Yet, let’s not sugar coat the rawness of the facts. Life has been one huge storm for me in the last few years. Every time I think that nothing more can possibly happen – I get surprised with yet more to journey through. Really – I can cope a little while without an existential crisis! I eagerly try to glance past what is my “now” in the hope of a preview of something new, something life giving and something that brings an abundance of joy.
Recently, the storm has raged, and I’ve felt a little lost at sea. It has been a really difficult time for us as a family. We have spent the last 2.5 years surrounded by illness, death or preparing for death, with it claiming 5 of our family in that short time. We had the curse of watching 4 succumb to the grip of cancer. Watching the familiar routines happen around us with no ability to change the outcome. Watching as my mum fought so hard and lose her battle in this world but yet enter the freedom of Heaven and being with Jesus. It feels like the grim reaper is chasing us down one by one and in October we stood in the corridor of death waiting for the door of death to open once again – this time my dad. He too fought hard but chose the greater option of being completely free and with my mum.
It's a very different dynamic when both parents are gone. I had to reassess where I am anchored, who I am, what defines me. You realise how much they anchored you to the wider family and how they influenced most of what you do or don't do.
It's a very strange time! One with many complicated decisions to make.
One of the things I had to consider recently was a possible relocation to Co. Armagh where all my sisters live. This would've meant leaving my church in Belfast as it wouldn't be possible to be a fully committed part of the church as I would like. I'm an "all or nothing" kind of girl and it would mean things like lifegroup, being part of worship, attending social and church events so much more difficult with a 100 mile round trip up to several times a week. I didn't think this would be wise to try and keep a foot in both camps, living life in two locations.
Even though I doubted I could move back to a place I no longer had roots or community (other than my direct family), I did have to give it serious consideration, which gave me an opportunity to reflect.
I suddenly realised how anchored I was. This was a realisation that surprised even me, having spent a long season feeling "like an outsider", like I didn't belong, feeling unanchored completely. Yet, when I thought about it. When I considered relocating, I start to count the cost of making this decision. What that would mean? What I would lose? What I would miss out on? (FOMO), the people I wouldn't see so often, or get to be a bigger part of their lives. I realised the cost was too high to uproot myself. It was too much to miss and it made me feel really humbled and grateful for those people that have journey this season with me.
Thankful is not something I am particularly good at most of the time to be honest. I am a typical sceptic at heart and I am always wondering "what's the catch?". An immediate springboard thought that has been learned over many painful experiences. So, I rarely have an expectation of good. That’s what makes it so interesting that it’s in a season of darkness where it has suddenly dawned on me I have such a lot to be thankful for.
So…..
Thank you to those of you who have journeyed this with me and who are willing to continue journeying with me. Thank you for your intentionality, your kindness, your practical help, your willingness to let me cry and just sit with it. Your willingness to pray for me, pray with me, meet up with me, have coffee / lunch, the list is endless. You were few but you were mighty!
You just came alongside, were willing to stand in that awkward gap or not knowing what to say or not knowing what to do, or me not knowing how to respond. Willingness goes a long way and you had the willingness to push past that awkwardness. There are no great profound words, or christianese but the really, really comforting thing is that you cried with me, were compassionate towards me, embraced me (so important to me with touch being my primary love language). Often asking what you could do even though I couldn't respond at times. I didn't really know what I needed or what I wanted but just being around people, just being part of something, just being included was comforting. I'm so grateful for that. I'm so grateful for people not assuming that I was too upset, or too worried, or had enough going on to communicate with me but were invitational and willing to allow me to make decisions for myself. Thank you for those who point me to Jesus and help me get there instead of trying to be Him for me.
On a side note, for those of us that are tactile, like myself, hugs are the best medicine ever, especially those hugs that are from the heart that gather you really close tight in and really say "I don't have the words, but I'm here, I'm showing you that I love you, I'm showing you that I'm here for you, I'm showing you that I'm walking with you”
It hasn't gone unnoticed and has been very much appreciated especially because I've really struggled to ask, and even when I have asked, it hasn't been very coherent. Thank you that you were able to see between the lines and weren't afraid to be in a hard, awkward place with me that had no rules or structure, on a path that wasn't easy to follow.
I just really feel so grateful and really in the midst of something so difficult and so much loss, yet there is so much discovery, so much revelation, and so much realisation of the fact that it is not an end but it's the start of something new. It's the start of something containing absence but one that that contains hope that much more is to come.
Hopefully, sowing seed and taking all of the goodness of what mum and dad gave to me and go forward with that. Taking responsibility, being accountable and on a journey of becoming the best I can be, the best version of me. Not because I need to perform, not because I need to earn, but because it’s an opportunity to grow, to stretch myself, become more, cultivating intimacy with Jesus that will release me into freedom that I've never known.
It reminds me of Psalm 23 where it says "He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside still waters, He restores my soul”
I feel this new season is one of Jesus making me (or inviting me to) lie down in green pastures, saying "don’t run away". Teaching me to lay down the cycles of avoidance and stop running away. To stop being fearful of being close to people. The green pastures to me are a symbol of health, vitality and life that only come through a life of connection. Sometimes (a lot of times) it hurts. Sometimes people hurt you and sometimes you hurt people but navigating this arena and loving people well is where the freedom is found and is the reward for being willing to do the hard work.
Thank you – I’m so grateful.
