The Fire

I awoke this morning just inundated with thoughts and images of Hurricane Harvey, the flooding, the homes ripped apart by wind, the mounds of twisted metal buildings filled with boats and vehicles, the scenes of furniture, bicycles, and toys all floating down rivers which were once roads.  All of these images which have been made so public, represent peoples lives, their stories....and it breaks my heart!  I have read countless posts from friends who have evacuated their homes, saving what they could, but knowing they will be coming back to extreme damage and repairs that will take months.  And as I sat here and prayed for them, I started to write this: I am thinking this morning of the thousands and thousands of people who have lost their homes, businesses, and even loved ones, to this horrible storm.  Today the hurricane has passed, but the flooding and devastation continues.  By all outward appearances, the sea has calmed; but it is the storm inside us that...

As usual, I begin writing with no idea where I'm headed.  This is a mirror to my life right now - "no idea where I'm headed."  Tomorrow will be 4 months and I realized that the date, the 11th, is so etched in my subconscious that my whole body begins to ache with horrible anticipation each month as it draws near.  Four months ago today I kissed him goodnight, hugged him close and said "I love you," not knowing it would be the last time I would get to do those simple sacred things.  With each 11th that passes, I fear he is getting farther and farther away from me.  And I know as the months begin to add up, there is more of an expectation that I should be getting along, doing better.  Ugh. People ask how I am doing and I always feel like such a liar when I say, "as good as can be expected" or "just taking it one day at a time."  The truth is I am not taking one day at a time and I'm certainly not doing as good as you would expect.  I ...

We bought two rocking chairs when we moved to our home in Nicaragua. The purchase was at the top of the list. We had looked at several before we settled on the perfect pair. It was a very important purchase because we knew how much time we would spend, the two of us, on the back porch, looking out at the ocean, reading, praying, studying, drinking coffee and talking together. The whole purpose for our move was to be able to spend more time TOGETHER, disconnected from the rat race, the fast pace and expectations of our lives, able to focus on more important things - each other and our calling. We were excited and looking forward to the adventure, to decompressing, being more free to appreciate life and each other. Now I sit in one rocking chair, the other empty. My, how life can change in an instant. All your plans, hopes and dreams....gone. This reality, this truth has made my life, my thoughts, my work - all of it, a complete mess. Not that one could ever accuse me of being "ne...

May 27th, the 46th day without my love by my side.  I don't have a plan as I sit here and begin to write, but I pray the words that flow out of this entry will be real, accurately depicting the journey and real, accurately depicting God's faithfulness to us.  We must dive into the depth of the heartbreak to experience the magnitude of God's comfort. So many things have transpired in the last 3 weeks.  McCartney and I returned to Nicaragua.  My sister joined us on the return to soften the impact of our arrival here and to be here to pick up the pieces when we fell apart.  We (and when I say we, it's now a reference to me and McCartney because she is the other half of my duo, and I am the other half of hers) have not fallen apart, but things have not been what we expected either. At the airport on the morning of our departure, we walked up to our gate, the same gate where Jon, McCartney and I had sat only a few weeks prior.  My eyes welled up with tears a...

This week has been brutal.  For starters, I picked up Jon's ashes from the funeral home.  It was much harder than I anticipated.  I walked in alone and walked out with a blue velvet encased box containing the love of my life.  How is it that just a little more than three weeks ago I laid my head on his chest, he held me tight, kissed me on my forehead and made me feel safe.  Now, I lay on my bed alone, clutching a box of ashes to my chest, sobbing with all that is within me and begging God for mercy. As though that was not enough, the following days included chores and unpleasant phone calls.  All tasks seem meaningless, but each conversation including,  "Please accept our condolences....and we'll need a copy of the death certificate," is another knife to the gut.  It is very difficult to walk through the day drenched in sadness and still have the energy for anything else. Sunday was Jon's birthday, a "first" that came way too soon. Someti...

I have been asked to share the letter I wrote which was read at Jon's memorial service.  I am so happy to share it because I want EVERYONE to know what a wonderful man he was.  It was written to be read allowed - not printed, so forgive any grammatical errors - I don't have the energy to search them out at the moment.  :)  Though my words fall short, I hope you this will give you some idea why the hole in our hearts will be impossible to fill.  Only by the grace of our loving God. Who was Jon Massey?     He was many things, to many people, but rest assured he was NOT his disease.   Depression did not define him.  The looming dark cloud that brought on his intense  sadness was NOT WHO JON was.   I don't have adequate words to honor him today.  My heart is so full of grief, but also  overflowing with thankfulness, so if you'll allow me, I just want to share a little bit of the  Jon Massey we all...

It has been 1 week and 1 day since my love, my best friend, departed this world.  I am alone.  The pain is a searing, hot, unrelenting fire that consumes my heart.  I have never felt anything like this before.  I am not sure what to do with myself.  The mornings come and the first thing I realize is that I am alone.  I. am. alone.  The daytime is filled with questions, devastating sorrow for what he went through, and debilitating self-loathing, wondering how I must have failed him.  The night comes and the reality of his absence threatens my very ability to breathe.  My chest caves in and the sobs and screams are the only thing that allow air to enter my lungs.  The silence follows the sobs, and the silence is deafening.  I don’t know what to do with myself, how to begin to live again.  I don’t reach for my phone to call him or text him.  I don’t accidentally call his name because there isn’t one second that goes by that ...