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Who's to Blame?

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It’s March the 11th, 23 months since Jon’s passing. As the two year anniversary draws near, I have found myself tossed between a myriad of conflicting emotions. I have longed for the day when this grief would loosen its grip. I have wished I could fast forward to a time when the tears didn’t fall at the mere mention of his name. And at the same time, part of me would rather go back to those first days - a time when the sound of his voice still lingered in the air and the memory of his touch was as close as yesterday.   Immediately following April 11, 2017, every moment of life was counted by the number of hours and the number of days it had been since I last held my love.   Eventually, days turned to weeks, and then the weeks turn into months.   Finally, it became a year, then a year and a half, etc.   Up until the 2-year mark, it’s still acceptable to count time in terms of months, but after that, well…….   I’m just not sure I’m ready to count the years.   Counting th
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What's the Big Deal?

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You’re now the sole provider….so what’s the big deal? Ok - before I get started, allow me a couple of pre-qualifying statements:   1.   This is not a pity party.   This is not a “look at how hard we have it” thing.    2.   This is not a comparison.   I know plenty of guys who are single dads - and really good ones!   I know they have some of the same challenges and some different challenges and I am not minimizing those or dismissing them at all.   I just can’t really speak to them because…well, I’m a woman.    There you have it!   That being said, there’s a BIG and growing group of people in our midst whose needs are great and we don’t really know how to help them....women who are the sole providers in their homes.   We commonly call them “single moms,” which is sometimes accurate and sometimes not.   I don’t love this pairing of words though, because if I say “single mom” to you, it usually conjures up a universally analogous image.   You’re thinking a younger woman,
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O Come All Ye Disloyal, Destitute and Defeated

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The Christmas season is upon us!   This used to be my favorite time of year.   I loved decorating every inch of the house and throwing lights over everything that would stand still.   As Jon would drag the boxes out of the attic, I would crank up the Christmas tunes and our house instantly became the happiest place on earth.   I have slightly doctored visions of us laughing, kissing and gleefully enjoying the season.   In these visions nobody gets frustrated with kids who aren’t helping, or husbands who don’t understand how to hang a garland properly.   Nobody curses at the pre-lit tree for missing a section of lights or slams the door to the garage as they are putting the boxes up after asking someone else to help 6 times.   Nope, those things never happened.   Well, maybe they did, but it didn’t matter because there was love everywhere.   We didn’t have to exist in perfect conflict-free harmony 100% of the time because the undercurrent of love and the assurance of acceptance and com
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Angry

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Can I be honest?   I mean blatantly, painfully, horrifically honest?   I’m talking about ripping the curtain back to see that the great and powerful Oz is really just a small insignificant man type of honesty.   I. AM. ANGRY. What do you mean, Jenn?   Are you disappointed?   Are you frustrated?   Are you discouraged?   Yep - all of those things, but it goes way past that.   I am furious with anger.   There, I said it.   I have been all those other things before - disappointed, frustrated, discouraged, bitter.   I’ve even SAID that I was angry before, but I don’t think I ever knew what real anger was.   And you know what’s worse?   I’m not angry at SOMEONE.   I am really, truly horribly angry at God.   I know.   How dare I?   The audacity.   Who do I think I am?   Well, I warned you, the curtain is coming back today.   You expected me to be angry at Jon, didn’t you?   I mean truthfully, that seems the more appropriate response.   In the past 19 1/2 months, I may have had brief mome
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Suicide Does Not Win

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You’ve seen the movies.   You know, the one where someone is trapped in a sinking ship or submarine, the water is rising around them and they are frantically trying to find a way out.   There is a look of panic in their eyes as they thrash about hoping for a miracle.   Finding none, the stillness kicks in with the realization that very soon the water will replace the oxygen and the next breath they take will be their last.   What a terrifying, tragic death….being swallowed by the sea.   Surely when they set out on their journey, this scene was not in their mind.   This was not how the story was supposed to end. I imagine Jon’s last six weeks of life to be like those last minutes in the movie scene.   Trapped in a room called depression, frantically searching for a way out, terrified as the water around him was rising.   Doctors, medications, therapy and prayer, so much prayer,   all pounding on the door desperately trying to find a way in and pull him out.   But he was on the insi
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A 90 Day Invitation

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90: I am overcome lately by a sense of self-loathing.  My thoughts toward myself are pure disgust….for being so overweight, for letting myself go, for wasting time, for not excelling at anything, and for not “doing better” at this point.  I am overwhelmed by life and a feeling that circumstances will never improve.     As I watched a video of myself worshipping, all I could think of is how embarrassed I am about my appearance, how much I hate myself, how I have packed on so much weight I don’t even recognize myself anymore.  I could not even absorb the impact of the words or music because I was utterly consumed with these self-deprecating thoughts.   I have struggled with this my entire life, whether I weigh 200 pounds or 100 pounds, I’ve never been happy with myself, never thin enough, pretty enough or good enough.  I know, on some level you can relate.  Maybe not with weight, or appearance, but performance, talent, abilities, spirituality, self-discipline, success, etc.  W
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One of Those Days

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It’s one of those days.   I feel quiet, tired, sad and anxious.   I am so lonely, yet all I want is to be alone.   I miss my partner so much.   I miss having someone to help me figure things out, to reassure me that it’s going to be ok and to hold me close.   Days like today I find myself still screaming at God, “I don’t want to do this.   I can’t do this anymore.”   You’ve been there.   You’ve had one of those days.   The wave comes, turns you upside down while your will to survive is waning.   For a moment you consider just letting this breath be your last.   There are no easy answers.   It’s not just one thing.   It’s not that you haven’t prayed or read your Bible.   So what IS IT?   Why are some days ok and others flatten you like a steamroller?   Is it hard to imagine that I am so familiar with this feeling?   You hear me saying lots of hopeful things and writing words of faith.   And let me assure you, I do this because I need them, not because I feel them.   On days
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