Thoughts. Words. Deeds.

Deeds... actions; choices; consequences. They all go together. Sometimes, the choice we make, the action we choose, can have consequences that reach further than we could ever imagine. Some affect days, weeks, months. A few will impact the next several years, maybe even decades. Some will even change the course of the rest of our life. But then there are those that have eternal consequences - the big ones, that impact where we will spend eternity, and how we will spend it... those are the really important ones. The ones that truly matter. And yet, those things that "merely" impact the remainder of our earthly lives can seem so big, so profound... and the consequences can seem insurmountable and all-encompassing. So what do we do when we are standing face to face with the result of our deed? Whether that deed was good or bad, whether the consequence is favorable or terrible, we then have to choose how we will let it impact us. We may not have any say in the physical events that follow, nor in how those events will alter so much. But we do choose how those events will change us as a person. Will it make us stronger? Will it makes us more cautious? More bold? More decisive? Uncertain? Do we choose to embrace forgiveness for wrongs committed, or do we choose a lifetime of guilt and condemnation? If this life shakes and rattles us, do we get back up? Or do we stay down for fear of falling short yet again?

Words. Words are so powerful... not just the verbal representation of various concepts or ideas, but also our tone, our inflection, our intended meaning. But mostly, our words themselves. If we speak only truth, we find our faith growing stronger. We find our ability to discern sharpened. If we speak only lies, we reap only doubt. Our faith falters, fades, and eventually disappears. We don't trust, don't believe, and eventually are unable to distinguish truth from falsehood. If we speak truth one day, and lie the next, our faith struggles. We lose trust in our fellow humans, and find ourselves uncertain at critical moments in life. We can use our words to help and encourage other people. In a matter of seconds, we can lift another's mood, bring a smile, a laugh, or tears of relief. We can calm fears, squeeze out loneliness, and comfort heartache. Or we can be bringers of destruction. We can sow sorrow, fear, and uncertainty. We can choose words that will cause another to become filled with self-doubt, shame, or embarrassment. So we must be so very careful what we say, and how we say it.

Thoughts. Thoughts are perhaps the most difficult area of our life to control. Our thoughts can get us into trouble or out of it. We can allow them to lift us up or tear us down. The tricky part is remembering that we are in control of our own thought life. We may not be able to prevent things from popping up in our head, but we can certainly choose to over ride those thoughts. We can use words and deeds to tame our thoughts. And if we're uncertain what we've been thinking on, those same words and deeds will reveal it. We are to think on those things which are good, perfect, beautiful, noble, and right.

So much I want to write tonight, so many thoughts and questions rolling around. But for now, anyway, I will keep them to myself.

How I long for children. NOt just any child. I long for Anna. Especially this time of year... my beautiful girl's birthday is Monday. I know it's only a due date, and she could have been born at ANY time, if she had gotten the privelage to be born at all. But, it's the closest I have. And I need a day to remember her. It's just so hard this year... I don't have my gramma to lean on. And I don't want to say anything to Derek... he's not struggling with it now, and for his sake, i want it to stay that way.

Looking for a job... I'd really like to get in at a photo studio part time. It would give me a chance to get some real-life practice and training, and provide income, all without having to spend a whole bunch on equipment. I am now officially the "un-nanny." My baby is no longer my baby. I'll sure miss him... but I really think this is for the better.

Today I am going to go out in the marsh to take pictures (maybe) and for sure try and find eagles or hawks or SOMETHING... I look forward to being financially able to obtain the mega telephoto that I want. My ability to get those really great shots will go up SIGNIFICANTLY at that point. But it's not the focus right now.

Now, what I really wanted to write... we're four days out from Annaliah's birthday (or due date, rather). She was due December 17th of 2006. It is amazing how much joy that little one brought to so many, without even being born... and how much sorrow accompanied her early departure. We've been pregnant four times - and lost it each time. There are several factors that have contributed, none of which I'll share at this point. Anna was the one that impacted us the most, and impacted those around us the most. She's in heaven now, with my gramma. They're dancing on golden streets, falling before the throne, singing praises. And oh, how I miss them most. I am so glad that last year, I had gramma to help me through this anniversary of sorts... it's tough. And this year... in some ways, it's much harder. Nobody else ever talks about her, and I don't think anybody remembers her due date. I'm certainly not about to start reminding people - I've got the idea that this is one of those things that a mother stores in her heart. Because really, I am a mother. There are souls in heaven that are a product of the love between my husband and I. We knew Anna the longest, and I think that is why her absence is the most painful.

It seems that lately, so many well meaning people have made comments to Derek and I regarding having children... "When you two finally decide to have a baby, then..." or "When are you going to have children?" or "Weren't you pregnant a while back?" or my very favorite... "It's good that you're waiting to have kids. Being parents is so much work, and involves so much sacrifice..." Usually I just walk away. But, it's hard. What I'd like to do is turn and say, "First of all, we ARE parents. We have FIVE children. They are blessed and they do not live on this planet. We are blessed for having the privelage of uniting to bring them life, and blessed with the knowledge that they will never suffer the trials of this life. And we miss them more than you probably can know. We haven't chosen this road - we would prefer, for our sakes and for the sake of those we love, for all five of those children to be with us here. We'd like to watch them grow, to teach them to walk, to talk, to love... but the true proof of our parenthood is this: like any truly loving parent, we want only the best for our children. And the best for our children is heaven. We are not angry or bitter or jealous. And we see the blessing in knowing that we won't spend nights agonizing over the salvation of any of them. And we are happy for them - happy that they are indeed, more than anything we've ever known, perfect, healthy, complete, and full of joy. Since our last miscarriage, a year ago January 5th, we've been struggling to get pregnant again. We've gotten some answers about our losses, and have steps we can take to prevent them in the future. But for a variety of reasons, pregnancy is not an easy thing for us to obtain. Without help, medical professionals feel that we would NEVER become pregnant again. So before you criticize us for the treatments, or congratulate us on the choice to wait, please consider what it is you are really trying to do. If you're trying to build us up, pointing out the benefits of being childless is the worst way to go. We are not childless -we've got five. We are not waiting - we're plunging ahead with fertility treatments, racing to stay ahead of the disease in my body and struggling to keep our heads above the financial waters. If you'd really like to help, pray. Pray for success with our upcoming IVF. Pray for financial provision. Pray for peace and comfort during this season, as we should be celebrating our daughter's first birthday. And take a closer look at your children, and say a special prayer of thanks."
I do wonder what would happen if I turned to someone and said that...

Happy-sad.

This is one of those things that most people don't know. So as to avoid spreading news that isn't mine to spread... I'll just say that someone I know and love very much is soon to marry the spouse of their dreams (and of the dreams I have for him or her). The result is what I've always wanted, but... it will mean that instead of 30 minutes to go see this individual, it will be at least a 2 hour drive. But what a small sacrifice to see this happen! Looking at sometime this spring.

Second, I spoke tonight with my dad about my gramma - how much we miss her. How much we wish certain things could have happened. He's dating a woman who only got to meet Gramma one time (or was it twice?) before the accident. He was having a hard time on the way home from church last night, thinking about how much he wishes his girlfriend could have gotten to know her. I wish that too - my Gramma was an absolutely amazing woman and his girlfriend deserves to have known her. Now it won't happen this side of heaven.

Finally... We're on supression meds right now, and will be for the next three months, until we are ready to embark down the road of IVF. Lots of turmoil surrounding that. No issue with whether we should or shouldn't - that's been decided for quite a while, and we've got peace. The turmoil is in dealing with all that comes with it. Finances, while certainly not a deciding issue or factor, certainly are still an issue. We can swing it - by God's grace. We'll be paying it off for at least a year or two, barring significant outside help, but it's worth it. We've got faith that this will work the first time. I don't have any doubt - not really. The question does get shoved into my head from time to time - what if it DOESN'T work - that's a lot of money down the drain? But My God IS God, a faithful God. We truly believe that this is the way for us to go, and the way that HE would have for us to go. Most of the turmoil is in the arena of support. My dad is supportive and by far the best dad on the planet (I'm biased, but so what?) My father-in-law is supportive too. My mother-in-law wants a child (or children) for us almost as badly as we do, so there is definately support and compassion coming in there. But I miss Gramma - I could talk to her about it all, and she knew what to do (usually), and if she didn't know, she'd say so. She didn't understand all the time, but was as supportive as anybody could be. I had a vague idea at one point that I would have similar (probably not as much or as "close" as with gramma) support from my mom. Thought maybe I could talk to her about it, like when I was much younger and we talked about everything. But it's not happening. She's convinced that all the fertility treatments are sin, messing with God's will, and probably going to result only in heartache and likely death. :( I tried to tell her that we'd done our research, done our praying, and consulted with spiritually mature people on the matter, and that what I need is support, not constant nay-saying and gloom-and-doom prophesies. She said she was sorry. And then that she was entitled to her opinion, and as long as we were doing "that stuff" (referring to fertility treatments) she would voice her concerns, as she'd done a lot of reading. (What reading? If properly administered and monitored, many fertility treatments are safer than a lot of conventional treatments for things like asthma, eczema, depression, insomnia...) And that she'd make SURE we knew how worried and concerned she was. But that we'd have her full support. I guess I don't see those as going hand in hand. Mentioning concerns or fears, asking questions, yes. Spending twenty minutes of a twenty two minute conversation telling me how badly we're screwing up and going to get hurt... not so much. **shrug** I guess this is really my chance to lean on God for support and comfort.

Time.

I'm not complaining - I've been blessed with more "free time" than most people I know. And it IS very nice to have that freedom. Trouble is... sometimes it grates on me. I'm trying to start up our business, and I feel like with no direction, no input, and no interaction, it's a dead-end road. I know it isn't - I trust my husband on this one. It's just frustrating right now.

In the time since I wrote last... many things have changed. And yet, in a lot of ways, everything is still all the same. I'm still learning to paint with oils - although the last two and a half weeks have been anything but conducive. My husband and I are still trying to have a baby. Well, sort of.

I just had another laparoscopy to clean up a little bit of endometriosis - turns out that was a misconception we had going into it. This second surgery was far more extensive (AND PAINFUL) than the first. I had a hysteroscopy, too, which has caused some issues (18 days out of surgery, I'm still bleeding quite a bit, and it shows - I'm tired, weak, dizzy, but mostly I'm just COOOOOLLLLLLDDDDD all the time.) that are FINALLY starting to resolve (I think). I'm on a hormonal medication for my uterus and also on birth control, and as soon as I finish this particular hormonal med, I'll be moving on to a much heavier-duty one for the next several months.

briefing

I guess I'm not sure what I should write, or even what I'd LIKE to write. Other than to say this...

I haven't forgotten her. And I haven't forgotten the shock, the pain, the gut-wrenching agony of losing her. And it still comes back, some times. But it's more appropriate now. More in context, a little more hopeful. And yet...

I wish she was here. So much I wish she could guide me, and us, through. So many questions. But most of all, to tell her that her life mattered. To tell her the she is my hero, the one person on this planet I truly want to be like. And that she is an incredible blessing.

I Wish I Knew...

I wish I knew exactly what I'd done to get to this point in dealing with Gramma's death. What point is that? The point where I do still miss her, very much. And I often times still cry when I think of her. And I'd do almost anything to bring her back, because I still need her, and my little cousin Hannah needs her far more than I. Grampa needs her. My husband needs her. So many people need her... and she's not here.
And yet, with all this, there is the unspeakable peace and joy (although not the sort of joy you might imagine... this is more of a deep-down-know-that-I'm-okay-forever thing than a happy ha-ha-fun thing). I KNOW that she is in heaven. And as I was reminded last night... to depart and be with Christ is by far the best. God didn't say how or when... at any time, under any circumstance, it's by far the best to depart and be with Christ.
I feel that I am most privileged to be part of my church. I know he is "only" a man... but I also know that my Pastor is truly obeying the call of God for his life. I've known pastors that weren't called, and while they do their job very well, that's sort of what it is - a job. As my Pastor has said before, he doesn't "do pastoring" for a living... he simply is a pastor. In that, I'm blessed.
Finally, the thing right now that is hardest about not having Gramma is not really having any outside support regarding fertility treatments. It's a lonely road, and a tough one. Having someone to talk to about it, someone who wasn't personally going through it, someone who was older and wiser, made it so much more bearable. Without that, it does seem overwhelming. I'm not saying I've got no support at all. I do have that. Mostly and firstly from my husband, but also to lesser degree from a few (and yes, only a few) family members, as well as a couple people I do look up to. But the general consensus does seem to be that I'm going against God, or doing something blatantly sinful, or lacking faith by doing this stuff. One of my dear forum friends provided this helpful story...
A man is at home one night when the levee breaks in his town. Water is rising fast, and he cries out to God to save him. A couple minutes later, a man comes by in a boat, and says "Get in... I'll help you." The first man declines, saying his ride is taken care of. As the boat fades from view, the man again cries out to God. A few minutes later, a larger boat with several people in it approaches and implores him to get in. He refuses again, saying that God will save him. He cries out again - desperately this time, as the water is at least 10 feet deep and cold - and implores his God to save him. Less than 30 seconds pass, and a Coast Guard helicopter hovers above him, and lowers a ladder. Refusing once again, the man sadly begins swimming for the distant shore. He drowns, all the while waiting for God to come and save him. He goes to heaven, and asks God, "Lord, I asked you three times to save you. I stood in faith. I believed. And yet I died. Why?" The Lord answers "I sent you two boats and a helicopter... what more did you want???"
What people need to understand is that it takes a lot of faith to undergo the treatments we're doing. Faith that we won't have any side effects. Faith that the treatments will do what they are intended to do. Faith that in spite of a distinct lack of support, we'll be okay. Most of all, faith that our miracle will happen. Because even with the treatments, the procedures, the monitoring, the medications... for us to conceive and carry and give birth to a child will be nothing short of miraculous. I wish I knew a way to make people see that.

Once Again...

Last time I wrote here was the day before a meeting with my Pastor. It does seem only fitting that I'd write again now - exactly 28 days later. Tomorrow evening, we've got another meeting with our Pastor. I'm not really sure what about... well, obviously, it's about gramma. The uncertainty comes in when I try to contemplate what will be said. Not much by me, I'm sure - if all I needed was an ear, any random person of compassion would suffice. What I need is guidance. Not flakey platitudes, not reassurance that I'm doing 'just fine' and I really don't need to be reminded that it's not my fault. I still feel that it is, at least in part, my fault. Not that I did it on purpose, but more that some things I've done set of a chain reaction that eventually led to this.

This meeting will see me in better shape spiritually, which is good. My husband says that I've improved emotionally, which is good as well. Inside, I am not sure I feel at all better, but for the most part, I am better. Not all better. But some. When I do think of her, I still cry, a lot. And when I don't think of her, I feel sad for not thinking to do so.

Unfounded Fear

I have an unfounded fear that tomorrow's meeting may hold rebuke for me. And I don't know why I'm afraid of that prospect, except maybe because I don't know what I've possibly done wrong. It certainly isn't fear of rebuke, or fear of rebuke by my Pastor specifically - I've been rebuked fairly sternly before by him and it isn't a bad thing. He's the first person I've known who could so sternly rebuff/rebuke and still be oozing compassion and concern and Godly love.
The other fear I have is that he'll ask if I blame myself. And the mere question implies innocence, complete innocence, on my part. And that isn't reality. Reality is, specific actions that I can trace back well over a year headed up a chain reaction, and while I did not cause the milk truck to obliterate the van, I do firmly adhere to the belief that what happened can be directly traced to my actions. And that had I chosen to respond differently, had I chosen faith and obedience over outright rebellion, she would still be here. And in his questions, I'm afraid I'll have to get specific. I doubt the answer of "within the last two years, I willfully and deliberately committed an act of rebellion" will be satisfactory. I have told God, and only God, when I confessed and repented, truly repented, and NOBODY else has a clue what it could be. And awful though it sounds, the thing that scares me most about revealing it in the meeting tomorrow is having to see the disappointment and sadness on my husband's face. How lame is that?
All that being said - even if I have to spill every gory detail - I will do it in order to restore right standing in my life. Because if I don't change I'm on a bad bad road, and it will lead only to destruction. And worse yet, separation from God. And that is the one, the only thing that I can not do without.

Bring The Rain
~Mercy Me

I can count a million times
People asking me how I
Can praise You with
all that I've gone through
The question just amazes me
Can circumstances possibly
Change who I forever am in You
Maybe since my life was changed

Long before these rainy days
It's never really ever crossed my mind
To turn my back on you, oh Lord
My only shelter from the storm
But instead I draw closer
through these times

So I pray
Bring me joy, bring me peace
Bring the chance to be free
Bring me anything that brings You glory
And I know there'll be days
When this life brings me pain
But if that's what it takes to praise You
Jesus, bring the rain

I am Yours regardless of
The dark clouds that may loom above
Because You are much greater than my pain
You who made a way for me
By suffering Your destiny
So tell me what's a little rain
So I pray

Holy, holy, holy
Is the Lord God Almighty

Am I Still?

I look at the title of this blog, and think back to when I started it. Almost exactly four months back. At that time I could see so clearly that I was (and was continuing to be) living proof of God's goodness and grace. The past month or so, I've been struggling. Struggling more than I have even considered admitting to anyone. And worse than that, lately, I've not been struggling. Just complacent. And that's even worse.
Tonight I am pondering this - if someone is watching me for evidence of who God is, and what He can do - will they see any proof? Or have I been so negligent as to let my fire grow dim and my zeal grow cold? And I wonder, have I encountered those who are reaching out, and been so wrapped up in myself that I haven't seen or haven'g care? How many times?
I need to change. And I'm seeing that I'm going to need help to do that. It's scary to reach out and ask for this... I'm afraid of getting hurt even more. Or what if when I reach out, I just get told the things I already know - it's time to move on; she'd want me strong, she'd want me happy; think of the needs of others and get over myself; draw closer to God; spend more time in His word; Christ will never leave; I'll see her again. All true. And all things I already know and am trying my best to implement. I need more than knowing those. I need help. And I don't like admitting that, don't like asking, and most of all, don't like that I've let it get this bad before doing anything about it.

Mother's Day

48 hours from now, I'll be getting ready to turn in for the night. And then, when I wake up, it will be Mother's Day. An interesting day for me. I have a mother. She, like every other person on this planet, is imperfect. Flawed. Broken. But she is my mother. And she gave me life. Not only that - she's done so much to make my life better. She doesn't see it, and doesn't believe it. But I am glad she is my mother. I wouldn't trade her for anything. Few people can love with the intensity she does.
In spite of this... I will be spending a large portion of Mother's Day alone, at least physically. I will go to church... I need that. I know I do. As soon as that first service is over, I will walk into the parking lot and get into my car. If I am crying, I will gain composure. I will find a greenhouse, and buy a flower. Then I will drive to the little cemetary in the country. I'll park my vehicle. I'll walk down a gravel path, cross over dirt and grass. Sit beside an unmarked grave. The resting place of the greatest woman I've ever known. Well... not HER resting place. Her body's resting place. There, I will plant the flower. I've given her a plant every year of my life. And I can't give her anything now. But by doing this, I feel like maybe it's a way to remember, a way to honor her. I don't know how long I will stay. Maybe it will be for five minutes. Or maybe five hours. Maybe more. I really don't know.

Adios...

Adios is an interesting word. It's used to say "good-bye" or "see you later." Break down the word... it means "to God." I'm so grateful that Gramma is with Him... it's sort of adios....

I'm looking at the last gift gramma gave me... and that's what's making me so glad that she's with Him. It's a picture and a note that I made for her on February 11th, 1990. It was my way of telling Gramma that I had asked Jesus into my heart. And given my life to Him.

He's stayed with me this whole time, and no matter how much life hurts, He'll get me through it.

Turn Around

I've been struggling with certain areas of my life (spiritually, mostly). Doing everything I can do to make things right, make them better. And it's not been working. I resolve to do something, and it doesn't happen. Not because I refuse - because I say "YES, I AM going to do this..." and then I don't think of it. And that scares me a bit.

On Friday, I went to a meeting/church service. John Bevere (some of you have heard of him, I'm sure) was preaching. God's been listening and hearing me... because this meeting addressed several of the issues I've been fighting - actually, all but two - and gave me the tools I need to move forward. I'm starting the twelve week series today. And while I know that time will have pass to see that this is true, Friday was definately a turning point.

I won't write more here today, at least not until later tonight. I'm not sure what else I can (or should, or even want to) say.

Healing...

I spent the majority of today searching. Ostensibly, I was searching for whooping cranes. And, I guess I sort of was. But why? Because there is something about their majesty, and their call (the sound that I believe to be one of the most wild a person can hear), and their rarity... makes me feel a little closer to God somehow. I would guess it's because those things are something they share with our God... He's the most majestic. He's the wildest. He's so rare - there's no other, ANYWHERE.

But I wasn't just searching for them... I was searching for a connection. A connection with God. A connection where comfort flowed in. Because now, more than in the past three months in many regards, I need comfort. Comfort and reassurance... God, and God alone, knows why exactly this is. Today, while standing at the top of a 30 foot observation tower, I had the privilege of watching two weather fronts collide and brew up a storm. Thunder rumbling constantly, lighting flashing from cloud to cloud, bands of rain racing across the marshland. It played out in front of me like a theater, a production put on just for me, by a God who took a moment to say He's there and He does care.

In spite of all this, I feel somehow empty and alone tonight. My husband is here with me. And I love him so much. I'm concerned I've let him think I don't want or need him... or that I've made him think he doesn't have anything to offer... or that I've taken our marriage for granted. It's weird... I want to curl up on the couch and just talk and snuggle. But I don't know what I'd say. And I'm scared that if I reveal what's really inside, and my husband does what he so often has lately (listens with compassion, and then in a desperate attempt to avoid the pain in himself and to avoid causing me more pain, starts joking around about things unrelated), I'll get so angry with him. Besides, I'm not even sure what is inside.

I leave with this... very early Sunday morning, I dreamt about Gramma. In the dream, we were alone together. I was talking to her, and she was talking to me. I remember almost every question I asked, but none of the answers. I was asking about death... did she know before she died that she was dying? Was she scared? Was she excited to see Jesus? Did that excitement over ride the grief of leaving us? Did it hurt? Did she see herself? Did she know how she was going to die?

Today, as I drove the 75 miles to the wildlife refuge, I thought repeatedly that she would have loved to go on that trip with me. By the time I got there, most of the excitement of the day had worn off for missing her. And I would have loved to have her there. To talk, to laugh... hug... share the beauty of God's world with each other. And I wish I could ask her the questions that burn in the back of my mind.

Only Dreaming...

I dreamt about her last night. First time in quite a while. In the dream, she was watching us, and talking to us - and laughed and smiled, but I don't remember what she said or what she sounded like. My whole family could see her and talk to her. At the end of the dream, I said to her, "Gramma... I wish you were still alive. I don't want to take this trip all alone." That made her look so sad. And then I woke up.
I'm glad God designed us to be dreamers. Because while I have no illusions about this particular dream being from Him (it definately wasn't), I'm grateful to have seen her. Even though it wasn't her... I don't know if that makes sense at all. Anyway, now I'm off.

Lessons...

On Sunday, we learned about help at church. What about it? We learned that if you need it, you need to ask for it. Ask, and then ask, and ask, and ask until you get it. Perhaps my God had me in mind when He had my Pastor teach on this...

The thing is, I don't know if I actually do need help. In many ways, I really am okay. I'm not depressed, I'm not having any issues with suicide or anything else like that. And while yes, I do wish that I had someone to talk to, someone who would just listen... someone who is a woman, a woman older than me, someone who is Godly and of an upright character... someone trust-worthy, Spirit-filled, gentle (but firm when needed)... someone like the ladies I listed previously... I don't know what I'd say. What does a person say in a situation like that?? "Um... I'm sad." ??? I am sad. But I don't think that's bad. I don't think that it's bad to miss her. The part that I think isn't quite as it should be is how much I cry. And how, no matter what the day holds, I think of her no less than every 15 minutes or so.
I act like I'm doing okay, maybe even like I'm doing great. I say I'm doing well. I try to tell myself that too. And I don't actually know if I am okay... although that really makes no sense, does it?

Nothing...

Nothing much to say tonight. I did want to say thank you to whoever it is that read yesterday's post and left a comment earlier. It's strange - it does help to receive encouragement like that. And it's all something that I DO know in my head - and in my heart. It's just that so much of me is saying NO to the idea that I'm not at fault here. I've been praying a lot the past week or so - asking God for help. Asking Him to help me either get over this absolute conviction that I killed this wonderful and amazing woman, or else help me to be okay with that. Although how anybody could be okay with that, I just don't know.
My heart aches right now, but in the end, I KNOW that eternity awaits me. And I am so excited for that. I wish I didn't have to wait...

Charades

I feel like I'm living one endless charade. One where what I'm portraying is someone who's doing very well, and has it together, is happy, is okay. Yes, in some ways, I AM doing very well, and I DO hold it together... And there are moments of happiness... and I'm sort of okay. But really, I miss her so much. And I feel like I should be okay now - or at least be better than I am. Be happy. I feel like I shouldn't be crying when nobody is looking. I feel like I shouldn't spend so very much time thinking about her. And yet... none of it is so. I ache inside. It's like everything good is tempered with sorrow. Yesterday, we had an Easter celebration at my uncle's house. It was good to see everyone, but I felt like it was an empty imitation of what it used to be like. And that's not right - not even close. The true meaning, which is Jesus, is still the same.

Questions

I have questions. My doctor will answer some... like should I be worried about the dizziness? Is there something I can do to lessen or eliminate it? What about the balance and clumsiness issue? The nausea? Maybe I've just got a bug, I don't know.
The questions that really matter... they can't be answered by my doctor. I want to know about heaven. I want to know what the people there see and/or know about those of us here. I want to know if it's okay to talk to God and ask Him to let them know things - and also, if it IS okay to ask, what about Him doing it... will He? Does He? How's it work?
If my focus is on God... and I believe it is... how come I miss her so much? How come I can't bring myself to talk to anybody about it? There's so few people I'd even consider... My Pastor, but I don't know about that - seems like it's not something I should take his time up with... or Pastor Quam, maybe... Edie, for sure... Shawn... maybe Lynn, but just a little. Jeanne, perhaps, a little - she has a light-hearted exterior, but she loves God and she loves people... I just don't know. There's plenty of people who would be willing beyond the ones I mentioned, but I just can't see doing it. And I don't know what I'd say anyway... In some ways, I want to move on and not miss her so much, not cry so much. In so many other ways, I'm not ready to do that. And even if I was - there's so many reminders, I don't think it would happen anyway.
Found a good song today - I like the words a lot. And it's good to listen to. Here's the words:

Bring The Rain
~MercyMe

I can count a million times
People asking me how I
Can praise You with all that
I've gone through
The question just amazes me
Can circumstances possibly
Change who I forever am in You

Maybe since my life was changed
Long before these rainy days
It's never really ever crossed my mind
To turn my back on you, oh Lord
My only shelter from the storm
But instead I draw closer through these times

So I pray
Bring me joy, bring me peace
Bring the chance to be free
Bring me anything that brings You glory
And I know there'll be days
When this life brings me pain
But if that's what it takes to praise You
Jesus, bring the rain

I am Yours regardless of
The dark clouds that may loom above
Because You are much greater than my pain
You who made a way for me
By suffering Your destiny
So tell me what's a little rain

So I pray
Bring me joy, bring me peace
Bring the chance to be free
Bring me anything that brings You glory
And I know there'll be days
When this life brings me pain
But if that's what it takes to praise You
Jesus, bring the rain

Holy, holy, holy
Is the Lord God Almighty

Plans...

I don't know if I'll follow through on this, because it is a little selfish. And it is also a bit sad, a little pathetic... but it's really what I want. On Mother's day - I want Derek to take his mom out for lunch. And while he's doing that, I want to go to Gramma's grave. By myself. With a little potted plant and a little digging thing, and plant a flower. I don't know if it would live or not... but that's what I want to do. Mother's Day, for me, is the day that I buy a little potted flower and give it to Gramma. And talk to her. And tell her how much she means to me. That I love her. That I couldn't have gotten through my childhood without her. That I owe her more than I could ever repay. That try as I may to be "unique" I'm really just like her. Even the annoying parts - which, though they may be annoying, aren't bad. I can't think of anything bad about her. I know she wasn't a perfect person - had her share of flaws. But really, she's the best woman I've ever known. She's shaped me into who I am - did the best she coulud to make sure I turned out okay. And really, that's what mothers are supposed to be. I've got a mom. I've got a relationship with her that I cherish - a relationship I wasn't sure I'd ever have. Gramma didn't replace her... but, to quote something she wrote in her book to me..."My mother couldn't take care of me & for some unknown reason, neither could yours. I know I can not take her place, but I also know that I loved my grandma as a mother and God made it enough."
That's the best way I know to put it - I loved Gramma fiercely, and in many ways, loved her as a mother (not in PLACE of a mother - just AS a mother). And God made that enough. He made that MORE than enough.
And I just want to spend at least a while on Mother's day with her. I know it's not with her, not really. But if I am there, at her grave, by myself... in the country, where it's quiet and I can really hear myself think, maybe I'll hear something better and more important - God speaking to my heart. Comforting. Encouraging. And maybe He'll help me through, help me know what to do. And maybe, while I'm there in honor of her and in hopes of having God help me... maybe God will let her know that? Maybe she'll see... or maybe He'll tell her... I'm not sure how all that works, but I know there's nothing wrong with asking God to tell her that I love her. And there's definately nothing wrong with asking Him for help and comfort.