Monthly Archives: July 2014

Moving Forward

Moving Forward

Wow, I can hardly believe I am writing those words. But my world is different now. Never will my life be the same, but it will be OK.

“One Fit Widow” describes the process as moving forward as opposed to moving on, I like that. ( I am not forgetting the man I shared 22 years with or moving on from who we were together, that would be impossible. I am however, choosing to have a future that he is not a physical part of. For me, that isn’t easy.

For me it has been a hard slog of facing pain head on, staring its ugliness straight in the face and demanding it give me some life back.  To shift my Paul into a new, his own, room in my heart has been a very emotional journey. To accept his disease, his death, to feel abandoned by those same things, to feel I may have caused or contributed in some way to the cancer, maybe I could have done more, been more, tried harder, given my actual life for his…to accept these things was necessary. To face each one and come to some kind of conclusion in order to put things in place and be able to move on was crucial for me. Otherwise it’s like having a set of hurdles in my heart. Every time I came to one, it seemed insurmountable and stopped me in my tracks. Unable to move forward, path blocked, journey halted. So I had to dismantle the guilt and the grief. One misconception at a time, one solid guilt melting truth at a time. I had to clear the path of hurdles and begin to run again.

It’s not just about finding new love; I can’t control that, although I hope I am not alone forever. Its kids, work, church, social life, recreation; the way I do everything has had to change. I am a single parent who as to negotiate how to do these things now. No backups, just me.  I found that extremely scary at first, but I’m getting there and it’s OK.

To rediscover who I am on my own is important too. I have begun to see things solely through my own eyes again. Grateful for the person my Paul helped me to be, and for the love he gave me and his kids, but I have to make my own choices now, grow up and take all the responsibility. I really did like being married, that part is hard. Seasons can be hard.

Seasons, now that’s something. In the past week I have seen the same passage of scripture come at me from very unusual sources. School newsletters, emails, Facebook to name a few (because I forget the others!!) so I’m taking that as a sign and moving forward. I will accept that it’s OK for the seasons to change; it’s OK to move forward.

Never will my life be the same, but it will be OK.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 The Message

There’s an opportune time to do things, a right time for everything on the earth:

A right time for birth and another for death,
A right time to plant and another to reap,
A right time to kill and another to heal,
A right time to destroy and another to construct,
A right time to cry and another to laugh,
A right time to lament and another to cheer,
A right time to make love and another to abstain,
A right time to embrace and another to part,
A right time to search and another to count your losses,
A right time to hold on and another to let go,
A right time to rip out and another to mend,
A right time to shut up and another to speak up,
A right time to love and another to hate,
A right time to wage war and another to make peace.

Don’t Cry Over Spilt Firewood!!

chopping-block-ax-split-wood-19414737Of course it’s “spilt milk” but I am fine at the mum type kitchen things, it’s the firewood that can bring me undone. It’s all that Mr fix-it stuff that my Mr Fix-it used to do, sure sometimes nagging was involved, but he did it. So now, with no Mr Fix-it and doggone it no one to nag (kids don’t count they seem to be able to block you out), I can just look at it, and be cold, or take a deep breath and get the heck on with it.

Wielding an axe overhead with such precision and accuracy I chopped those suckers into firewood that could burn itself…anyone believe me??? Anyone? Well it’s chopped, no actual injuries to speak of, and pretty it isn’t. But it fits in the fire place and it will burn. Most importantly though I didn’t actually cry. Nearly, but no tears, not a one. Maybe a little “what the hell happened to my life that took my wood chopper away?” type thought, but I did it.

This is new territory for sure, not quite sure what to call it, but its progress.

I don’t make any wild assumptions that I won’t succumb to fits of inadequacy in the future, but today I am OK. Today is all I have.

Decisions need to be made, things need to be fixed and like it or not life goes on, partner or not! So for today I will man up and do what needs to be done. Femininity intact, I will just have to do it my way.

But I won’t cry over the firewood.

Life and Other Sadness

I lost a friend this week, a beautiful lady, mum, wife, sister, and woman.  So much sadness. She was young; she has 2 gorgeous girls and family that are aching for her.  I get it. I know the sadness, I know that ache, the yearning for it not to be true, the disbelief, loss is hard.

When I heard the news I felt my heart resist, turn off, I didn’t want to feel the sadness, not again. But I have learnt something this week, I don’t need to be afraid of sadness, it won’t kill me, I can live this life, it won’t be the same, but it will be OK.

It means risk to keep my heart open; an open heart can be crushed so easily, to close it off makes more sense. To hide behind excuses of “well I need to protect my heart after such grief” or “it’s just not in my personality” may hold some truth but will only cause my heart walls to harden. It will shut out any potential for pure life that I have, so I won’t do that.

Life dishes up sadness sometimes. It also offers joy and love. God offers me the ultimate choice between life and death. He encourages me to choose life. It occurs to me that so much extreme sadness drains said life and erodes away the ability to choose. So many lives are cut short because there doesn’t seem like a choice exists anymore, there seems like only one way out…such a tragic illness.

So today I choose life, sadness and all. I will not be afraid of sadness, I will embrace it as part of my journey, part of the fabric of who I am knowing that God holds me close, whether in joy or sadness. Yesterday, today and forever I can count on that.

Inside these walls.

my honey

Inside these walls I used to hear your voice

Inside these walls I used to see your face

Down the hall I knew it was your footsteps

Down the hall I knew you would come

Beside me I used to feel your warmth

Beside me I thought you’d always be

Now these are but memories

Kept tight within my heart

Inside new walls I hold you

Kept tight within my heart

Inside these walls I’ll keep you

Kept tight within my heart.




Waiting waiting, waiting. I am impatient and stubborn by nature, waiting is murder for me. But at least when I’m waiting in anticipation for a something, an end in sight, there is hope. In this new chapter as a widow, (I still find that word hard to swallow), I don’t know what to wait for. What’s supposed to happen now? I have never been one to go along aimlessly, and it seems absurd to do that now, especially now. Yet try as I might, I cannot conjure a purpose up on my own.

I’m ruined you see. Ruined to ever just live in order to buy a new TV or whatever computer gadget comes out next. When I was 16 I made a choice; a choice to no longer live another moment just for myself. But to live the life I had for a higher purpose, a life and heart surrendered. A plan that was not my own. I believed God created me and knew what was best for me.

But I have a confession.

My higher purpose was interrupted when my love died. Like the internet went down and the download had to start again. How annoying is that! My trust in God slipped and caused a break in the connection, it’s repairable, but it will cost me.  Not in money, but in the vulnerability of my heart. To let the walls of self-protection down and allow the same God that took my love away to lead me again is a bigger ask now than ever before.  To trust someone, anyone, with the control of my life after such a catastrophic disappointment seems like asking for heartache. But I’m believing it won’t be. I’m believing, deep breath now, that life can not only be happy again, but full and purposeful.

So I’m waiting.

Waiting for the connection to be strong enough once again to handle the gigabytes of life yet to come my way. New things, old things renewed, who knows. But I want them, I really do. So every day I will choose to open my heart to God, the Creator of the universe, and trust Him with all that I am, and all that I am yet to be.

Let’s see what happens. Let’s see what life after death looks like.



Is the cosmic boogie man really sitting out there waiting to pounce and make a liar of me? Or is it that the normal ebb and flow of life is exaggerated after a particularly wonderful day? Either way, trying to stay positive in the face of disaster is hard at the best of times. Yet after you have announced to the world that “My Cup Overflows”, it feels like a whole other beast!

The virus that produces enough snot and flem to stretch across the state or the car you need to sell blowing up, are both poking holes in a supposed happy persona. What the hell?? Well that is actually a very good question? Is it hell? What about heavens help? Huh? What about it?

Actually…I think it’s still the same.

The things that caused me to feel that indeed my cup really does runneth over, are still the same. A couple of life events, that we all face, do not equal an empty cup. (At this point you really need to have read my last blog entry!) Sure inconvenience, spending extra money and illness can get me down but they do not change the good things.

My kids still make me laugh, they are healthy (well you know, excusing winter lurgies), my heart is not the trodden down mess it was, life is getting back on track, I can live a great life again, I don’t need to be lonely forever, My God is still now and forever looking after me; I am His child and He is my Husband.

It does strike me that the God factor in life’s equation really is the only non-variable. My world can, and was, turned upside down, spat upon and kicked to the curb, but the non-variable anchors my everything. There really is hope and purpose in trusting Gods best for my life; it gives me foundation, strong and uncrackable. In contrast my heart itself proved weak and crackable! Crackable is to a word spellcheck!!!

So cosmic boogie man ruining my day or not, I can still smile, and still trust in the goodness of One that knows my day before I even wake. What a comfort. Good day or bad day, my cup, my heart, can still overflow with blessing.

My Cup Overflows

2 years and 7 months I have waited for this. To truly feel once again that my cup does indeed overflow. Full to overflowing, running over with honest to goodness love. It’s been a long time.

I used to muse to myself of the goodness, the love, and the absolute blessing I felt just being wife and mum to beautiful people. Ordinary people to the untrained eye, but with my well-honed mumma skills it was clear: they were beautiful indeed.

Then the tragedy.

Cancer stole my love.

My cup was empty.

My cup was broken.

Now to hear my children’s laughter, and have it warm my heart, to hear them talking to me, really talking to me and be able to engage, to once again find joy in simple things is beyond priceless. It’s pure gold.

My cup must be mending.

All the tears, all the determined searching for answers, all the willingness to face the pain head on, has done something. It has begun healing my cup, my heart. I cannot say that I have willed it from my own strength, because I had none, or discovered hidden reasons, because there are none. It was the God of all creation, who made the cup, who made my heart, He knew what it needed when it needed it and healing is the result.

I am sure that my grief is not completely over, because my life isn’t over, and for as long as I live I will hold love in my heart for my Paul. But I feel love and joy again, and I know that I know that’s a good sign. I can once again be full of love and blessing. Nothing grand so far, nothing the papers will write about, but I know it’s going to be OK. In my everydayness I can smile and have life overflow.

My cup overflows.

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