Sometimes life just hits you

My cup runneth over. This is something my mom refers to from time to time. It is a phrase that speaks to her about the abundance of emotion that can come with life. The idea of being filled to the point of overflow, not in an "i'm drowning" kind of way but in a "blown away" and humbling kind of way.

I had one of those moments today. I stood in one of the rooms in our house (it may be important to note that this room was clean and I was not the one that cleaned it. That fact alone may have been the catalyst that allowed this moment to happen.) and I looked at the walls. I saw shelves filled with books and photo frames: our honeymoon, Bill's grandfather, a beautiful baby frame that I never had time to put a picture in (#reallife)...I looked up and saw artwork on the walls from our many trips to Africa. As my eyes moved across the room from the posters of renaissance paintings that hung on our walls in college to wall clings of sesame street characters my heart welled up and so did my eyes. My cup runneth over.

Could I be this lucky? Is it possible to be 35 and already have a life so full of beautiful moments? I looked at the treadmill where I had just been running. How many miles have I logged on that machine? Running to fit into a wedding dress, running to burn off the baby weight, running to fight through stressful moments, running with praise music in my ears and almost falling off because I started dancing with joy!

I looked at the toys in the corner and thought back to all the afternoons pretending. As I looked at the peeling and weathered version of Elmo, Ernie and Cookie Monster I cried harder as I realized that we don't watch Sesame Street anymore. When did that stop? How long will they let me hold onto these silly wall decorations before they are embarrassed?

Their little lives bring me the greatest joy. Also the most stress I have ever known. I woke up today cranky, thinking to myself "if that boy doesn't start sleeping..." and I couldn't think of even a slightly reasonable way to finish that sentence. I felt powerless, frustrated and tired.

The days can be like that. The choices we have made and the paths we have followed have been full of faith-filled risks. They have led to some of the most incredible moments and some of the hardest seasons we have ever had to face.

Grief - When God's Not Done With You Yet

God’s Not done with you.

This song played on the radio incessantly during the month of August when we were watching my father die. Every time I got in the car it would be the first or second song to come on the radio. Sometimes I listened and sometimes I had to shut it off. I wanted to have hope. I wanted it to be a message for my dad. The song made me angry at God because I felt like God WAS done with him. Why was he taking him now? There is so much more we wanted to include him in. It wasn’t fair and this song just kept reminding me of that. How do you reconcile a song that says God’s not done when you know that a life is ending against your will? Yet deep down, I knew even then that the song was not for my Dad it was for me. I just wasn’t ready to hear it yet.

The truth is God wasn’t done with my Dad, either. I watched my dad as he patiently and peacefully submitted to his fate and willingly sought after God to bring him home. My dad had made peace with his death. It feels like God is abandoning the fight when you watch a loved one slip away. I knew all the Christian answers and I was giving them to people as they would come to say their goodbye. “Heaven is it’s own kind of healing.”, “God knows things we don’t and his timing is always perfect.” It didn’t feel like God was working though. It was torture to see my dad lay in bed, unable to communicate and not know how to help him. We didn’t know if he was awake or resting, hot or cold, in pain or in peace. In the early afternoon of what became the day he died, I had cried out to God, “if your plan is to take him to heaven, just do it already, this is unbearable!”

It was then that God opened my eyes to see that my Dad was not suffering. His heart was beating strong. His legs were not swollen with fluids, there were no bed sores or painful infections, his breathing was not labored or painful. Having watched other loved ones walk this path, I knew that God was protecting him from a much more difficult ending. He was dying but the transition was effortless. In his final moments we did not get a smile or any sign that communicated God was there like we had hoped to see and my Dad had wanted to give us. His breathing simply got slower and slower. He faded away every so gently. The last thing to stop was his heart. Looking back now, I can see a beauty in the calm. There were no alarms, no violent coughs or gasps for air, no signs of struggle or pain. Just peace and surrender. What felt like God abandoning the plan was in fact a very loving and gentle end to a heroic life.

Since my Dad’s passing, we have lost another close friend. Upon hearing the news, I had a vision of my Dad welcoming her into heaven. I saw him take her by the hand and wrap one arm over he shoulders. I heard him welcome her and tell her it was all going to be okay. My mom had the same vision. It brought me comfort that my Dad hasn’t changed a bit, he is still being the loving, caring person he is and welcoming others.

So back to the song. It has continued to pop up on every playlist or station I turn to. “God’s not done with you, even when your lost and it’s hard and you’re falling apart.” I knew even then that it wasn’t a message about my Dad. The song was for me, my life. God isn’t done working. At first, I wasn’t ready to hear it. I don’t like thinking about what’s next because I haven’t managed to wrap my mind around what just happened. The world around me keeps moving forward but time for me stands still. I have been asking for God to come and find me in my grief. To show me a way forward with the rest of the world.

It’s possible that today He has answered my prayers. This morning my plan was to drop the kids at school and come back for a run. This is my routine most days. As I sipped my coffee and made my way through the house, I got the sense that it wasn’t time for a run. Stubborn as always, I kept making my way toward the treadmill. I checked my phone and saw a message “We were saved to worship.” It caused me to pause but I kept moving toward my run while pondering the image. Was I healed from my cancer so I could continue to worship God? What does that even mean? How is it different from what I was doing before? I love music, it speaks to me, but there must be something I am supposed to DO with my life. Then I couldn’t find the ipad that I normally use to put on a movie while I run. I took another lap around the house and was unsuccessful in finding it, so I decided with trepidation that I was going to have to run to music today. Music has been hard for me since my Dad passed. Sometimes songs still connect but most of the time I struggle to find joy in the words that used to bring me great motivation. I am still stuck, trying to make sense of a world without my dad and the music in my life had been off beat. Yet this morning in the car there was a song that caused me to pause. I stayed in the car until it was done. It was a message about running to God again and again and again. A surgeon for your heart and a friend for your soul. Maybe somehow my rhythm is back and the music will be good for my run today.

I laced up my shoes, turned on the treadmill. I unpaused my music station. Immediately…“God’s not done with you…” I made it about 20 steps before the words of the song overpowered me and I had to sit down. I melted into a puddle of tears as they washed over me.

Standing in your ruins,

Feels a lot like the end

So used to losing,

You're afraid to try again

Right now all you see are ashes

Where there was a flame

Truth is that you're not forgotten

'Cause grace knows your name

God's not done with you

Even with your broken heart and your wounds and your scars

God's not done with you

Even when you're lost and it's hard and you've fallen apart

God's not done with you

It's not over, it's only begun

So don't hide, don't run

'Cause God's not done

With you.

There's a light you don't notice

Until you're standing in the dark

And there's a strength that's growing

Inside your shattered heart

God's not done with you

Even when you're lost and it's hard and you've fallen apart

He's got a plan, this is part of it

He's gonna finish what He started

God's not done writing your story

As the song ended I pushed pause again and sat there. This message has been like a broken record in my life. Returning at all the wrong moments and getting stuck in my head so that I hear it whenever my heart gets quiet.

I began to think back over the past week of all the people God has placed on my heart. I have felt drawn to pray over others often. This week alone, I have had more than 5 people from broken moments in my past reach out in a fresh way and seek comfort from me again. I have heard more than a dozen times “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this, I should be reaching out to help you, you’re the one going through something.” Still, I felt compelled to extend grace and hope to them instead of the other way around.

Scripture says that God is faithful to finish the good work he began in us. When I got dressed this morning I put on the matching hoodie that I have with my Dad. It says “Cancer only made this family Stronger.” I still don’t know why I get to be here and he was chosen for heaven. I do know that he asked God for exactly that, when I was diagnosed he asked God to let it be him instead. I don’t think God works like that, but I do think my father believed there was so much more to my story. He could see that God was not done with me yet. So I am letting God use the story of cancer in my life to make me stronger. I keep running in faith because that is what my dad would want me to do. God’s not done writing my story, he’s gonna finish what he started.

This doesn’t mean I may not be a puddle of tears again tomorrow, but it does mean that I am trusting God to guide me through this. I am leaning on him and listening closer than I ever have before. I am following his light through this darkness one step at a time. I want to embody the same peaceful surrender I saw in my father during his last days. I want to humbly and patiently wait on God and fully trust him for what’s next. Just like my Dad’s last days when he was waiting for heaven, the final destination is clear but the way is unknown, God’s timing is unknown, but GOD IS KNOWN…and that’s enough for today. Fear and despair won’t win.

God’s not done with me yet.

Hear the Song