I think I always want to see the BIG things God does for me. And granted - there are some pretty BIG things that He did during all that time. But what stands out for me today, ten months from the dark day, what stands out is the little things. Things that people have no idea would mean much --- the candy and a Coke in the back of the car. The ceiling fans being dusted. The meal cooked. The listening to my tale,over and over again. It all adds up to some mighty BIG things. 

I hope I can pay it back or forward or just at all. I still feel so incredible weak and frail and sometimes the giving of myself to someone is too much for me. I hope God works me through that feeling. I want to bless and I have been blessed.

You know who you are  - I hope you see something of yourself in the above paragraphs. You guys are my rock...I am forever grateful.

My verse...

We attend a new church.

There are a number of reasons why, but one of the factors had to do with my child and I not being able to really worship in our church. Not for a bad reason, just for the simple fact that it is where we were sheltered from the storm of our life last year, where lots of people know intimate details of our life and the struggle, where so many tears have been shed and prayers prayed and so much love that we just needed to wiggle out of that comfortable place and get a fresh start. We landed at a wonderful place, it's small and sweet and the people are warm and welcoming. We are thriving there. Part of the appeal is that really only a tiny handful of folks know our story. It's nice not to feel like a sad victim of a shattered life for a few hours each week. I'm always ready to share my story, Danny's story, but sometimes it is nice not to be on display. 

This morning, after driving to church in the POURING rain and navigating a puddled parking lot, I sat in Sunday School and was hit with this question. What is a scripture that means something to you? Now, I could quote verse after verse that has seen me through this past year... I have seen so many miracles, felt the hand of God, seen His hand print and footprint all over my world...I could write a book. Maybe I will. But I couldn't make my mouth speak this morning. I'm not afraid to speak out - never have been. I'm the preacher's kid for heaven sake... I usually speak...whether I should or not. I used the excuse in my mind that my throat was sore, I felt puny, I didn't have much strength in  my voice and the rain was making lots of noise.  Whatever excuse I gave myself, this evening I woke up from a little nap and knew I needed to write this post. Scott (the teach) even questioned several times if someone else wanted to share. I knew he was asking for me..I just couldn't. So, if you are still reading this and you are from Freedom... here is what I wished I had said this morning.

My verse(s) is Romans 8:37-39

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. 38 For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, 39 nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

On a dark, dark night in Texas, Thursday, October 25, 2018 I sat at the bedside of my husband in Sugarland Memorial Hermann hospital. I had flown in Wednesday night, and took my seat beside him in ICU at 11 PM. I stayed at his side, holding his hand in the COLDEST room I have ever been in. He was dying. I could not do anything to save him. He had placed himself there by his choices, his path away from our family and from our God.  None of that mattered for those four days I spent by his side. I sang to him, cried over him, prayed for him. I prayed to God for strength, for mercy, for a miracle. I have never felt so alone in all my life. I was 1000 miles away from anyone who loved me - loved him. I remember telling God how alone I was. My mind flashed to Jesus on the cross, when God turned His eyes away. How that must have hurt, the agony of that for Jesus. And yet here I was so desperately alone and hurt but I still had God.  In the midst of that night, God gave me these verses. I wrote them on a piece of paper and taped them to the wall above Danny's head. I wanted everyone who walked in that room to know the truth. When he died on Saturday, I took that paper off the wall and laid it on his chest. I wanted to people who attended to him from then on to know the truth.  I had the verses printed on his funeral program. I had them read at the service. It is the truth on which I stand. It is the gospel for me and my child. It is the basis on which we can continue living. 

Before and  after that long cold Thursday night in ICU, I saw God move mountains. I flew into Texas alone, but a sweet friend/sister and her husband met me there so I was not alone.  Only God can arrange this kind of stuff. By the time the days were over this scared, wounded, desperate woman who felt so alone in a strange place was surrounded by friends who loved me and CAME to me. God arranges miracles. I'll never forget it. I hope that I never take for granted His work in even the smallest detail of our lives. Good times are coming back around for us - but I never want to get too far away from the bad as to not remember what He can do.

My God-fearing, God loving, hard working, sweet husband and the best daddy a little girl could have strayed off the path. He let down one boundary, then another, then another until he was far away from me, from Hannah, from church, from friends, from God.  BUT GOD, God never moved away from him. God was with him through it all just like He was with us through it all. In that hospital room, God was there. When the last breath was taken, I know where my Danny went. I watched him go. I know he is there today.... safe from all the pain and hurt and so deeply feeling the forgiveness of the One who died for him.  Danny believed that - he lost his way, but God never took His eyes off of him. He loved him... through it all. 

My prayer is that if you do not know the overwhelming love of God - the sweetness of Him in your life, I pray that you will reach out to me - or someone and find it today. It is life altering, the best high, the greatest love. It is something you do not want to live here on this earth without...and you certainly don't want to leave this earth without it.

Sweet Freedom family -- one day I hope to be able to share my whole story. Just know that I am not always this quiet --- one day you may hope I go back into my shell!!! :-)

Living Happily in the Moment!
~Beverly



 

Better Late Than Never Bloomer

I've been through a lot.

This time last year I never would have believed I would be sitting here in my home, a widow with a teenage girl to raise. But here I am.

The things of last year (and the grief of it all) should have broken me. Could have broken me. Would have broken me. BUT GOD.  He held me together, duct-taped me together, slowly started removing the duct tape and adding in some glue, and although I am not completely healed up and made new from all the trauma...I am so much better. I can actually smile and laugh. I can relax and sleep at night (most nights), I am moving forward in every area of my life.

I will still always speak of the story - I'm always going to want to help anyone who is dealing with mental illness and substance abuse disorder. I am always going to want to bring purpose from the pain. But I am moving forward. I feel it.

This morning, I walked by this peace lily plant in my sunroom. It is one of the ones someone sent when Danny died. I got a whole bunch -- I'm committed to keeping them alive. This one, for some reason is the favorite of all my cats.  They love to sit in it, eat its leaves, drink its water...try and destroy it every chance they get. The other plants in the house are spared their claws and teeth. They are all pretty and green and growing. But this raggedy one, its the one I expect to throw away first.

I looked at it this morning and just had to snap this picture. 

Do you see it? Amongst all the crinkled and torn leaves. A bud. A flower bud. Unbelievable. This is the plant that has taken the so much abuse over the last 9 months and yet, it is the only one in this house that has a flower coming out. Oh... and take a look at this picture...

You see that... it's a 2nd bud!  

The plant that has been tattered and torn, used and abused, treated unfairly and unkindly... blooming! 

I 'm that plant. I will bloom again. I will live life fully again. All the abuse and mistreatment and hurt has made me stronger, more deeply rooted in the Lord, ready to stand up and bloom out... that's me... watch and see. 

“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;

    his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
    great is your faithfulness.” Lamentations 3:22-23 (ESV)

Living Happily in the Moment! 

Beverly

Marked Safe - May 16, 2019

27 years ago today I thought I was safe.

In matters of the heart I had been through it - I had been engaged, cheated on and left for another. I had been broken hearted and desperate and sad and lonely. I had tried to smile as those around me met and married and started families. I had prayed for a good man, I begged God for someone to love, someone to start a family with and rock through old age with.

So on the morning of May 16, 1992 I woke up knowing that by the time the day was over I would have all that I had longed for - a husband and a new last name. I would belong. I would be starting a new life. I would be...safe.

I laugh at that girl today. I want to hug her and then slap her.

I wasn't safe. I may have had a new last name, a partner, even a new life, but safe. No! None of that ever made me safe.

Marriage and a family did not exempt me from the troubles of this world. Having a husband did not make the bad times suddenly rush from my path, just as having a wife didn't make my husband immune from trouble. Life from that day forward was filled with happy times, sad days, gain, loss, riches, poverty, better... and worse.

Life taught me many lessons over the 26 years I was married.  This time last year I was in the throes of a fight for my marriage, my man's mental health, my child's future and everything in my life was in an upheaval. It was horrific. The death of the life I knew, the life that we had built was heart-wrenching. I fought a real battle. I was scared and felt unsafe every day of 2018.

This May 16th, I am waking up as a widow. MUCH too soon.  I am feeling the loss of my old life in a way that is desperately hard to describe. I am sad but I am also contemplative.

I don't know if I will ever find someone else to love, someone to share the rest of my life with, someone to grow (even) older with... but I starting to hope I will. I think I am happiest with someone in my life. What I know today that I didn't know then though is simply this... my safety is in the Lord, my hope is in the Lord, my foundation is in the Lord. I'm totally different than I have ever been. I know today that I am safe. Really safe. Held and secured by Jesus. He's real folks, He's done so much for me. I hope you know Him...or at least will let me tell you what I know about Him if you don't.

Happy Anniversary in heaven, baby - I know we aren't married any more... but I can't think of this day and not think of all we had - eat some carrot cake, drink some sweet tea and pet Jake for me...

Living Happily in the Moment,
Beverly

A Musing on Mother's Day!

It's Mother's Day Weekend.

I always wanted to be a mom. I had a good mom -- a great example to follow and it made me want to give that to someone. God gave me Hannah. I am so thankful.

But I have three biological children  - they live in Heaven. I like to think they were there at the gate to meet their daddy when he showed up. It comforts me. I don't know what Heaven is really like; I like to think of it my way. I think God knows me well enough to understand. I think He has gifted me with creativity and doesn't care one bit because  He knows when I get there it will be totally and utterly different from my imagination.(and anyone else who tries to debate me on what it is like!!)  He probably giggles a bit at my small minded projections of what it is truly like. I bet it is beyond ....

But the scene in my head for what tomorrow will be like is this...a pretty day by the sea. Danny and our three younguns playing in the sand, my mom in a beach chair watching it all.  They might even get in a little fishing... a perfect day of celebrating mothers. Maybe God will allow a little pull back of the clouds and they will get to see me. I hope my mom is proud, I hope she knows how much I miss her and wish she were here with me. I hope Danny can see me and Hannah - hanging with the Muni family...his best friend, Tony, taking such extraordinarily good care of his girls. I hope he knows that I've got this. I'm gonna give Hannah the best life I can ... that we are gonna be okay and we are trying to be happy.

I also hope that he is still hobbling around from the beating my mom gave him when he walked through those gates six months ago...about 30 years too soon!

See -- God must get a kick out of my imagination.

Happy Mother's Day to all ---

Living Happily In The Moment!
Bev

Blue Skies...

"You're my blue sky, You're my sunny day...."

Blue Sky by the Allman Brothers Band has been sifting through my mind all day. I haven't heard it in...years (probably) but the radio reminded me of it today and for the first time in days (months, years?) I smiled at a song memory.

Since Danny died, I usually just listen to talk radio because it seems like every other song has a memory attached. It is hard to be with someone for 28 years and not have those song memories; or tv memories; or movie memories; or food memories... basically -- memories! :-) Ha! Ha!

Danny loved the Allman Brothers, we traveled once to the Big House in Macon-- just to say we had been where some of his favorite songs were written.  Eat a Peach - he loved that album.  He loved the song Blue Sky. He would sing it a lot when we were traveling or walking on a pretty day.  Holding my hand, squeezing it when that next line started..."Lord, you know it makes me high, when you turn your love my way'.... it is such a great memory.  I needed it preserved tonight.  Blue skies, his blue eyes, blue hydrangeas in bloom on my porch. I just smiled when I wrote all of that!

Yesterday I was certified as a Mental Health First Responder, and to that I also add that I am a Suicide Prevention Advocate, although that carries no paper certification.

As a Mental Health First Responder, I am able to help someone in crisis until appropriate professional support arrives. I am not a counselor. Think - CPR first responder, except for mental illness. I am able to help someone who is experiencing an anxiety attack, depression or a manic episode. I've been trained to help if someone is exhibiting signs of suicide or self harm. I am certified to help in early intervention and to help guide the person or family/friends to appropriate professional supports.

I did this for several reasons. The obvious one is that I lost my husband to death by suicide 6 months ago. There were signs, I knew of his desire to end his life, I tried to help, I reached out to people to help me, I got help for him, or so I thought. Lord help me - I did everything I knew to do - and yet, he prevailed in his desire to end his life.  I wish I knew everything I learned yesterday, this time last year. I don't know if it would have made a difference, but it might have. I did what I knew to do, I sleep at night knowing that I tried everything I knew to do. It is little comfort.

Yesterday, I received tools that I can use to help someone else. Maybe the person, maybe their spouse, or child, or parent. I confidently know the best route to take. If I can participate in someone getting to the help that leads them to hope and recovery, it will have been worth it.

The ultimate hope is the Lord. The ultimate key to recovery is the Lord. We must pray for people who are experiencing mental illness or who deal with substance use disorder. Pray, pray, pray. And then ACT, ACT, ACT. God equips us to be His hands and feet on this earth. Sitting by and watching someone with mental or substance use disorders is wrong. It is the opposite of compassion and the things that the Lord asks of all of us. I believe it grieves our Lord. We must follow His example and reach out to those who are hurting. Reach out and try...

I would love to talk to anyone who is interested in what I have learned.

I would love to listen to you if you need to talk to someone about things in your life. I don't have all the answers, but I have ears to listen, hands to help and a heart that desires for no one else to travel this road alone. I'm here. I'll walk beside you.

My blue eyed, sweet, sensitive, kind, caring, generous, hardworking, devoted husband, the greatest daddy who ever loved a little girl, was lost in a sea of mental illness and substance use disorder. He fought and lost the battle. But I'm still out here fighting...and today I heard him singing Blue Sky in my ear....and felt him squeezing my hand.  What a good Wednesday!

Living Happily in the Moment!
~Bev
#fire&rain
#restored

Six Months of Wednesdays

WARNING:
This post contains subject matter that may be difficult for some people. I write about suicide. I would want someone to tell me before I read it...

It was Wednesday morning. A lot was happening under the surface, but above ground, for me, all was calm, normal. I woke up, took my child to school, came home and got ready to leave the house. I was excited to meet a new friend for lunch. We had lost a mutual friend unexpectedly a month before and had gotten to know each other after the fact. I was wearing one of the matching shirts I had bought for us with a saying that summed up our friend's life -- Blessed Beyond Measure --I couldn't wait to give her the other one. I was really looking forward to bonding with this sweet woman!

Under the surface of this day was the stomach twisting knowledge that at the end of the day, or at most the next day (Thursday) my husband would be home from Texas and admitted to a (much needed) rehab facility. This was at his request - he had called and wanted help in coming home and admitting himself to rehab. It had been something I had worked on privately for almost 2 weeks.Only one friend knew of the plan. If you have dealt with an addict or someone with a mental illness, you understand that many times these things do not come to fruition. Promises made during a drunken phone call are often not kept. Put mental illness on top of it and the odds go WAY down. I didn't want to humiliate my husband or myself any further with grand announcements of his recovery process. In fact, I had planned to keep it completely secret until he was done with the program.

So that was the Wednesday morning I was facing. I had talked to him by phone for hours the night before - he seemed excited and resolved to be coming home. Resolute in his recovery and coming back to his family. His girls.  All was well. I was calm, thankful to be wearing my new shirt and the meaning behind it NOW for me, personally. I truly felt blessed beyond all measure. The hurricane we had been through was going to end and.a new and better day was dawning.

I got ready and the phone rang.

It was my husband.

By the end of that phone call he would be brain dead and my world would be entirely shattered. I remember every detail. I remember the panic. I heard his last words to me and my daughter, I listened to him end his life and I listened as the police and paramedics (whom I had called on my landline) came and tried to save him. I heard it all. I screamed out to the Lord in my driveway for what seemed like hours. Somehow I called my closest friend and she got to me. I remember my pastor and several others coming to the house. I remember trying to pack a suitcase and reserve a plane ticket. The memories of that that day are vivid and run like slow motion through my mind retracing constantly the marks it left on my soul. I remember the people who were unkind to me that day.  People who I thought were family treated me so very  wrong, the nurse (when I finally got to the hospital 800 miles away at 11:00 that night still wearing that shirt) who talked to me cruelly and mistreated me until she heard the truth. I remember all that because I am human. My flesh is just always going to revert to that part of the story first.

But my spirit cries out differently.
My spirit remembers all the miracles of that day and the next day and the next day and the next day. They are so numerous you might think I have made them all up. I could not because only GOD could do what He did on that Wednesday, October 24th. He was not caught by surprise at 9:00 AM or10 or 11 or 5 PM or 11 PM, or Thursday or Friday or Saturday. One day I will write it all down for the world to see what He did for me, for my child and ultimately my husband. I say it all the time...BUT GOD! 

Today marks 6 months since THAT phone call. My mind will follow the time line, just like I do every Wednesday. That's why I hate Wednesdays. I think today will be harder, who knew April would line up on the calendar just like October.

All this stuff is hard. Hard to write, hard to read, hard to live. I don't want to leave either of us without hope. Below are the verses that I kept close to me in the hospital, the ones that I whispered to him for four days -- the ones that helped me know that no matter what occurs on this earth, we are never separated from God. You can face anything if you know this fact in both your head and your heart. I always knew it in my head...four days in Texas taught it to my heart. If you don't know it - I would love to talk with you. There is hope - there is love and it is yours! Your story does not have to end this way.

Romans 8:37-38
For I am convinced that neither death nor life, angels nor demons, the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

#SSSB
All rights reserved *Beverly Riley Whitaker*

Easter Is Different This Year...

Easter is different this year.

Easter is different this year because I am different this year.

I'm watching the Scriptures on this Good Friday as they scourge and mutilate, humiliate and crucify the One who has stood by me this past year. The only ONE that has truly walked this path with me, cried tears with me, held me, protected me, moved mountains for me, rocked me gently to sleep and given me strength to wake up and keep putting one foot in front of the other.  Him. They are killing Him.  It is excruciating. I've never felt it more personally than I have today.

Sunday's coming...




All rights reserved.....
Beverly Riley Whitaker

God's Giving Me My Purple Back!

As long as I can remember purple has been my color.

As a child I loved it, by teenage years I was positively obsessed. I cannot begin to count how many purple sweaters, blouses and scarves have hung in my closet over the years.

In May of 1992 I walked down the aisle at my wedding to a sea of my best girlfriends, all wearing royal purple. I loved it. The color is rich, majestic, perfect for any occasion and whenever I've worn it, I have felt special.

It's my thing. I don't have many obsessions. I've always loved elephants and I think Jimmy Fallon is the bee's knees and everyone who knows me well, knows my color choice is ALWAYS going to be purple.

Until October came.  Four days in late October I sat and watched my husband of 26 years die. He died of depression. He choose to leave me and our daughter. I will forever search for answers.  During those four days, I lost the color purple. There was a moment and then everything in my world changed and moved and I lost. I lost my husband, whom I adored. I lost my hope, my future and my color. Purple was no longer part of my happy. It had become my sad. I've mourned all my losses from that day...the big and the small.

Purple was lost. Jewelry got put away, clothes given to Good Will, eyeshadow trashed. All the purple - I threw out of my life.  And no one really noticed except my daughter. She did. She noticed every time I chose pink instead of purple, she noticed I never wore purple anything. I couldn't tell her why. I just chalked it up to changes in life.  She NEVER believed me.

And then God stepped in. Three days ago my facebook daily memory popped up. It was a picture of me, a few years back with my purple-streaked hair. I did it for fun, for a Disney trip with friends, but I secretly loved it and would have kept it that way! The picture of those purple streaks made me laugh and I hadn't laughed about purple in a long time.

The next day, I as driving home and admiring the sunset. I noticed something that struck me so much I had to stop. Along with the pink and orange and yellow in the sky...there were purple streaks. Purple!  It was beautiful. I even took a picture for proof of the beauty.  The One who paints the sunrise and sunset was showing off and showing me purple.

Yesterday I walked into the laundry and in the middle of the floor, left behind when my 14 year old did her laundry, was a single purple striped sock.  Purple stripe. The 3rd purple strip in 3 days.

I might not go out and refill my closet with purple clothing, I probably won't paint a wall purple, or buy a purple car. But little by little, I see purple coming back in my world. It's coming back, stripe by stripe.  God's Word tells me that by the stripes of Jesus we are healed.  I believe that covers my salvation and my life and my happiness. Those stripes for me, will now always be purple. The majestic, magnificent, mighty God meeting me in the midst of my storm, flashing stripes of purple, whispering "it will be okay again, you will smile again,you will be happy again. You will love purple again. I am bringing it back to your life."

Don't be surprised to see a purple streak or two in my hair next time you see me. Now you will know why it is there!

He Was Wrong!

Today is January 25th. Most of you are celebrating the end of a work week, start of a weekend or maybe just thinking how could Christmas have already been a month ago - time is flying! 

I am thinking all those things too, with the additional thought that there are other things I should be doing. I should be planning a dinner with friends and family, baking either a chocolate or carrot cake and wrapping that gift. I should be doing all those things because today should be a celebration of my husband’s 51st birthday. Instead, it is a day where feelings of happiness mingle with sadness and bitterness and I sit here and try to fling grace at all of it.  

My husband took his life in October. He suffered with depression, mental illness and a severe alcohol addiction. He didn’t think himself redeemable. He was wrong. He didn’t think he could have back the life he loved. He was wrong. He didn’t think he could be forgiven and rehabilitated. He was wrong. I tried to save him. I did everything humanly possible to save him from himself and from the demons that tortured him. I failed.

Today, I celebrate the life of a man I loved, a flawed husband and father, but no more flawed than you or I. I am thankful for his life, I mourn his loss and the loss of our future together. This is his day. But I also want to use this day to acknowledge that there are others who suffer as he did. I might be talking about you or one of your family members or friends. I want to encourage you to reach out if you are feeling depressed, feeling like you don’t want to continue your life, feeling like you are unredeemable. Reach out to me if you want, to your friends, or family, a pastor, a counselor - someone. Just reach out.  If you know someone who is struggling - YOU reach out to them.  Don’t think that it is not serious. Don’t think you can always check on them another day. Do EVERYTHING in your power to reach out to them and offer help. EVERYTHING in your power. You may ultimately fail, but do it anyway. 

I hope you have a happy Friday. I hope your weekend is great. I hope if you are suffering today, that you will reach out.  

Throughout the last few months I have been made aware of two great tools to help those who suffer and those who want to help. 

Write these numbers down and use them… 

1800 272-8255 - The National Suicide Prevention Hotline

 Or 

Text 741741 - this will connect you to a crisis counselor who can help you through the moment.  

Happy Birthday, my sweet Danny! We are thinking of you today.