Seismic Grief

Do you ever have heavy days? I do. Not your period or weighing yourself on the scales! I’m talking the weight on your shoulders, the fog in your brain and the sad in your heart. I had one of those yesterday. No reason for it, nothing bad happened. I just felt heavy.

I heard a song that began a ripple, like seismic activity beginning deep inside, that created a wave, that brought me to where I sit right now. One small tear escaped and made me think about my first husband. He was a good man, and I had the privilege of having his love. I know he loved me. Not everyone can say that, I know I was, and still am, one of the lucky ones. We all miss him, we miss him very, very much. 

It’s grief. 

Grief can sweep you off your feet in a moment, or slowly gain momentum until it reaches a point that it has become unstoppable. It can take you where you don’t want to go. I don’t want to be in this funk, it’s not where I want to be. But it’s the price I paid when I first let him into my heart. 

I remember panicking when he would go surfing and not come home for hours. The reality was he just didn’t have a watch and was having fun. He didn’t know dinner had been ready, he just knew when the sun went down. But I sat at home imagining his funeral, how dumb was that! I was so fearful of losing him. I had to consciously tell myself it was unlikely, unreasonable and talk myself back into normal all the while praying for peace to calm my scared heart. There were nearly 20 years in between that fear and actually losing him. I’m so glad I didn’t waste all those years fearing I would lose him. I know I did lose him, but I had 20 years. 20 years, 3 kids, a home and a life together. I am grateful for that, at the same time I’m sad about that. 

That’s grief.

Although our lives together ended, I still have a life to live. To love, to give and be with those that are still here. I still have a purpose. It didn’t end when his days did. I breathe in, I breathe out. I cry at work and the new guy is freaked out! But I know I’m OK, it’s just releasing the pressure and allowing my heart to once again let love back in. 

I will continue to tell myself  “Don’t panic, don’t be unreasonable, or unrealistic” . Even though I know the realities, I still don’t want to waste my days. I will continue to pray for that peace. It’s supernatural, it’s real and it’s good. Faith hope and love are really good. 

Good grief. I can feel again.

The Truth About Memory Lane

Recently I traveled interstate to see family in my hometown. During the long drive my mind drifted down memory lane; school, friends, family, the good and bad and some very ugly. My husband and I mused this week how our brain seems to gravitate to that ugly. So many beautiful things may happen, but we can get stuck in the ugly. For a moment I was stuck.

I felt my stomach turn, my pulse rate quicken, I was on full alert. Fight or flight kicked in and I wasn’t sure why. I began to cross examine my thoughts, I had been thinking of a town close by, teenage years, what people would be good to see and the people I didn’t want to see… and there it was. My mind flooded with ugly. How ugly he made me feel, the lines he crossed and what he had no right in taking. I really did not want to see him. 

That guy nearly destroyed me. I remember the whispers “I could kill you right now”, “The only way no one else can be with you is if I kill you”, and his favourite “I will kill myself if you leave me”. In the end I didn’t care, I was dying on the inside and had lost all hope of a knight in shining armour riding in to save me. 

I began the unhelpful self talk “You should be over this”, “It was so long ago, just forget about it”, and my achilles heel “Practise what you preach, you big fraud”. After listening to this fabulous self dialogue I knew I had to deliberately redirect my thoughts. But I was stuck. It was like being in quicksand, a heaviness compressing my chest, flight and not fight was looking better and better all the time. The only combatant I could think of using was the truth.

Truth. He was not one of the good guys, he was hurt but his response was not to be brave, he chose to hurt. He manipulated, he stalked, he smothered, he threatened, and he forced. More truth. He made me feel ugly, but I am not. He took control of my world, but he does not have that permission anymore. He made me feel frightened, but I chose a Protector. He made me feel dirty but I have a faith that washes me clean, over and over and over again until I believe it. 

Driving along I began to meet truth with more truth. I defended each allegation with everything I have learnt and experienced since then. My mum helped rid him from my life, but the damage had been done, I was left in a dark place, no light at the end of the tunnel. I remember thinking it wasn’t worth going on. A few months later I chose to give my control away again, but this time I chose well. I chose to give my heart to God, to One greater and more loving than I felt I deserved. I gave my heart to the Healer, the Peacemaker, to the only Father I had ever known. 

I am the sum of my experiences, they have shaped my responses to life, I cannot change that. As with grief, sometimes my soul attempts to drag me back down into the quicksand, I feel the very real emotions. I am thankful that God does not belittle me in that time as I tend to do to myself. Instead, as all gentlemen do, He offers His hand and waits for me to accept it. To reach back out of stuck and allow Him to lift me back into reality. A much safer, worthwhile and loving reality. 

I didn’t run into the guy, I didn’t have an empowering moment to put him in his place, life is not a movie plot. But I am not stuck anymore. I am free, I am me and I can breathe freely. 

Why do I share this? That’s an easy one, so it has a purpose, so some good can come of it. Do you ever feel stuck in quicksand? Do you ever feel your heart quicken and the need to run? If you do consider this, there is a Hand reaching for you, to help you, guide you and love you. If you take that hand He will not disappoint, that has been my truth. 

The Truth.


Keep Going

What do I do when I can do no more? I keep going. I breathe in and out and in and out until it takes. Until the ember of hope sparks so I feel love again. I feel God again. In the most unlikely way, most likely. When disappointment grasps what life is left, when it strangles and suffocates…it’s not the end. 

It’s another opportunity to prove beyond all doubt that love conquers all. Not mine, I’m flawed, not yours, you falter, but Love bigger than us all. 

Supernatural. Unmeasurable. Unsearchable. 

When my heart feels so heavy, so full of trouble, so full of what I can’t control, I bend. I double under the weight. How can they? Why did they? So much I can’t control, so much I can’t be. My heart it breaks, and I’m broken. 

Is that OK? Is that the end. No it can’t be. 

This isn’t trite, this isn’t small, this for me is the answer to it all. Breathe in and out and in and out until it takes. Until the ember of hope sparks so I feel love again. I feel God again.

Another day, another way shows me I’m not alone. What life takes, it does not give back. No potions or luck. But if I open my eyes I see it, I feel it, I know it all around. One truth, one love, that shows me again. I can love.

When I don’t know what to do, or it doesn’t make sense. I can love. When it seems too hard, too much. I can love. I borrow from a well, again and again, so deep deep deep. 

The smallest shift, just a little incline. A leaning in so I see it, feel it, know it again. Just keep going, one day at a time. 

Breathe in and out and in and out until it takes. Until the ember of hope sparks so I feel love again. I feel God again.

Keep going.

Where There’s Smoke…


A smouldering fire lingers just beyond our house. By day it burns slowly eating  through tree roots, by night we are veiled by it’s smoke, embers glowing, threatening to ignite. I just want it to end, for it to be over.

“Dense smoke resulting from slow or suppressed combustion.”* Smouldering fire, no warning, nor does it seek permission. It just lingers underground seeking my attention,  my energy, and my peace. 

Where there’s smoke there’s fire. Right? That’s what we have all been told, we see the warning signs and know there’s a problem. 

As I read about smouldering fires, my internet search suggested “Smouldering Myeloma” the disease I despise. My late husbands disease: it threatened, it lingered, it sought no permission. We saw the smoke, and it was too late. The fire had spread and spread and spread. 

This is not where I saw this blog going. This was going to be my thoughts about our recent bushfires. A follow on story to the last. I guess one tragedy stirs up another, a different follow on story. 

I felt dizzy and nauseous, caught completely off guard, that’s what grief can feel like, that’s “suppressed combustion”. It can’t be controlled or predicted. Smoke rising through the cracks, kindled by memories, moments and a million different everyday things. 

I let my guard down this afternoon, I breathed a sigh of relief, surely the worst was over. Within minutes siren shrills sounded and the neighbourhood sprung into action. The smoulder reared its ugly head. Grief can be like that, guard down, unsuspecting, then an ember is fanned into flames. The fire didn’t last long but it reminded me that it’s not over. You just never know. Grief can be like that too, it isn’t ever over. 

I can’t see it now but green shoots will spring from the ash and charcoal, it will take a while. As with grief, it doesn’t always threaten to destroy. If it’s dry enough, if it’s given enough fuel, it can go up. But after a good while not all the memories produce smoke, they become a salve, soothing, because I know I once held someone close that was special, beautiful, loving. It was real and alive. 

Grief reminds me that I have loved and been loved. It’s lasting and true beyond the years he walked beside me. Love that begets love. Because I knew that love I can know new love, I know what it should feel like. I feel it still and with another I feel it anew. It’s more than I could ever have hoped for. 

Smouldering fires will end, but love, it goes on forever.


i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done

by only me is your doing,my darling)

i fear

no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you


Here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

EE Cummings

Just in Case

“What if the house burns to the ground?”  “What would we do?” “I couldn’t bare to lose everything.” 

These were my thoughts as I drove into work this morning knowing there was a fire nearby. By mid morning an emergency warning had us rush home. We needed to tend the animals and pack the cars “just in case”.

What do you take? What would you take? I scrambled around the house like a woman possessed parroting “That can be replaced, that can’t…over and over. I threw things into the car from laptops, phones, passports, photos and the most random selection of clothes you have ever seen. I grabbed undies, runners and a dress or two!! I looked in the fridge, why? I don’t know!

When push came to shove my thoughts went to losing my late husbands and my partners late wife’s things. I know they are the only things, but they are what we have left of them. You can’t take away the bits I have left. Tears surfaced a couple of times, not because I cared about the house, but the fire sparked some of the grief manicness I thought I had long left behind. The same manic gestures I had turned to at the height of grief. It caught me by surprise. 

The smoke thickened and I could see flames across the lake, that was enough for me. We could have stayed but I am the only parent my kids have left and “just in case” had arrived in my heart. I had to leave. I drove away with the cat screeching and clawing at his cage and stress rising in my heart. 

I had to let it go, let it all go, just in case. 

Paul and Julie were people, not things, they live in our hearts and our memories and will do forever. But I was sad at the prospect and needed to sit and write to let me sadness come to the surface so I could move on. So I could open my heart again. So I didn’t get stuck. 

We are sitting at friends now away from the smoke, and the firefighters have taken care of our house and everything is safe. It could have been different. It has tested my need for those belongings. I don’t need them like I thought I did, but for now I will hang onto them, just in case. In case I need their comfort.

Just in case. 


Looking back at the fire as we left the house today.


No truer love

Do you ever feel like you aren’t who you are supposed to be? Who you have been told you should be?

As a Christian widow I felt I was supposed to be emulating the bible character of Ruth: loving, faithful, loyal and courageous. But I was more like Gomer, do you even remember her? She was unfaithful, no self worth, couldn’t see beautiful, or the unconditional love offered her. Hosea, a prophet obedient to God, chose Gomer to be his wife. She was from the wrong side of the tracks and turned her back on his love over and over again.

I felt similar in the early days of my grief.  I didn’t care if God loved me. I couldn’t see it, and I couldn’t believe it. I was lost in grief and my world was pain and sorrow. Abandoned by my husband, where was this Good God? Frankly I didn’t care. He had killed my husband.

Over the years I had heard all kinds of conflicting messages from the pulpit. Like if you don’t pray hard enough God won’t look after you. Or if you don’t have enough faith you won’t be healed. That God helps those who help themselves and cleanliness is next to Godliness. What a load of hogwash!

Yes hogwash … I had broken all those rules, yet after a good while, I began to see it differently.

His promise was true even when I was not. His provision was full when I was empty. Unyielding, unfeeling, unworthy… yet taken care of. A Husband doting on his wife that cared not. No matter how sad or mad I was at Him, the greater the care and provision I felt. He was Hosea, I was Gomer.

I discovered an incredible truth…God’s unconditional love had absolutely nothing to do with my actions. It was and is ever present and true regardless of my actions. I have the choice to see it or not see it. He does not. He just does. My faith has become that simple, that uncomplicated.

I might not be a giant in faith or have an uncomplicated track record, but I know what I know. I know Who I belong too, I know Truth that untangles my mess and I know Love that just doesn’t let go.

No matter what Gomer did to Hosea he kept loving her and bringing her home. Nothing she did was too bad as to sever his commitment to her. I might be Gomer, but my love story of many chapters also tends upward. No doubt I have many lessons yet to learn, trials to face. But I have a deep assurance that in every season I am not alone. My rearguard is sure and solid.

He is Hosea, I am Gomer.

P.S. I love you x

Dear Me,

Today your world changed. Today you lost your love, your future and your hope. I know exactly how you feel, I am you, just a few years down the track.

You are wondering if the pain will kill you … it won’t. It is the greatest ache you have ever felt, but it doesn’t actually kill you. Instead it hangs heavy inside your heart, reminding you minute-by-minute that part of you is missing. “Till death do us part” swirls around your mind’s eye… but you didn’t actually think it would happen. Not yet, not to you.

I know you are about to enter a bipolar-like state vacillating between deep pangs of grief and hyper activity to try and prove to your kids that it will be OK. It will all be futile. You will get very, very weak, you won’t like yourself for it. Here’s where I can help.

It really is going to be OK.

Not today, and probably not tomorrow either. But one day not too far away you will feel the sun on your skin, it will remind you of what happiness once felt like. Hold onto that, remember it, you are not going insane, you are just sad.

When you let the endless questioning give way you will find peace again. It’s hiding behind the anger that you won’t let go of. It’s blocked behind the blame game that has no end. You can’t create the peace you need, but it’s freely given when in surrender you pray for it.

When you are convinced God failed you, when your thoughts get carried away and think He is cruel beyond belief, remember it isn’t true. Remember you just can’t see it and you may never know why. When the plan shifts so far away from what you expected remember, it will be ok. One greater than you holds the original draft, His heart is for you not against you. He was and He is and He always has been the One who loves you. He is answering the cries of your heart you cannot put into prayers. He knows.

Take comfort in the fact that he isn’t suffering anymore. That in Heaven he is free from pain, from cancer and will one day meet you again. You can’t fathom that just yet, but lock it away in your heart as a truth, trust me, I know you. It will help.

One last thought … it was not your fault. There was nothing you could do to save him. I know that’s hard for you, but you overthink things, it just wasn’t within your control. You need to let that go. Don’t punish yourself by denying yourself life, love and freedom. It will not bring him back. In fact, the life you live can bring him honour if you choose it. That’s how you keep him alive in your heart, that’s how you can go on.

It really is going to be OK. Believe me I know.

P.S. I love you x


“I am absolutely sure that not even death or life can separate us from God’s love. Not even angels or demons, the present or the future, or any powers can separate us. Not even the highest places or the lowest, or anything else in all creation can separate us. Nothing at all can ever separate us from God’s love. That’s because of what Christ Jesus our Lord has done.” Romans 8:38-39 (NIRV)

Little girl found ❤

I read a blog today that stirred my heart. It spoke of strength and bravery as paramount in a woman’s soul. I began to get that sinking feeling in my gut, one of those reminders that that has not always been my reality.

I wish I had been braver.  More able to stand up for myself, to protect my body, to have had a voice. But I wasn’t and I didn’t. I paid the price though, that is mine to pay.

Why me?

How did God let it happen?

What did I do wrong?


Because I was a lost little girl whose Daddy ran away.

He didn’t, bad men chose their own cruel steps.


Grief has taught me many life lessons. One of the biggest is that dwelling on those big questions eats at your soul. Natural disasters strike us all. A devastating fire can rip through your soul so fast you might only escape with your life. Hopefully you get out with your most precious and valuable; good memories and evidence of happy times.

I don’t like to think about my abuse. It’s horrible. Pictures in my minds eye that can taunt and stifle. He was a big man, I was a small girl. He smelt of sweat and that horrible old man smell that gives me the creeps. He was wrong and I should have ran away when he ushered all the others outside. But I didn’t and he blackened my soul – natural disaster.

At times I thought for sure that I had barely escaped with my life. I tried not to think about it, letting years go by believing it was my fault, that I must have been inherently bad, a naughty little girl. But I was wrong.

Under the charred bark precious life was hiding. Waiting for rain to fall, for seasons to change and a tender hand to prune. Not an easy process, pruning is painful, cut after cut with the realisation of each memory. But cuts do heal, sometimes they needed stitching, sometimes surgery. I can see the scars, but they don’t hurt like they used to. Seasons later I began to see green leaves, soft and fuzzy on my charred stumps … and later stronger, more elegant branches. Love, hope and faith again and again and again.

Over and over and over, love hope faith love hope faith love hope faith. That’s how I survived.

I can look back now with a knowing that I was not a naughty little girl, he was a bad, bad man. Sure the scars will still be seen through the new growth, but they are part of me now. I can’t change that. I can only change how I see me and know that the little blonde, beautiful girl is me. I am one of the many strong, beautiful women in the forest of many.

Love Hope Faith

Grief bites

I was reminded of all the pain today.

The hospital.

The disease.

The unhappy ending.

I was gutted. I turned on your phone, it still worked, looked at your photos, your messages to your kids and your sisters. I was so glad to see your love for them, but that made me sad too. I haven’t cried over you for awhile, haven’t felt that hollowness that feels like a punch in the stomach…but I did today. It’s hard to shake, hard to face.

We miss you.

I am surrounded by a new life, a good life, but it’s different and even that reminds that it wasn’t always this way. The memories are good, but they also have the power to drag me under. Loss is loss. I lost something I cannot get back, it’s gone. New beginnings still happen and bring me happiness, but they are not replacements.

I know I’ll be OK, my mood will swing back around, but in this moment I feel stunted, heavy, and unable to think clearly. A fog has come done and just sits on my shoulders. I know it will lift, but this moment is just grief. Unaware of when it may strike and completely caught off guard.

They say (not sure who “they” are, but lots of people!!) that gratefulness can change your mood so let’s give it a go.

I am grateful we met, loved and had our kids… you loved them without end and stayed, that was new for me and helped me know I was lovable.

I am grateful you were my friend, it’s hard to lose your best friend, but great when you have one.

I am grateful that you had faith and I know where you are…I will see you one day, not yet, but one day.

Now I will go onto something else and quit the wallow. Not because I want to forget but because the living needs my attention, because life did go on.

I love you still, I’m sorry it was hard for you. I’m sorry you felt so much pain, I don’t know why. I saw it was hard for you and I’m sorry I was mad at you for leaving me. I felt abandoned and I wanted to blame you. I blamed God but He gave me glimmers of hope, so it must have been your fault!! Dumb I know. I couldn’t put it all together, still can’t really. I love you, see you in awhile xx

I carry your heart

Grief causes so much that is unexpected. Life as you know it had to change shape. At first happiness didn’t seem to fit and you wondered if it ever would. You experienced a pain in your very centre that you thought you could not survive. You thought it would surely kill you in your sleep, but it didn’t, and you were left … alone.

Retrospect is a great tool that I wish could be used with the addition of time travel. To be able to go back in time and reassure your aching self that it will be OK, there is a reason for the pain. A reason why your insides feel like they are on the outside. You are taking on a new shape.

I see it now, it took awhile, but it’s clear. It’s growing pains, your heart is being expanded rapidly. Stretched, pulled, tear upon tear trying to get the big ball of muscle to grow enough to fit all the moments in you had shared, you don’t want them to just be a memory, but they need to be, have to be, or else they are gone forever. Don’t let them be gone forever. Accepting they are gone, well, that’s the biggest tear of all.

A little aside – The English language is an odd thing, where two words can be spelt the same yet mean two different things. No way to differentiate them except to define them. Tear and tear. To rip apart or to cry. Different but the same. Accepting they are gone forever rips at your heart and crying is a given.

The transition into widowhood is harrowing, relentless punch after punch from one unexpected place after another. A hand unheld in the supermarket aisle, days events unshared, unfeeling and unknowing words that cut deep, tear, tear and tear. But as one little tear heals, and then another, something amazing takes place. Your heart is transformed. It becomes a massive, life sized USB continually uploading memories, sad and glad, integrating them into your everyday. So your smile isn’t just a smile, it is a carrier of beautiful moments that only the two of you shared. Your crying isn’t just sadness, it is the missing the part of your soul that is trying to morph into your very own being. So that now you carry them with you always, physically felt inside you. You carry them in your heart.

You carry their heart

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)

i fear no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)


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