Tag: uncensored thoughts

Hold Longer

August 17, 2021

Hold Longer

A song came on the radio today. It was the first time I heard it. Casting Crowns’ song called “Scars In Heaven” played while I was on the way to after school pickup.

The first line says “…if I had known it was the last time…”

I almost cried. I prayed, “thank you, Jesus,” because the last time I saw my Daddy on Earth I did “know.” It was a nudge, a distant feeling I almost tried to brush aside in disgust.

Of course this isn’t the last time I’ll talk with Daddy, I told myself.

But I listened to the nudge. I’m forever thankful for that nudge.

I waited until I would be almost late to pick Christina up from the library (it was going to close). I hugged him tighter than normal. I did just what the singer of the song is lamenting he didn’t do. I have always tried to listen to that tiny nudge of a voice that usually is right in the back of my head. My mind usually tries to argue with it. Like then. I tried to brush that feeling away because even though my Daddy’s health wasn’t great, I didn’t want to believe I would ever walk in and not find him sitting there, ready for long talks, vibrant discussions, and heartfelt conversations.

I heard the singer’s heart hurt as he sang of how if he’d known, he would have held on longer, hugged tighter, talked longer… But we never really know.

God tells us no man knows the hour or day of his own passing.

My father and baby sister are in heaven. My baby never met her Boompa. I didn’t really cry or grieve for them. They were both prepared for death. Both loved Jesus and are now in His presence. I can’t logically cry for them. (I’m way too logical over deep things but I find it’s the silly little stuff that makes me cry.) I wasn’t ready for either of them to go. Just like we are often not ready to die, we are also never ready for a loved one to die.

My Daddy gave me a special gift long ago… He had grown up without his mother (she died when he was 12) and when we were living in Sylvania and had a friend with cancer, he once said, “enjoy every day, you never know when Erica will go home.”

So true. I couldn’t even cry for her. She loved Jesus and let everyone know how excited she was about getting to see Him.

That life lesson has stayed with me. I never don’t say bye or I love you. I leave them with a smile. I don’t ever want someone’s last thought of me or my last thought of them to be bitter. I live as if each time I leave someone it may be the last time I see them. Not that I’m reckless or clingy, but I’m open, honest, and speak the truth about my love for them.

I never want someone to regret their last meeting with me.

I always listen to that nudge. I’m so grateful for God’s warning I got that afternoon… For the happy call from Charley in Mom’s kitchen six months later with Mom & Mary when I brought Christina to loan her some deposit money… For the happy memories of talking a bit longer, hugging a bit tighter, saying “I love you” before I left.

Always hold a bit tighter, hug a little stronger, chat a bit longer; always say “I love you.”

I hope you listen to that song. I pray you always remember to love while you have the time.

Type at you later,

~Nancy Tart

Evaluations

January 29, 2021

Evaluations

This week and next week are skills testing weeks at gym. Evaluations of skills each gymnast has and their ability to move up or stay in their current level to solidify their knowledge.

Most of the time, the coaches catch when their student gymnast gets enough skills and strength or knowledge to move up, but sometimes it takes a “skills test” for a gymnast to show off or put a little more power into her actions!

This made me think about life.

Life is full of levels.

Sometimes we just move through them seamlessly. You know, like gliding from toddlerhood to preschool, or moving from 9th to 10th grade. High school to college is a little more of a push – this is like an evaluation. Are you ready? Well, time is here – which choice do you make?

In our personal growth, we tend to move slowly. It’s when a climatic event causes us to evaluate ourselves that we discover strengths we didn’t know we had or weaknesses we thought we didn’t have. Your eldest child going to college and you are tossed into the whirlwind of various choices, plans, financial issues, helping your young adult navigate stress (praying you can do that well, because she is expressing what you are internalizing!), and believing that a way will be made.

This time you have to view as a positive change. You have to realize that this temporary negative appearance will prove to be the lifetime starting point for your young adult. Your attitude through this is your “evaluation,” your young adult will be taking notes on and remembering. (Everyone else in your household is also watching!)

Sometimes a life “evaluation” is others watching how you navigate troubled waters. Like the death of your father, your sister, your close friend, your child. Losing someone you treasure. That despair can allow you to create a pit to lose yourself in. Or you can look up and pull on the strength that only comes from Jesus. This evaluation is never something we want to face.

Evaluation week went along with my study: Examine yourself to see what is good and right; remove that which leads toward darkness.

(My paraphrase again, I summarized the page-long study to that line. Most of the verses linked all boiled down to that same line as my brain interpreted them.) I imagine darkness to be the depth of one’s soul without Jesus. Since Jesus is Light and darkness is the absence of light, that makes the most sense to me.

See, when trouble hits, I can either turn inside myself and go into darkness or look outside and reach up to Jesus. In Him there is strength to endure everything.

Life has taught me that.

My “evaluations” have proven it.

I pray I always choose to reach up. I want those watching me during “skills testing” to be led to Jesus. That is my goal.

Crazy writer’s brain that sees the little flyer on our desk that reads “skills testing weeks” and launches into deep thoughts… hopefully these wandering thoughts help lift you up!

Type at you later!

~Nancy Tart

Life is Risk

May 26, 2020

Life is Risk

Life is risky. How many people get out alive? (I’ve heard that from two sources this week, and it got me thinking…)

Our goal since the beginning of time has been to build this net of safety around our family to allow our offspring to grow in relative peace – to be fruitful and multiply.  How we each define peace greatly fluctuates based on our culture, time, and prosperity.

Think through culture and time.  Isn’t relative safety for her offspring the goal of every mother who ever lived?

Imagine Eve carrying her children outside of the garden.  Even though animals were still peaceful then, there were dangers that had arisen.  I wonder if she lamented over what was lost or considered her time peaceful.

Imagine being one of Noah’s daughters in law.  You grew up in a time when every step you took was surrounded by evil and except for the tiny oasis of your husband’s family unit you felt scared to go anywhere.  You couldn’t go home.  Now you are post-flood and raising your children in a world where peace is your constant – except for the new storms.  How thankful you are to be in such peace!

Imagine you are a Jewish mother raising her children under Roman occupation.  The slightest whim of a passing legion, an unruly governor, insane emperor, or a bandit troupe can take your harsh living conditions and twist them into certain death.  How do you dare to plan for the future when you know only scattered moments of peace?  When the odds are that maybe 20% of the village’s children will live to maturity?  One in five of your children will die before adulthood – how can we in this culture fathom this?

Imagine you are an orphan whose parents both perished in a famine and you were lucky to have been taken in by another family instead of doomed to die or languish into the horrid world of child slavery.  You are second class in your home with little hope of being more than a worker paid in room and board, but at least you are not starving. You fear famine and disease, ugly monsters who still stare in the windows of your village hungrily; where can you find peace?

Think of stories. Fiction, non-fiction, legends, lore. Don’t most of these follow someone who chooses to do something risky to help others, find an answer, discover a cure, or save someone or something they love? Risk-takers. Once I read, and many times have heard quoted, “in order to live, you have to take risks.” Honestly, what activity doesn’t come with risk?

Across times, across cultures, across this world, what we in the “first world” countries of the twenty-first century know as peace is something most people who have come before us would have thought at heaven.  Consider that in most places and times in the world, the thought that you will see all of your children become adults is rare.  We are in shock at this?  There are people even today who live in cultures where lack of medicines, inadequate nutrition, and the possibility of becoming collateral damage in a conflict are normal.

A hundred years ago, the simple concept of sanitation was so unknown to the majority that we can’t understand.  People dying of fevers and botulism without medical assistance? Do we even hear of food poisoning in our comfortable first-world culture?  Rarely.  Once upon a time importing unknown food products into new markets such as potatoes into England resulted in thousands of deaths because people ate the wrong parts of the plant!  We don’t hear of that often, do we?

When we consider breathing air too risky to take a walk for exercise, I consider my life not worth living.  I want to live.  I want to take risks.  I drive in a car to get to and from work – great risk is involved in that.  I want my children to enjoy the green growing outside.  I want them to run freely, love deeply, play with neighbors, and live.  I live by the same code I always have: I trust that God will decide my time and I will live my life to show my passion through everything I do.  I will not avoid stopping to help someone with their flat tire because she isn’t wearing a mask.  I will offer help.  I will not dampen my offers of help, comfort, food, or a listening ear because of some sickness – I would still talk about Jesus if it was illegal.  Why would I not show His love?  I choose not to be fearful.  I am so blessed to live in a place where the gunshot wound that killed Lincoln could now be healed, cojoined twins sharing a brain can be safely separated, babies born at 20 weeks can be nurtured to full strength; medical miracles have come from our increased knowledge in nutrition, anatomy, biology, and sanitation… and so much more. 

I will not be afraid.  I have always washed my hands, changed clothes when coming in from work, washed and changed after visiting someone who was sick, cleaned my food, and kept my home and family clean.  I understand that we have tools to keep us healthy.  The rest is up to God.  If I am to hide from this fear, why not from the fear of every other disease that circulates?  Why not hide in my home away from items I am allergic to?  Why not hide from the fear of getting in a fatal car accident? 

I refuse to allow fear to control my life!  For you have not been given the spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind. ~ 2 Timothy 1:7

I understand being cautious.  If you have a preexisting co-morbidity, you probably already keep yourself distant from possible infections that would aggravate your condition.  You do not go out in public without taking precautions.  The responsibility of your own health is on you, not everyone else around you.  No one understands your personal strengths and weaknesses better than you. You are weighing your risks.

But I am willing.  I am willing to take the risk of driving to work, the risk of walking into the farmer’s market, the risk of hugging my neighbor, the risk of helping a woman with a flat tire, the risk of adopting a new pet, the risk of living. 

This choice is one each person in each culture, stage, time, and place must make for themselves.  If you choose to live without fear, you must understand and accept the risks.  Just as you understand that a person may deny your offer of help, they may not wish to go out of their home, the may wish to keep everyone around them ten feet away.  That is each person’s choice. 

Learn. Read. Question.  We have more access to more knowledge than ever before. Research. Then make up your own mind and take the risks you are willing to take. 

Only a relative handful of people choose to research a mountain, outfit themselves, and climb to the summit; the risks are great – they could even die!  But when they reach the summit, the rush they get from their massive accomplishment usually makes them enthusiastic to begin planning a new mountain climb before they have even returned to base.

You must accept the risks of life to truly live.  I choose not to live in fear.

Thank you for Reading!

Type at you next time,

~Nancy Tart

Shattered

May 16, 2020

Shattered

Again. Shattered Again. This is what strikes my heart again. Of course, in the big scheme of things I realize, this is tiny. This isn’t losing a family member or going bankrupt. Logically, my brain tells me that this isn’t really a bad thing and there is likely a reason behind it, but still…

I can’t ignore the emotions that were tearing me apart when Louis said he got the email.

We never, NEVER, would have showed our children the new house (they’ve been calling it that) unless we were told it would happen.

We were told, based on incomes and expenses that it would happen. Our debt-to-income ratio (we know all that, studied before going to attempt for the loan. We had the credit scores above the requirement on the website, we’d done all our own figuring, we make three times what we would need for the maximum monthly payment!) We were told everything was good – we even asked over and over, is this really going to happen?

Well… of course, we lost income, BUT IT IS TEMPORARY!! Gym can open back MONDAY – two days from now! Are they only looking at one of my two incomes? Are they not looking at Louis’ income at all? I’m still working at the office! Louis is still working at uber.

WHERE IN THE EARTH did some loan person decide that she would NEVER once talk to me but CANCEL our documents because “they have zero income” when she didn’t even check? That’s a lie! That’s a stinking, irritating, hurtful, dream-shattering lie! We have lost income over the stupid COVID19 government shutdown garbage, who hasn’t? But to say that is permanent? It’s a bump in the road! A mortgage is 30 years!! Do you expect our income to never change in 30 years??????

We’ve not deferred ANYTHING… we’ve chosen to keep the down payment (yes, in the bank, safe and untouched!) and pay minimums on credit cards that we had to use for groceries, yes. Gym was forced to shutdown temporarily – between Monday and June 1st, I go back to work as soon as they open.

NOTHING has been late; not FPL, not our rent, not our van or car payment (we pay off the giant van payment in 4 months!)

Why is this hurting us? I thought this was responsibility? To keep the down payment, to choose to pay bills on time instead of ask for deferment, to pick up odd jobs to keep our income up while this stupid government decides to ruin our jobs and now – yes, shatter our dreams AGAIN!

Christina and Kimberly lost summer encampment, Christina, Becky, and Kimberly lost Passion Camp (this was the only summer they could all go together), the VBS they were looking forward to is canceled, they miss out on their gymnastics show, the girls are despising this whole zoom meeting garbage where they can’t talk and meet in person…

Becky said, “they can’t take our house, can they?”

It seems, one mortgage person can LIE and say we have no income while NEVER ONCE contacting or trying to contact me, Louis, or either of my bosses regarding our actual status of employment – and yes, deny us our house.

So while I understand that if someone takes the last 4 weeks of my paystubs and averages them over the course of a year, they will think we can’t make our payments; right now we are only missing about $200 a month (with the expected higher mortgage rate and this doesn’t count Louis’ income) – and we loose a $650 a month liability (paid off vehicle) in 4 months (so then just my income alone will cover our bills with more than $400 surplus!).

What really hurts is the LIES. I had to get this information from one lady we called because Louis got an email saying we no longer qualify and so have to pay a cancellation fee… ?????? Why can’t we at least get a courtesy call? No one ever asked? Not even a text. That’s seriously taking social distancing too extreme.

I hate that I took my children to see this place. I hate that I’m so gullible. I hate that I shared my dreams with others and now feel embarrassed that we even tried.

I am determined to at least speak to this person before I agree to pay for a lie.

I pray that God sets this up the way He wants it. I pray my emotions level (which, yes, after writing they always do) so I can speak calmly and rationally. I pray to see the good through this curtain of hurt. I so wanted to have those friends as neighbors, I really wanted to have Treaty Park as my backyard, but whatever; I should have known we will never make it to a real house.

Emotions are sometimes things we hide. I do. I try very hard not to let anyone see anything that isn’t positive. I try to be the mood lifter, not one who complains or cries or feels darkness. But I do. I feel darkness right now – like all my life I’ve dreamed of having a house where I could raise my children and grow trees that would shade my grandchildren – I know, silly. I saw a plan online that almost mirrored the house I’ve been building in my sketchbook all my life and even though we had to give up the place that was my first dream, I thought that if this all went through, it was a second shot at my dream. Next year would be too late: Christina wouldn’t be in that house. This faint hope rose to believe we’d have one season before Christina went to college. A place my teenagers wanted to be in.

These are raw emotions. We all have them. We all scream at the irrationality, lies, deception, cheating, or hurtful things that shove us or our loved ones into positions they don’t want to be in, shatter their dreams, or whatever.

We have to do what works to calm ourselves down and realize that God is in control; yes, even when someones lies and it shatters our dreams, it is just an opportunity for God to show us something better…

Anyway, I write to sort through my emotions; what do you do?

Thank you for reading.

Type at you later,

~Nancy Tart

He Walked With God

He Walked With God

February 25, 2020

In our church Sunday, the pastor spoke about how Enoch was one of his heroes because he was remembered as one who “Walked with God” by faith. I thought about that.

In my life, there are several people no longer here whose legacy includes: “they walked with God.”

Am I living my life so that part of my legacy will be: “She walked with God?”

What does walking with God look like right now?

My translation is that it means we communicate openly with God. We listen as well as speak when we pray. We remember to ask God’s direction in everything in life – jobs, moves, vehicles, routes for the day, etc. We have a type of open communication where we speak to God as if He were a very close friend. Don’t you have friends whose advice you seek out when making decisions? God should be primary in such things.

One of the ladies I was privileged to know once told me that she “breathed in God every morning to start her day off right.” She woke at 5am every day and had her coffee outside on her little porch or in her garden. She talked about God like He was a very close friend. All of her stories included “so after praying,” “after discussing it with God,” “well, I asked God but it wasn’t what I wanted to hear,” etc. She lived life full and open. She was far from perfect, but she wanted to be as godly a woman as she could be.

She ran her race and finished strong.

Examine your heart and see: are you in a close friendship with Jesus? Would you say that you ask His advice first? How do you interpret “walking with God?” Are there mentors or friends in your life, here or in heaven, who you would say “walked with God?”

Thousands of years after he died, Methuselah is remembered for having the longest recorded life, but Enoch, who lived about 1/3 of the standard lifespan at his time, is remembered for “Walking With God.”

What will you be remembered for?

Thank you for reading,

Type at you next time!

~Nancy Tart

Choosing to Rest

Ever feel overwhelemed by the busyness of life… especially around Christmas?

December 14, 2019

Choosing to Rest

The busyness of life can overwhelm us if we allow it.

Especially when your heart is troubled.

Anybody relate? 

This is the first Christmas season where all the kids have been shopping and I haven’t gone with any of them.  My Daddy passed away one year ago the tenth.  My little tradition of carefully penning the newest addition’s name in glitter glue on a silly felt stocking and adding it to our collection to hang was done by one the of girls this year.  I almost found myself feeling unimportant and stressing out because I wanted to be there…

I’m standing on the floor beam and use my standard line when my gym girls are racing.  On beam that means they end up wobbling and the exercise doesn’t look pretty when you are bouncing and wobbling. “…don’t race.  If you feel wobbly…” I demonstrate so they will laugh and pay attention, doing one passé step and wobbling as I come down “…pause…” I stop with both feet firmly planted “…take a breath to steady you…” I take a deep breath “…and now go on.” I start doing the steps again without the wobble.

This works great for my excited littles at gym.  Sometimes they race because they want to do more and more and more, but really they just need to focus on the task at hand.  They need to control the landing of their foot on the beam so the direction is perfect and they land with confidence.

—BAM—

Life.

It’s the same as walking the beam. 

Don’t race.  That one hit me; don’t we all race when we feel wobbly (overwhelmed)?

Pause.  REST IN JESUS! 

Both feet firmly planted. In the Word – while I’m pausing, I’m resetting by “planting my feet firmly” in the Word.

Take a deep breath.  Worship and pray.

Then you can go on without the wobble. (Worry, feeling of drowning, feeling of uselessness, etc)

Now we take our life and everything whirling around us one step at a time, focusing on each day as it exists, allowing God to control our steps, and we will walk with confidence!

Oversimplified?  Maybe, but that mental picture that God gave me as I was coaching certainly is helping me rest and enjoy this season instead of feel “wobbly” with worry and feeling useless! 

Thank you, Jesus for planting cool visions in my head from sometimes the simplest of things… God uses the simple to confound the wise!

Type at you next time,

~Nancy Tart

Fatherhood

June 17, 2019

Fatherhood

So, you know this huge thing called “Fatherhood?”

What comes to mind?  A parenting book I read when I was twelve (yes, oldest sibling perks!) said something like “the child’s view of God as a Father is directly impacted by their experience with their Earthly Father.”

Yes. So true.

I went into parenthood knowing this. (Songs like “He Wants to be Like Me” reaffirmed this giant responsibility.)

A Father is often the humor of the family too – in the photo, Louis had climbed to the top of the stump and challenged “Come Get Me!” … notice all the kids following!

Despite the failures that I’ve made as a Mom and that I felt repercussions of from my parents (they were AWESOME parents, but they weren’t perfect) – I understand the crux of all parenting: we are human.  We (Parents) are not Jesus and are not perfect.

Bingo.

That awesome thing called grace collaborates with the huge responsibility of parenting to create a vulnerable, praying, God-dependant parent capable of teaching the amazing love and grace of Jesus through their own transparency.

Let’s face it: most of the American culture makes fun of fathers.  (Ever seen the Goofy Salute to Fatherhood?) Even as early as the 1950s when there was still a bit of a patriarchal society present, cartoons and movies started to depict fathers as lazy, goofy, clueless bunglers who often caused more problems than they solved.

Although I laughed along with my Daddy at a lot of these early shots at the masculine father, I understood the bulk of media still left you understanding that the love and bond of a father to child was the glue of a family.  The unsung hero always was the silent sure strength of the God-following Father.

As time inched forward, the media continued to turn the American Father into a non-essential entity.

The opposite is true!

I consider myself a strong, independent woman when it comes to my life.  I am a Christian woman, but one of my strongest battles with myself is submission – first to my father, then to Jesus, and later to my husband.  I know this though…  I CANNOT be the mother I am without the encouragement and support from my husband.

If I had to do motherhood without my husband being my ultimate cheerleader and sounding board, I would have realized how unfit I am about three months into the first child.  I have the ultimate respect for people whose life circumstances have forced them to navigate parenthood alone.  I try to be an encourager to them and help those single parents in any way I can because I cannot imagine myself having that strength.

I am excited to be around my husband!  I was on a softball team (church, yes, I’m an athletic maniac but wasn’t on an actual team until I was in my late 20s and it was just for one season with my church family).  Louis was working sometimes 100+ hours a week for our family at the time.  The company I had just closed.  He’d never made it to any of our games (I took all the kids with me; they loved it and hung out with their friends & some of the church ladies who came to encourage us bounced my baby around).  One day he showed up and I was so excited!  (I was told I squealed like a little girl; don’t remember exactly.)  I love walking with him.  I am excited when we do something as a family – or when he’s going somewhere and says, “hey want to go with me?”  Because I know he likes his alone time.  I get way too much alone time at my office – I relish gym coaching because of the other encouraging women I work for and with and the chattering children I love.  I will chatter way too much sometimes.

Our church sermon was on how Fathers aren’t perfect (only Jesus is) and how their honesty and relationship is their connection with their children.  It’s the way to disciple.  We aren’t perfect, our children aren’t perfect – bingo!  Common ground.

I know how important real, honest, God-fearing Fathers are to the fabric of our family.  I know how hard it is to buck the media’s garbage portrayal of our roles and follow God’s plan instead.  I am so thankful that I have a husband who is pursuing God’s heart.  His passion for Jesus makes him a better husband, a better father, and a better friend.  He helps encourage me to pursue God’s heart.  (Told you I’m competitive.)  He isn’t perfect, but he is constantly improving.  A challenge arises and he rises above it.  He’s always leading in love and with a determined drive that is totally contagious.  His passion for Jesus, life, and family (okay, and sports) is encouraging.

And he doesn’t think he’s “so much” – he compliments and lifts me up consistently.  He makes me feel like I’m doing well despite whatever challenge I feel I’m failing.

At church, we pulled in on Father’s Day (neither of our fathers went to church as adults) and he comments, “wow, church is crowded on Father’s Day.”  Yes, at our church, the culture of encouraging each person to follow God individually, corporately, and in their family is persistent.  (I was afraid we lost that when our previous church folded.)  I am so encouraged that Louis has found a church with a culture of lifting up men as fathers; the vital leaders in their homes, encouraging and holding each other accountable.

Thank you, Jesus, for fathers who choose to take the hard road and follow you; they are raising up the next generation of world-changers.

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next later…

~Nancy Tart

Wimpy Atlas

Ever feel like everything in the world is raining down on your shoulders and you can’t keep anything up? That was today…

December 20, 2018

Wimpy Atlas

Am I the only one who feels like Atlas with wimpy shoulders sometimes?

Yesterday was a good example:

I got up at 5:30am to work, the guy cancels as I’m just on the road.  Bummer.

Get back home, waste of a half-hour prep and 20 minutes gas and time, but I try to stay positive.  My breathing flared up; can’t lay down to go back to sleep.  Grrrrr… hot tea and honey while I work on my character cards for the 6th in The Devonians – 26 characters in this one because it is set during a community planting season.

I write a program for translating ages – this will make future work easier.   I had my tea.  I hoped I would avoid having to take the allergy pill (discovered a natural antihistamine as I’m allergic to both Benadryl and the emergency inhaler I was supposed to be taking 4 times a day, but I still prefer not to take anything).   I pick up the second ride.  I’ve now made $20.

I chose not to dwell on sad things pinging around the back of my brain.

But when I got home about 11, I was starved.  I made my Shakeology because Louis wasn’t hungry (the kids had already eaten, and I wasn’t going to make a whole breakfast just for me).  Louis took the next call so I could finish eating.  I gathered all my stuff into neat little piles so I could use my tools to guide my story.  Christina needed help on an Algebra problem so I set my Shakeology cup down.

But… (that word NOT in the positive this time!)

As I finished with Christina’s problem *BAM* I turned and knocked the full Shakeology cup over ($3.50 meal – I hate waste)!   *SPLASH* the broken blinds, the window, the lamp, the wall, EVERY ONE of my 26 cards, my hand-written “cheat sheet” I’d created almost a year ago for the Devonians families, and the floor are covered in goo.  Imagine slightly soupy pudding – that’s the consistency of Shakeology + coffee.

Immediately, as quickly as the drops of fluid, everything negative that I was trying to hold back rained down on my brain.

The evening before, Mom got Daddy’s ashes… all that’s left of his body is in two boxes on her table.

Didn’t get to stop by Mom’s on the way home (*thoughts* you are a horrible daughter.)

Didn’t get to snuggle on the couch with Lucas because I was cleaning while he fell asleep (horrible mom.)

Didn’t get to fix my pie or anything to take to the party (horrible guest.)

I had to drive in the morning but only had two calls & the would-be big one canceled (horrible provider.)

Lucas wanted me to play trains… I was busy teaching (again, you never play with him!)

…and on and on and on… my brain just rained down things I wished I could have done differently, things I wanted to do but hadn’t, and things I should have done.

I felt like the world was falling on my shoulders and squishing me flat.

Now I was hungry, it was noon, and the very next call was “make some rice for lunch” because we had one pound of beef in the freezer and “stir-fry would be good.”  All I wanted was to type my frustrations out and make another Shakeology to actually eat.  I wanted to get to my vitamin shake before I went to work at 2. (I was leaving early to stop by my mom’s today!)

I read somewhere that a mother is the Chief Mood Officer in her home.  When I start getting lost in emotion, I remind myself of that.  I turned on Christmas music, started cleaning so I could start rice, and prayed I’d be able to pull my own mood up (and keep the house from growing dark).  My siblings’ party is tomorrow.  I can choose to shift my focus on the positive.  Hopefully it works!

*By the way* I didn’t get my shake until I was on the way to work, my mom wasn’t home when I got to her house, and on… BUT I was working playroom so had brought my Devonians folder and was able to use the 40 “lost” minutes to recreate some of the destroyed cards.  I forced myself to focus on the positive again… this week has been a constant challenge for me.  God.  God is totally in control. (I just need to lean on Him – His shoulders are not weak.)

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

What to Say?

October 20, 2017

What to Say?

It doesn’t matter how you get the message.  A man in uniform, a hospital doctor, a call from their job, a letter from a mission council: it doesn’t matter the messenger, when you hear “we regret to inform you…” with the universal calm sadness people use, you don’t hear anything else.  It doesn’t matter if the name they give is your husband, wife, father, mother, brother, sister, or child.  Your world just imploded.

You are devastated; and that word falls flat when trying to convey the emotion coursing through your veins like blood.   You stare blankly, scream, yell, cry, hit, punch, or politely slam the door in their face and curl up into a tiny ball just behind it to bawl the remainder of your heart out.  Every dream you had with them has just died.  The messenger knows this and stays silent even if you lash out at them.  They usually leave you to your grief.  No more words are needed.

Your heart compresses into a lump of coal; furious at the job, war, accident, drunk driver, sickness, or whatever that stole your loved one from you.  Your heart constricts as your emotion rises into a whirling series of blades and swirls from inside your heart to rip apart everything inside you.  Anger is a part of grief.

This just happened to someone you know.  What to say?

There is nothing you can say.  Not even the most eloquent speech from the best orator on the planet will breathe life back into the lost loved one.  No one can say “I’m so sorry for you” with just the right tone to shoot back time and change the events that have happened.

We’ve all been there (most of us have been in this insane horrid sorrow of loss ourselves).  We’ve also been the friend of someone who is still reeling from the shock of extreme loss – and if we are wise, the best we can do is say nothing.  If our eyes meet the survivor we offer a smile of encouragement, a hug, or simply cry with them; just so they know we are here.

We’ve all heard someone at a funeral say what they intend as an encouragement but it actually stabs the survivor in the lungs, sucking out their air and life, tearing into their mind.  Inwardly, the animal of attack is shredding that person – but the survivor usually realizes they meant well, it just didn’t come out that way.  (“It was just her time,” “you could always have another,” “he lived a full life,” “at least she’s not hurting anymore,” or any other cliché soundbite.)

In our current techno world, grief doesn’t have a chance!  Someone loses a precious loved one and instantly society wants heart-stopping news stories, social media posts with pics and vids on all outlets, and 24/7 access into the private life of the grieving family.  Politicians want to be on stage with them.

NO!  Just let them grieve!

Pray for them if you hear of their loss.

Deliver them a meal, send them a card or flowers, or be there at the funeral to show your support and empathy if you know them.

If you are family – protect them from this ruthless media assault.

Why must society know everything about everyone in such a callous way, so distant, so superficial?  If a person really cared, they’d do something meaningful to help the family – and not go on TV to highlight their perfect generosity, excessive understanding, and absolute empathy.  Their grief shouldn’t be our profit.

Please, let them mourn for the loved one they lost and the dreams, hopes, and life they had – and no, it will never “return to normal” (something will always remind us; a uniform, policecar, firetruck, work truck, cane, wheelchair, the ocean, the hospital, the outfit they last bought us, the ring on our finger, our children, our grandchildren – these will flood us with memories and emotion at times) but yes, life does continue.  Hope allows life to continue and restores happiness, but first they must grieve.

 

In memory of all those we’ve lost…

~Nancy Tart

 

Follow me!

Get my latest posts delivered to your email: