Laying Our Son to Rest

God, in His mercy, numbed my feelings and emotions for the first few weeks in the shock of my middle son's unexpected death. Outwardly, it looked as if I wasn't grieving. Inwardly, disbelief reverberated. Now that the funeral is over, my emotions are coming to the surface more. But, the time leading up to the funeral was so busy, we hardly had time to think or emote. 

We were blessed by countless people who came forward to love and support us in this trial. I kept wishing Trevor could see all the expressions of love and appreciation others felt for him and for us, through him. My friend, Heidi, told me she's convinced he does know. She wrote, "After my mom died, I had a vision/visitation of her sitting next to me and telling me that the pain she went through was gone and that ALL was known - she was SO happy! I believe ALL is now known to Trevor, including the love people have expressed during the last week and the love and support you and family gave during his life." This was such a comforting thought to share!

The day after Trevor's death, our oldest son, Bryce, flew from Dallas to be with us. What a comfort and blessing his presence brought! Somehow, it made the grief more bearable. Plus, he was invaluable to us. He set to work on a photo slideshow to put up on the funeral home's obituary page. He scoured my phone and my computer for images. He must have asked John, as well, because he used an impressive photo of Trevor's bodybuilding physique (some wondered if it was AI).

I'm sure Bryce emphasized photos from his earlier years, happy years before the drug associations and drug use. He was our exuberant little boy, and we have many fond memories of those carefree days. It was a big help and huge blessing to have Bryce handle that important piece. He was also helpful during the necessary meetings. When we met with the funeral director, Bryce took notes. He compiled and sent us a file of things to do (it all would have disappeared from my consciousness quickly). He accompanied us to select and purchase a gravesite (near his grandmother's headstone). He, again, took notes throughout our meeting with the pastor, as we arranged the funeral service songs and order.

God brought me to the wonderful songs that we used for his service. I came across "Approach, My Soul," by John Newton, in the Sing Hymnal I received for Mother's Day. We printed this inside the memory folder passed out to those in attendance. The words emphasize our desperate need of God's salvation and His gift of eternal life: "Bowed down beneath a load of sin, by Satan sorely pressed, by wars without and fears within, I come to Thee for rest... guilty sinners such as I might plead Thy gracious name!"

We used "It is Well," by Horatio Spafford, to signal the start of the service. This hymn was written in great grief after the unexpected deaths of his four daughters in a shipwreck. Crossing the exact site of their drowning, Spafford penned words to affirm his deep trust in God amid inexplicable loss. For the condensed slideshow, we selected Casting Crowns' song, "Scars in Heaven." The lyrics gutted me: "If I had only known the last time would be the last time." "What I'd give for one more day with you." "I know you're in a place where all your wounds have been erased, and knowing yours are healed is healing mine."

"He Will Hold Me Fast" was supposed to play after the family reflections, but it came after the eulogy. I love these lyrics, as well: "When the tempter would prevail, He will hold me fast. I could never keep my hold through life's fearful path, for my love is often cold. He must hold me fast... He'll not let my soul be lost, his promises shall last. Bought by Him at such great cost, He will hold me fast." What a beautiful arrangement by Kristyn and Keith Getty! What a solid proclamation of God's unending grace!

I doubt people really took in the lyrics to the departing song, "Christ is Mine Forevermore." This was another one found in The Sing Hymnal with poignant lyrics: "Mine are days that God has numbered. I was made to walk with Him; yet, I look for worldly treasure and forsake the King of Kings... Christ has paid for every failing, I am His forevermore... Mine are tears in times of sorrow, darkness not yet understood. Through the valley I must travel where I see no earthly good... I know my pain will not be wasted."

My sister-in-law, Miriam, was a great help for the family fellowship prior to the funeral. As I said, I'm not a gifted hostess. I don't easily whip up meals on command, even on a normal day, let alone a stressful one. After Miriam arrived and set out a spread of desserts and drinks, she agreed to look over my outfit choices. We ended up running back to Kohl's to exchange a top for a smaller size (I tend to seek very roomy clothes). I so appreciated her time and attention to these needs.

The time together in our home with family was beneficial and comforting. We talked about old times and memories of Trevor. Thankfully, Bryce and Elizabeth ran to get a large quantity of Chik-fil-A, so meal needs were met and I was able to set out the spread of veggies and snacks I had purchased for the gathering. On one end of our table, all the engineers talked engineering and the other end rehashed stories and spoke of my youngest brother's architectural projects. Many family members did not arrive until late the night before the funeral and my brother Mark's family drove up from Kentucky for the day. We had family come in from many other corners: Illinois, Michigan, Wisconsin, and Texas.

Blogger that I am, I wanted photos, but knew I'd be preoccupied and unable. My sister agreed to help. I'm sure it was uncomfortable trying to snap images in a room of grieving guests. She did an outstanding job, as evidenced by the photos accompanying this funeral recap post.

The hardest part was viewing his empty body. Trevor, of course, did not look like Trevor. He was not there. It was a vessel devoid of his spark and spirit. I could not have captured an image of his body. Dawn delicately snapped this shot:

We said our good-byes and let the grief wash over us. I told him, "I wanted more time!" Then, we allowed his girlfriend time to say her good-byes. 

Next, came a blur of greeting people who attended the visitation. A member of my BSF group came by briefly to bring flowers and give a hug. Four friends from the Women Forming Friendships in West Indy Facebook group came to offer comfort. Five of our friends drove all the way from Champaign-Urbana, IL. My college best friend, Anne, came all the way from Lombard, IL. I was sad that I only snagged a few moments with her as the press of people kept coming. Both Bryce's and Sean's friends came. Trevor had probably 7 or 8 friends from middle and high school years who came. A few of the girls in that group were kind enough to come express condolences. 

Trevor's 2nd grade teacher came up to tell me how sad she was because he had shown such great potential. Many individuals came from Pittsboro Baptist Church. Here are some images of family members who came:

I was blown away by Trevor's halfway house leader, Damien, who took an Uber all the way from Indianapolis to our little rural enclave. He had only known Trevor for less than two weeks (and knowing Trevor, he probably hadn't interacted much). We gave Damien a ride to the burial and learned that he, too, (like my husband) is from Champaign-Urbana.

Thanks to the funeral director's wife, you can view a video of the funeral here. After the condensed slideshow and a welcome, John's sister Martha read John's comments and shared some of her own memories of Trevor. I wasn't sure I'd make it through mine, but the humorous bits helped me stay composed.

The burial was a brief affair (good, since it was 95 degrees out) with prayer and committal. 

Then, Pittsboro Baptist Church provided a marvelous meal for family and friends. After the meal, my sister and brother-in-law treated many family members and Damien to ice cream at the local Dairy Bar. 

We got Damien into an Uber back to the halfway house and many descended back into our home for further fellowship. I relished time with Trevor's cousins. Now, the grief is truly descending and intensifying. 

Some may question my son's walk with God, because he used drugs. One even shared a prayer, "What joy it will be IF we get to heaven and discover Trevor is there.... We pray that Trevor in some way... [had] things straight with You [God] before this terrible occasion." I know my son's spiritual foundation was not built on what he did, but on what Christ did for him. I liken it to my mother's Alzheimer's. She raged and cursed. That was not my mother; it was her diseased brain. Drugs had altered Trevor's brain, rewiring to tell him drugs were his best solution to his pain. He responded physiologically, not spiritually. 

Every day, I wake with the realization that my son is no longer with us here on earth. I take comfort, because of his trust in Christ's atoning act on the cross, and believe we will be reunited one day in Heaven. Others may scoff and weep for his lost soul; I claim the atoning cross of Christ and His promise of eternal life. If you have not trusted in Christ, consider the gospel message (proclaimed in Trevor's funeral) and accept the free gift of eternal life. May Trevor, in death, reach more than we had hoped and prayed in life.

Book Review: The Anxious Generation

A friend recommended The Anxious Generation: How the Great Rewiring of Childhood is Causing an Epidemic of Mental Illness. It is quite popular, at #17 on Amazon charts. If only this important book had come out when I was still stumbling through new parenting territory with my sons. "Hindsight is 20/20," as they say. If only we knew then, what we know now. In ignorance, we launched into a technological world with ramifications we couldn't possibly foresee. This is a sobering look at why our young people are riddled with anxiety. Some of the author's recommendations are, indeed, being fleshed out in our society. Schools are trying to become phone-free zones. Sadly, the changes will not come swiftly enough and my own children are saddled with my unintentional mistakes.

Jonathan Haidt intended to write a book on how social media disrupts society. After finishing the first chapter, he realized the thrust of the book needed to focus on how childhood has been disrupted by a phone-based existence. While I don't agree with this author's atheistic worldview, his arguments ring true. It is horrifying. Toward the end of the book, he writes a paragraph that helped me understand why we failed to see the dangers. He writes:

"The diffusion of digital technology into children's lives has been like smoke pouring into our homes. We all see that something strange is happening, but we don't understand it. We fear that the smoke is having bad effects on our children, but when we look around, nobody is doing much about it."

This is true. I looked to those around me when I considered what to allow or disallow in my home. I gave in to the pressure of, "Every other kid has a phone, Mom." If I had it to do over, with the wisdom from this book, I would have emphasized real-world experiences and relationships, limited freedom on their phones, and talked them through the new conundrums they faced with technology.

I loved the summaries at the end of each chapter. They made it easier to digest and retain the mass of information gleaned in these pages. The key problem for children born after 1995 (as all my sons were) is that they were overprotected in the real world and underprotected in the virtual world. Haidt identifies four harms of phone-based childhood: sleep deprivation, social deprivation, attention fragmentation, and addiction.

I recently saw news of new "tin-can" phones that parents are giving their children. Other parents are giving their kids landlines. These phones are stripped of the dangerous social media exposure and instant information overload. Our children need physical play and social interaction to learn how to navigate relationships. The digital world has altered all of our relationships. Thus, the takeaway from this book extends beyond how the phone influenced the maturation of our children. It highlights how different our world is today from that in which we were raised. After reading this book, I'm not only regretting my past parenting mistakes, but I'm also wanting to join Carlos Whittaker and unplug more for myself. It is a difficult balance. Writers are encouraged to be available and involved online. Yet, there is a cost. Do I really want to pay that cost any more? This whole subject will fill my thoughts for many days to come.

Book Review: Companions in the Darkness

There are some who, having had the blues, feel they understand clinical depression. From their perspective, especially if they consider themselves Christians, they see it as a lack of faith. Too often, Christians with clinical depression are given well-meaning advice like, "choose joy," "just pray," or, "just read the Word more." Indeed, I watched a video by Millicent Sedra touting a "name it, claim it" perspective. She is a new internet sensation and ends with that very advice, "get your eyes off yourself and onto the Lord." I don't wish clinical depression on anyone, but those who have never known the depth seem all too quick to cast judgement on those who walk in darkness. This book, Companions in the Darkness, highlights seven saints who battled severe depression. I can't imagine anyone turning to Spurgeon and saying, "You choose your identity. Get your eyes off yourself, man!"

Diana Gruver has written a book that is highly important and a must-read if you're a Christian battling clinical depression. Companions in the Darkness: Seven Saints Who Struggled with Depression and Doubt yells with a megaphone, "You are not alone! You are not useless!" Diana Gruver outlines the lives and strategies of seven key figures like Charles Spurgeon, Martin Luther, and Mother Teresa. Many of the seminal hymns we sing were written by individuals familiar with this battle. It is possible to face doubt and despair in the midst of strong faith in God.

Indeed, I can see Gruver writing a follow-up book with the same message, focusing on greats of the Bible. There is a place for lament (Lamentations, David's psalms of lament). Prophets expressed depths of despair to the point of no longer wanting to live. Moses, in Numbers 11:15, declared to God, "I'd rather you kill me!" Job was perfect and upright. He feared God and eschewed evil. He was considered such a threat that Satan was determined to break him. In the midst of his physical, emotional, and spiritual battle, Job wished his life would end (Chapters 3, 7, 10). Can you see a self-righteous Christian today saying to Ezekiel, "Stop being self-indulgent! Gain some spiritual maturity, will you? You're looking at your circumstances and lacking in your faith. Your doubt is sin."

From Martin Luther's life, the reader learns the spiritual lesson of looking to the wounds of Christ. (Indeed, too many Christians seem to forget that Christ himself was despairing to the point of sweating drops of blood. Should the disciples have chastized him with, "Get your eyes off yourself?") If Christ bore wounds and the intense separation from the Father to atone for our sin debt, we can look to those wounds to help us endure the abyss. Luther also advised others to flee solitude and chase the smallest glimmers of joy that can be found.

From Hannah Allen's life we learn the imporance of journaling. This reminds us how God has intervened in the past. It also helps us recall the truths of the faith. Hannah's life encourages us to change our surroundings, as this sometimes helps. Sometimes, like David Brainerd, you must "choose to go, rather than stay." Forcing yourself to do what feels impossible, the next thing, moves you closer to healing. With Brainerd, may we say, "May every breath bring God glory and leave a legacy of faithful weakness."

The great hymn-writer William Cooper was incapacitated by depression and felt himself "on the rack." He, too, encourages us to seek a change of scenery and keep busy. His story reminds us to exercise, get outdoors, and be merry by force. Another great lesson I learn from Cooper's story is to "cling to the people God has brought into your life."

What a testimony Charles Spurgeon's life was. Gruver writes, "He also would not tolerate the accusation that good Christians do not get depressed. 'God's people sometimes walk in darkness and see no light.'" He was incredibly useful in spite of suffering physical pain and mental anguish. He preached thousands of sermons and sent countless letters. He was a wounded healer. I love that Gruver emphasized Isaiah 48:10, "I have chosen thee in the furnace of affliction." At the end of this section, Gruver shared a letter she received in the midst of a dark spell. Her friend wrote these powerful words,"You are brave! You stand in the dark, whispering truth to yourself!"

In the section on Mother Teresa, Gruver comments on why depressed individuals often cannot take in the well-meaning reminder that God is close to the brokenhearted. She says, "That truth doesn't resonate in our icy hearts... prayer is different in the dark. It is filled with pain and longing." Mother Teresa walked with an unseen limp, a spiritual burden of feeling like God was absent. Yet, we must be obedient even in the limping, because like Gruver says, "He created you... with a beautiful way only you can image Him to the world." What a great reminder!

Finally, Gruver highlights Martin Luther King, Jr. He did not speak of his depression and did not seek any treatment, but those close to him recognized his despair and anguish. He battled sleeplessness. Exhaustion often exacerbates depression. He tapped four reservoirs: 1) the reservoir of resilience (press ahead regardless of opposition); 2) the reservoir of humor (laughter is a coping mechanism that keeps the demons at bay); 3) the reservoir of song (spirituals and songs like "Joshua Fit the Battle" inspired hope); and 4) the reservoir of spirituality (cosmic companionship - he said, "God's companionship does not stop at the cell door; God is your cell mate.").

Don't think this book is not for you if you've never battled depression. Chances are great that you know or have met someone who has. In the first appendix, Gruver offers ten useful steps to take when helping a friend/loved one who is depressed. In the second appendix, she provides brief biographies of each of the seven key figures. I probably took notes more intensely than usual. I need to return to these reminders and strategies when my own clinical depression pulls me under. Indeed, I may return to this book when life hits extra hard and, in spite of sound faith, my emotions and feelings threaten to overwhelm. It is a treasure chest of encouragement. 

Book Review: When Life Feels Empty - Highly Recommend

I can't remember who recommended Isaac Serrano's book, When Life Feels Empty. Perhaps it was someone in the Rabbit Room Chinwag group on Facebook. They recommend excellent books. I needed the content of this book to remind me where to plug into the source of power and hope. This was another book I listened to in audio form and then accessed in ebook form, so I could take notes.

We live in a world ruled by a materialistic worldview. As such, we are influenced by that mindset. We cannot get away from this lens that assumes the physical is all that exists. Without telos (life purpose and meaning), we feel empty. With excellent structure, Serrano outlines why we feel empty, 7 practices to address this, and why those practices work to shape us into who we were meant to be.

From the book of Ecclesiastes, we explore the idea that "everything is vanity (hevel)." If our gaze is horizontal, we will feel that way. Only when we fix our gaze vertically, do we grasp the telos necessary for enduring this life. We were meant to be trees, growing vertically. Instead, we waste time in emptiness and addictions. Serrano emphasizes that "belief must be embodied." The seven practices he outlines seek to help us do just that.

The first practice stunned me. I realized if I had incorporated this practice into my weekly fasting, I would have left my prayer times impressed instead of distressed. The first of seven beneficial practices is song. Singing releases oxytocin. Even heartbeats sync when singing together. Singing of God's mercy and love roots us in those promises. I intend to pursue this practice far more.

Serrano explains the next two practices. Baptism is storytelling with our body, a physical manifestation of the new life we receive in Christ. Communion roots us in time. We celebrate the past (Christ's body broken), the present (the new covenant through His blood), and the future (His return). Another way he puts it: baptism is the wedding and communion is the wedding ring.

The fourth practice is another one I intend to hone in on more. Serrano demonstrates that God's will is for us to express thanksgiving. He recommends we even face the east (the position of Christ's return) while we do so. I have implemented prayer far more in the past several years, but have I sufficiently incorporated thanksgiving in those prayer times?

The final three practices? Read the Bible (so essential for fixing our gaze vertically instead of horizontally). Attend church (we were meant for community - indeed, isolation destroys health and longevity and even breeds addiction). Pray the Lord's Prayer (there is a reason Christ gave this as an example. Why don't we use it more regularly?). 

The last section is equally instructive as he outlines why we should not be "conformed to the spirit of the age." God is a sculptor, forming us into a masterpiece. Following these ancient spiritual practices lends meaning to our lives and works with God instead of against Him. I highly recommend this deeper consideration of well-known practices that are proven essential. What a great book! I intend to visit this one again in the future.

Book Review: Still Waters

Still Waters is the second Jane Rubietta book I read during my devotional time in the morning. I didn't interact with any of the journaling questions, activity options, or silence suggestions. Still, I appreciated the topics covered: rest, depression, creativity, anger, control (a challenging chapter), happiness, worry, hospitality, and love. Rubietta quoted Mother Theresa as saying, "We are all pencils in the hand of God." That's a lovely image! I liked the title from a Robert Frost poem, "Happiness Makes Up in Height for What it Lacks in Length." How desperately I needed the chapter called "Don't Let the Bedbugs Bite: Working on Worry and Fret." I always tell my kids that worry is my superpower. If only it were a positive thing, instead of the lack of trust it truly demonstrates. This book nurtured positive things in my soul. 

Jumping Off Into a New Future

Our family is jumping off into a new future. In many ways we are unprepared. While eager to see how the changes play out in our lives, there's an abiding hesitancy that is hard to push down. Change is uncomfortable, unwieldy. To a certain extent, none of us wanted to move into the new, the untried. Yet, I know it will be good for each of us in the end. For now, we feel discombobulated!

Last week, John and I became empty nesters. We loaded the car full to the brim with belongings and moved our youngest, Sean, into a tiny Purdue University dorm room. My Facebook feed, as usual, knew exactly what was going on, and inundated me with images of magazine-worthy dorm rooms, sentimental articles, and lists of what to bring. As if the emotions weren't already tender, I had to wade through the detritus of on-line advice and eloquent parental good-byes (one woman lined a whole hallway with her son's childhood toys saying good-bye).

When we took Bryce to Purdue, he ushered us out of the room as soon as the last item hit the floor. Perhaps it was because we had his 8 and 10-year-old brothers in tow. That transition was painless. Bryce was eager to go. We still had responsibilities at home. Thankfully, Purdue isn't far away (as my sister pointed out, since she was a 20-hour drive away from her college kids). Plus, Bryce had a girlfriend back home, so I drove to Purdue way too often to bring him home for weekend visits.

This time is different. Sean is our last to leave. I have always called him "my sweetness and light." Sure, he was busy with friends, school, activities, and work during his final year at home, but he moved in and out of our lives daily. Now, the house is far too quiet. My role is done. My identity is blurred.

I'd love to think this might jump-start me back into writing consistently. Somehow, I doubt it will. Neither noise nor time keeps me from the writing. I'd love to find a new activity. In a Facebook group, a woman asked for short story suggestions as she had just taken up a post leading a book club in an assisted living facility. Now that sounds perfect!

Perhaps I need to get a job. We will have expenses we were not anticipating and there's the Purdue bill, as well. Somehow, I doubt anyone will hire someone who has been out of the workforce for 18 years. My gig was good, even if it was unpaid, often had lousy hours, and sometimes felt thankless.

Of course, there's a freedom now, too. The first night, John and I window-shopped at a flea market. I've been wanting a vintage sewing box to store my now-minimized sewing supplies. Then, we popped into a bakery, hoping for a strawberry pie. Alas, they only had strawberry-rhubarb (too tart for me). Finally, we ate out for dinner. It was better than going home to the now-quiet-house.

We can make more effort to get away for a weekend. Perhaps we'll take that trip to Mackinac Island. Even if it is just away to our old standbys (Nashville, IN; Rockville, IN for the Covered Bridge Festival; or even closer towns), it will be good to travel and spend time in the couple identity we have reclaimed. I have a few friends I've wanted to visit or invite. The possibilities are endless, really. I should cling to that when loneliness and quiet threaten to overwhelm.

So far, all of this is focused on Sean, John, and me. But, Trevor is at his own crossroads. I try not to divulge much because his story is his own and sometimes isn't as tidy as people like to hear (or I like to tell). We continue to pray fervently for God to use him in a mighty way. At the end of July, we moved Trevor into a halfway house in Lafayette, so our younger two are living in sister cities. 

He has been on a long and challenging road this past year (one we have traveled both from a distance and alongside). Not a single day is assured. He told us once that he has skirted death at least ten different times. We try hard to fight the urge to protect him from his testimony. God has a plan and He is the only One capable of getting Trevor where he needs to go. God's plans are always for our good and His glory.

So, we are each heading off in new directions. We step into the unknown timidly, but with the assurance that God walks with us. An empty nest. A college education. A chance to transition into a life of sobriety, maturity, and purpose. 

My Wheaton College class selected a verse of scripture that I still know and embrace. I may be using it out of context, but I cling to this promise nonetheless:

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." (Jeremiah 29:11 - NIV)

Mid-month Mention: Bereavement Resources

My heart has been heavily burdened since the end of February. I have a good friend, L, who lost her son years ago when he was a child. She is such a compassionate and encouraging individual. At one point, when my young boys were getting to me, I ran away from home and drove to visit her overnight. We ate at a fine Mexican restaurant and chatted well into the night. Indeed, she talked me down from a ledge. I adore her!

The last Sunday in February, I received a text saying her 34-year-old daughter (and L's only remaining child) had died in a car accident. The daughter leaves behind 2 young sons. This is a catastrophic loss! I am speechless (not that any amount of words could help when the volume of pain is so great). Every prayer begins with L's name and a request for God to comfort where no comfort seems possible. This great loss, combined with the intensity in my personal situation with a wayward child, has brought discouragement and depression.

I was curious to see if there were any resources on-line for parents who have lost all their children. My friend is not in this camp alone. Indeed, several weeks back, there was a police chase nearby where a collision caused the deaths of two small children. I cannot fathom this dynamic of grief. One morning, this mother was dressing and kissing her two little ones and sending them off with their dad. The next, she was grieving the loss of both her children and worrying over their dad's injuries.

The best online options I could find with this specific dynamic was on a resource page offered by the University of Iowa. They provide a list of a dozen books on the loss of a child and a half dozen websites. They also mentioned the only resource I could find to reach and comfort parents who have experienced the loss of all their children. Alive Alone is a support page specifically for parents who have no remaining children.

Music can soothe my soul when I'm consumed with trouble. I found a brief list of songs for a grieving mother on The Teacher's Wife blog. Lately, I have been comforted by some songs by Leanna Crawford. I first encountered her song, "Still Waters," reflecting the comfort from the 23rd Psalm ("Write scripture on your heart for when you need it."). Last week, I discovered "Better Yet."  When I searched these links, I found her song, "Honest." It is my constant prayer, these days, that God will carry L and all who are in the throes of extreme loss. The Lord can give comfort that none of us can provide. 

Book Review: You Are a Tree

I always appreciate learning about books that my friends recommend on Good Reads. My friend, Sarah Ilsters, posted about this book. I'm grateful I found an audio copy available on Hoopla. The book contained so much to glean that I also accessed the eBook version and took notes.

In You Are a Tree, Clarkson explores various metaphors we use for things like wisdom, depression, love, and faith. One reviewer found it too heady, but for this English major graduate, it was a pure delight to delve into the words we use to explain and understand our lives and our faith. Metaphors help us express profound concepts. In this book, the author explores seven metaphors, many of which feel very familiar (people as trees, wisdom as light, life as a journey). But her words, expounding on these ideas, are ripe with meaning. She discusses our drive to be productive, as we so often see ourselves as machines. The Bible is chock-full of metaphors to help us understand God and His ways.

I was eager to access the eBook besides listening to the audio. At the end of each metaphor chapter, Clarkson offers resources to explore in connection with the ideas she has presented. These sections provide a prayer, an activity, a list of paintings, films, poems, podcasts, etc. to consider, and an explanation of why she recommends them. They were rich and provided a great jumping-off place. Excellent books move you to incorporate and personalize what you've read.

What a joy to take apart words and examine how we use them to elaborate on what we experience! I loved how she used scripture to flesh out ideas of wisdom and light. Her words on journeys and sadness moved me. This is a book I would love to own to highlight passages and explore the suggestions for further consideration. At the end, Clarkson provides further reading to accompany each chapter. I could spend hours thinking about the metaphors discussed in this articulate and engaging book!

Book Review: Reasons to Stay Alive

Matt Haig, author of The Midnight Library and How to Stop Time, has written an intimate book about his experience with anxiety and depression. I'm confused because it is billed as both a novel and a memoir. What parts are true? What parts fabricated? Regardless, I wanted to read this book. 

How I wish this subject didn't interest me! How I wish it was something completely foreign! I have battled clinical depression ever since my miscarriage, prior to my oldest son's birth. When we discovered Bryce's unexpected pregnancy, I had to stop taking the depression meds. It wasn't long before I was on them again, though, due to postpartum blues. For some reason, I didn't sink low after Trevor's birth. But, I suffered the worst bout of depression after my final childbirth. 

I'm familiar with the depths Haig is outlining and dissecting in Reasons to Stay Alive. I know the suicidal thoughts, the panic attacks, and the encompassing emptiness. Going off the medicine never works for me. I cannot battle this monster without it, much to my dismay. Those who have struggled with true depression (not just a blue day or two) will relate to Haig's descriptive analysis. His honesty and vulnerability are refreshing. Too often, we shy away from sharing our struggles. He has bared his soul (or created a soul similar to his own) and readers will benefit and find hope and solace in his words. There are, indeed, many reasons to stay alive.

Mid-month Mention: Hope for my Hurting Heart

In the month of July, my heart was gutted. The love of a parent for a child is a bond like no other. If biological, you have not chosen that child; that child was chosen for you by God. The Lord gives an intensity of love upon birth that cannot be rivaled. Yet, that child, chosen by God for you, can also bring an intensity of pain, betrayal, and heartbreak.

I was searching up something entirely different, when I happened upon the scripture writing videos of The Homespun Wife (Sherry M. Hefner) on You Tube. I thought perhaps I might get back into scripture writing. I had used that practice several years ago, but had revamped my morning quiet time without incorporating the writing of scripture. You Tube highlights other videos along the side bar and I noticed one by The Homespun Wife called The Truth About My Son. This video resonated with me. It is also terrifying to me. Despite five years in this, we are at the beginning of our walk with an addict. I feel overwhelmed when I recognize that this journey will probably stretch on for years. Her son was turning 37 a year ago. Ours is on the cusp of his 20s. When I think about decades more of this trial, my heart wants to give up in defeat. But The Homespun Wife's message is one of encouragement:

"You are never abandoned."

 "God is your only hope."

In the scripture writing video, Sherry mentioned her husband's sermon series, challenging his listeners to analyze what things in the world keep them from their calling from God. I immediately thought of my son's addiction and how it has kept me from God's calling on my life to write. I mentally asserted, "I will not let my son's addiction keep me from God's calling on my life to write!" Another sermon asked listeners to list "Lord, I give this brokenness to you: (my son's addiction)." Another one encouraged listeners to write, "I want to please God through: (my prayer life)."

Next, I followed Sherry's You Tube page to discover a new book she has just published called We Have This Hope. Since she already has a huge following on her You Tube channel and Facebook, she will probably do well in getting her book out to the masses. I may purchase it. Mostly, I'm glad I stumbled upon her You Tube channel because her words ministered to my aching heart and reminded me that God has called me for a purpose and I cannot let the trials of this world stand in the way of that calling. I will continue to pray for my wayward son (and others on this painful journey). I have resumed daily scripture writing. You may wish to watch her video about a new scripture writing Facebook group and join that group (although I just learned yesterday that the group is temporarily not taking new members due to the huge response, but I imagine it will open again at some point). If you follow any of these links to The Homespun Wife, I pray her words encourage your souls, too!

"I will be with you as I was with Moses;

I will not fail you or abandon you.

Be strong and courageous! (NLT)

Book Review: What a Wave Must Be

I don't recall what in the teaser lured me in to What a Wave Must Be by Angela Hunt. The title comes from an Emily Dickinson line. "I never saw a moor, I never saw the sea; Yet know I how the heather looks, and what a wave must be." Perhaps it was the first line of the book blurb: "a powerful story of a family's journey toward healing and hope after an unimaginable loss." I receive book recommendations from Hoopla based on my previous experiences. Thus, I think they listed this among Christian audio selection suggestions.

This was the exact sort of difficult I have been shying away from. I'm not the target audience at this time. Indeed, I wanted to give up several times, but felt I couldn't waste the invested time. Readers should know from the start that this book discusses the theological, emotional, and social implications of suicide. That, in itself, is hard, but as the numbers rose, I felt like a test dummy assaulted time after time in crashing vehicles. I know it is important to grapple with difficult subjects. Moreover, it can't be fun to take that on as a task. I just wish I had not gone there.

At least the author's note at the end helped somewhat. She explained her purpose. She wanted to alert people to the reality of clusters of suicides, especially among young people. I'm sure her goal was to provide that "healing and hope" mentioned in the book blurb. I just wasn't at a place to hear the communications of hope and healing well. If suicide has touched you (my husband's younger brother took his life) this book can go one of two ways for you. It can either help you process this difficult discussion or it can trigger emotional overwhelm. You might feel reassured. You might feel drawn down into the depths (what happened to the daughter). Assess yourself prior to opening the cover. And now, I'm off to cleanse my palate with another light-hearted rom-com. 😀 

📒 Content Caution: Difficult subject, possibly triggering for some

When the Way is Fraught With Grief and Fear

I am in the throes of grief and anxiety. This week has tested me sorely, and I have felt isolated and alone in the midst of it all. Yes, I cling to the Lord, but that doesn't hold the fears and sorrows at bay. Sometimes the trials pile on in ways that feel overwhelming and unendurable. While I cannot share all of what plagues our lives at the moment, even the smaller details loom large on my heart.

I will back up some, to Wednesday, 6/18, when my husband finally could address the pain and discomfort he has endured for months. We arrived at 9 to prepare for his 11 a.m. hernia surgery. Sadly, just before they wheeled him to the OR, the power went out in the hospital (and, we learned, all over Danville, IN). They do not perform elective surgeries when they are on back-up generators, so we waited for the power to be restored. The wait was excruciating for John because he had consumed nothing since the night before. This left him parched and unable to receive any liquid. Once they restored the power, we faced new delays. They had to reduce the humidity that had grown in the OR rooms during the outage, and every surface had to be re-cleaned. They didn't wheel him back until 3 p.m.

Praising God that the surgery went well, and he woke from it. Apparently, there had been three hernias to address. Recovery went far more quickly six years ago, when he had hernia surgery on his right side. That is probably because of age (after all, he is over 60 now) rather than the number of hernias found. The pain in that area persists. He assumes it is from the mesh inserted that is still healing with scar tissue to settle in place. He gets stabbing pains, especially when trying to get in or out of a car. I asked him to check with the doctor to see if they consider such pain normal, but he wanted to wait for the follow-up appointment in several weeks. Thankfully, he called on Friday, but they have not yet returned his call. We continue to wonder why his body is in such pain after the hernia repair.

Meanwhile, my mother was declining. She forgot how to eat and my dad had to feed her meals. She struggled with breathing, so they reduced many of her meds and put her on oxygen. On Saturday, 6/22, she was no longer chewing and swallowing the food, so they instructed my dad to stop feeding her solids. By Monday, 6/24, her body began shutting down (high fever and swelling) and they said if anyone wanted to come see her before her passing, they should come soon. 

I felt torn. Much as I would have wanted to have some final moments with her, I doubted she would recognize my presence or absence and going then would mean two trips to Florida (on top of all the many flights we have paid for this year to Florida and Texas). I did not go. Of course, some may have felt we should all rush down there, but the distance and cost made it challenging. Moreover, I prefer memories of her in a communicative state, instead of the bedside vigil with her barely breathing. (Albeit, my last day with my mother did not leave pleasant memories, so I cling to the happy moments we shared during my week of caring for her in March while my father recovered from heart surgery). My sister flew down immediately and my older brother arrived the following day.

During all this, we were dealing with intense chaos at home (prodigal related and marriage related). The marital friction only compounded my feelings of isolation and loneliness in approaching my mother's departure. I no longer have the outlet of counseling. The troubles with my son often seem more than I can bear. My husband and I are not in agreement as to the best course of action, so instead we retreat into inaction, clinging solely to prayer (begging God to intervene where we seem incapable).

As for my mother, there was the uncertainty of when the passing will occur. They said she had pneumonia. What if she battled and rallied, only to linger in hospice for a long time? That is not an unusual occurrence. The waiting and the uncertainty added depth to the grieving process.

My mother passed away on the afternoon of Thursday, 6/27th. Although she has been mentally gone from us for almost a decade, I grieve her loss nonetheless. We shared a special bond, joined by our love of writing and reading. She was the most supportive individual I have had for my writing. She read my blog religiously and encouraged me to keep plowing away, when public recognition of my writing has seemed out of reach. Even apart from my writing, she boosted my spirits by always writing back to my letters (something she said she appreciated from me, as well). We shared books we had read and loved. We often read books at the other's recommendation. She nurtured, she loved, she encouraged, she uplifted me. She listened without plowing straight into instruction and advice.

I wish I could be more like her. She never felt ill-will towards others. Despite a reserved personality, she expressed love and encouragement to those around her. Her voice, reading anything, was eloquent and sweet. Her handwriting, impeccable, with precision and beauty. My handwriting used to be like hers, but over time, mine has become a scrawl. And her laugh! What a beautiful laugh. It tinkled with joy.

I spent some time re-reading some emails I still have on my computer. Her sense of humor shines through. When a paint can fell on her head, requiring six staples in her skull, she regaled me with details of the event: "The doctor comes in and tells me that everything looked fine - I still have a brain... They did let me take a shower... but couldn't let the shower hit directly on the area. It was hard to do because I had so much blood in my hair. I looked like a 'punk rocker' with red hair sticking out all over. Unfortunately (no make that fortunately), we didn't take a picture. So that's why I didn't write yesterday." 

After a kidney stone interrupted their trip to a St. Louis Salvation Army conference, she ended her letter with "Love, your cast-in-stone Mom." Another time, she wrote, "We have two books we've bought regarding selling things on E-bay, but apparently just having the books in your house does not accomplish anything." Ha! I can relate. Sometimes she responded with humor to my faux pas: "Regarding the movie [you intend] to show John, please don't look for one called 'God is Dead' because that would not be a good movie. The movie was called 'God's Not Dead' and hurrah for that!"

In February 2016, when she failed to write me back, I feared I had offended her. I wrote to her, "I worried I offended you by asking how you were doing with the ability to retain what you read. I hope you are doing very well. I so enjoy talking about books with you and when the dementia was first diagnosed, I felt such incredible sadness that we might lose the tender bond books give us." She assured me she was not offended, but all correspondence with her evaporated after June 2016, so my fears came true. Our bond over books dissolved.

My dad captured this beautiful image of her in 2022. She is in the dining room where she so often smiled and greeted others with repeated messages of love and encouragement.

This is the last photo I took of her when her mental acuity was fully intact. It was from the vacation Trevor and I took to visit my parents in Florida during the spring break of 2015.

This is the last photo I had taken of the two of us together during my visit to care for her in my father's absence while he recovered from his heart surgery.

Here is a link to a video I have of my mom reciting a poem for another individual's celebration of life. It seems fitting to share this video and these words upon her own passing. I apologize because I could not figure out how to increase the volume. It is very soft, but the words, and my mother's fine reading are sweet. (You can click on the CC - closed captioning - button and the words will appear for you, to make it easier.)

As difficult as the grieving process may be, the troubles in our home loom far more threatening. If you are a praying person, please lift our family to God's throne. We need His intervention desperately. We are hanging by a thread. That careless and flippant phrase rises to the surface: "God never gives you more than you can handle!" Not true! Indeed, He gives us more than we can handle to remind us we cannot handle things on our own strength. We have a thorn in the flesh and nothing will remove it. But may God grant us grace to live with what we've been called to carry and wisdom to pray and act in ways that are pleasing to Him.

Book Review: Hooked

It has been a year since I've worked on a writing project. This activity that informed my identity for so long is now inaccessible. Despite distance and therapy, the trauma of finding my son mid-opioid overdose last June and the ongoing struggles we face with him have sucked my writing dry. I've made a few attempts, but the motivation and spark have vanished. The only image I can use to illustrate where I'm at is a PBS documentary I once watched called Victorian Slum House. In it, modern day families shed their current conveniences and schedules to live in a mock Victorian community. This is the level of hardship I face when I contemplate working on a piece of writing or a new project. It is like asking me to leave behind all the amenities I'm used to for a hard-scrabble lifestyle. Writing is just too arduous!

The other day, I thought, "Well, if I cannot rouse myself to work on something new, maybe I should polish something old." So, I brought up the middle grade novel which holds the most promise. Formatting it into the proper manuscript form for submission might be a worthy project. I hoped to rekindle the dying embers of my writing passion, submerged from trauma and tension. Alas, this depressed me all the more.

My old writer's group helped polish the first paragraph several years ago. I had offered three different opening paragraphs and welcomed their insights and votes. Yet, when I opened the file now, I realized even the best of those three attempts was pure rubbish! Garbage! I set the paragraph aside as if it might explode in my hands if held too long.

Instead, I picked up a book on my personal shelf called Hooked: Write Fiction That Grabs Readers at Page One and Never Lets Them Go, by Les Edgerton. The book made my task feel even more daunting. It focuses on inciting incidents, initial surface problems, and story worthy problems. It encourages you to consider anew where your story should begin. The book provides so many excellent examples. Indeed, when Edgerton dissected the story elements and beginning finesse in a few movies, I sought those movies and watched with a writer's eye. Now, I had more aspects to digest. My opening was truly boring; it needed a complete overhaul. 

Somehow I wrote an opening that is better. I may still work it up more, but it is sound enough to escape the excuse against starting the manuscript re-write. Before I begin, however, I may seek even more instruction. I plan to re-read another one on my shelf, The First Five Pages. If I'm going to get back into writing by the back door of editing old manuscripts, I might as well make the first five pages count. Besides, my mojo for reading hasn't failed me like the writing energy has!

Book Review: The Miracle Morning

With a bright yellow cover emblazoned with a sun, The Miracle Morning promises to change your life. I noticed the buzz surrounding this book (#804 in Books on Amazon and #29 in Motivational Self-help Books on the day I wrote this review). It begins with the author's incredible story of change implemented in his own life. His first challenge occurred when he was involved in a devastating car accident. It was such a harrowing description I read it aloud to my husband and youngest son. The extensive damage Hal Elrod faced when he was 20 is astounding. Yet, this near-death experience wasn't the lowest point in his life.

Elrod's second rock-bottom came with the financial devastation brought on by the Great Recession in 2008. Drowning in despair and feeling helpless to climb out of the hole, Elrod wanted to give up. Then a friend challenged him to go for a run, something he despised doing. The positive result led Elrod to research the practices and rituals of highly successful individuals. In the end, he came up with his Miracle Morning routine. Over time it took off and people joined the Miracle Morning Community, sharing their successes found through using these strategies. The number of book endorsements is staggering!

The author breaks 7 practices down into the acronym SAVERS. I love how you can personalize the plan. Observe these elements for as short or as long as you desire, in whatever order works best for you. SAVERS stands for Silence, Affirmation, Visualization, Exercise, Reading, and Scribing. I wasn't expecting anything earth-shattering or new. 

I already have an extensive morning routine. After I wake between 4:30 and 6, I drink a black coffee with a small spoonful of coconut oil (this, together with a word puzzle, gets my brain charged and my body further into ketosis). Then I head to my basement desk. I begin with my prayer time (both for my Facebook friends and a list I keep in a prayer journal). Next, I spend some time studying God's Word and read daily passages from 2 devotional books. After I complete my daily BSF (Bible Study Fellowship) homework (heartwork) and pray for the women in my group, I write my "morning pages." (I learned this from Julia Cameron's book, The Artist's Way, many years ago. If you're curious about morning pages, take a few minutes to watch this video by Martin Sketchley - I love his videos because he incorporates doodles into his explanations and talks about the writing process.)

By this time, my husband is up and has brewed the "good coffee." I fire up my computer to tend to emails and often waste too much time on Facebook. Eventually, I pull myself away to exercise for a half hour. While I cool down, I clean the kitchen, play Wordle and Connections, then shower and begin my day officially. So, I've already had a routine that hits many of the words in Elrod's acronym (all but affirmation and visualization). 

I hesitate to believe adding those activities could lead out of mediocrity and into passionate purpose fulfillment. Yet, I wouldn't say this was a wasted read. He is highly motivational. Indeed, I may purchase this book for Bryce. I encouraged my husband to read the brief section on night routines. The author dealt with a similar bout of insomnia, like my husband's lengthy foray into sleeplessness. I suppose I even liked the book enough to consider purchasing it (despite my current purging goals), if I ever see it on the cheap at a thrift store or garage sale. It was a worthwhile and life-affirming read, full of inspiration for living a life without regrets.

Book Review: Reset

Perhaps it is because I am involved in counseling at the moment. Or perhaps it is because starting a new year often triggers a desire to turn over new leaves. My new leaf involves slimming down for my son's upcoming wedding in September. It is really driven by a second goal, though; I am fearful of being diagnosed with diabetes or heart issues (my dad struggles with both). And third, I am determined to forge healthier relationships. Those are my reasons for seeking Debra Fileta's book, Reset: Powerful Habits to Own Your Thoughts, Understand Your Feelings, and Change Your Life. And that is why, after completing this book (similar to what I did with Gary Thomas' books), I checked it out again in e-book form, so I could take notes and digest more fully the wisdom within the pages.

Reset begins with this premise: "Thoughts lead to feelings; feelings lead to behavior." The book structure follows a month-long process to alter old patterns that fail to serve well. Fileta outlines 31 steps to take in this process, things like pause, acknowledge, decide, and plan. Last year, my goal was to pray more. I learned how important the planning process was in making that behavioral change. As Fileta observes, "The success or failure of your ability to act on your desire for change hinges on how much you've prepared for it.... Wanting it badly enough won't magically get you to a better place... you're going to have to spend some time preparing." In order to be intentional, I created prayer cards for each individual, cataloguing every need and request. I set aside 3 times a day to focus on those cards and individuals. This year, I'm trying to be intentional, as well. I track my food intake, my fitness activity, my water consumption, and my intermittent fasting hours.

I know I need to tackle a few steps outlined. She recommends identifying your default mode and negative thoughts, then doing it differently. I will need to spend plenty of time on practice 11: Call out the lies. The last steps all include self-care practices like finding mind/body outlets, filling yourself up (physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually), unplugging, resting, and breathing. My biggest challenge will be to tackle practice 29: connect with God and others. Connecting with God will be easy; connecting with others is something I find more challenging. Just as I learned years ago in my phone life-coaching with Mike, I need to repair some of the missing social spokes.

I wanted to take the Holmes/Rahe Life Stress Inventory the author mentioned as available on her website, but I could not find it. It would be interesting to assess my stress levels. She also mentioned a book I would like to seek, Holy Noticing, by Charles Stone. Not sure if I can find that and doubt I want to purchase it. If you are attempting to meet new goals this year, Reset just might help you tackle and change patterns of behavior that hold you back.

Midmonth Mention - 5 Songs for a Weary Soul

I'm in a dark place these days. God's presence continues, but it feels more like a nightlight than a shining sun. What stupidity! I'm opening old wounds and traumas through EMDR therapy. Not the right moment to free myself from a decades-long regimen of chronic depression medication. Sadly, at my follow-up psychiatrist appointment, it was obviously imperative I resume those meds. While I'm disgruntled, I am grateful for the medicine that seems to put me on a more even keel. No idea how long it will take for the two-month hiatus to be rectified by the reinstitution.

In addition to lancing wounds, I've diminished two things that were structural supports in my life: writing and reading. Although I haven't abandoned either, the diminished activity leaves a gaping hole. I continue to do personal writing in my daily pages and send notes to people for my ongoing Facebook prayer project. I listen to an audio book when driving in my car. While I miss those foundational activities, I cannot seem to resume them.

As if personal problems and extended sleep issues wasn't enough to bear, we woke several days this week to find no water. We had visions of a week-long stint in a hotel, waiting for the workers to fix this. I'm so grateful to God. At first, we were told they needed to remove the failed pump for our well, but if they couldn't get it out, they might need to dig a whole new well (tens of thousands of dollars). Praise God, they were able to replace the old one.  It was 61-years old! The guy said most pumps nowadays last ten years. They sure don't make things like they used to! Still, it was a day or two of upheaval and taxing on the emotions.

Last week's counseling appointment homework? Listen to some music to fill the gaping hole left by the reduction in writing and reading. My counselor also recommended two books: Hurt People Hurt People, and Safe People. I only managed one, and that, abridged. Instead, I am compiling a list of soothing songs to address the weariness in my soul. I mention them here, in case you are needing comfort as well.

"Abide With Me," sung by my niece, Kirsten, with The Singing Company:

This song cuts across all the worries and clamor attacking my heart these days. It reminds me of His presence. "When the darkness deepens, Lord, with me abide! Though my fears are strong, Your voice surrounds me."

Early in our marriage, John and I were both big fans of Steve Green's music. Often when I'm facing trials associated with the consequences of my son's choices, I turn to this calming song:

"Rest," by Steve Green, from his Christmas Joy to the World album (love the Salvation Army band with him on the cover)

"Refuse to fear! Enjoy His love! The Lord is near!" Two great commands based on one great reminder! "There is no need for needless worry. With such a Savior, you have no cause to ever doubt."

Another oldie, but goodie. Keith Green's lyrics in this song comfort my heart:

"Make My Life a Prayer to You," by Keith Green, from his No Compromise album

"Save us from ourselves and our despair. It comforts me to know You're really there." "It's so hard to see when my eyes are on me." Oh, how my obstacles obscure my vision!

Chris Rice provides another voice that soothes my soul when facing deep despair:

"My Prayer," by Chris Rice on his Smell the Color Nine album

"Words fail. Tears come. I need someone to take the thoughts I almost think and carry them to God for me." "Long sigh. I'm still numb. Is there anyone who can find the things I'm barely feeling and give them wings beyond my ceiling?" "Sorry, I forgot. You're right here. I cup my hands around Your ear. I feel You smile; You feel my breath. You listen while I whisper nonsense." And, as always, the end is submission to His will.

Finally, another affirmation of submission to His will, this song by Mercy Me:

"Even If," by Mercy Me, from their Lifer album

"Right now I'm losing bad." "It's easy to sing when there's nothing to bring me down. What will I say when I'm held to the flame like I am right now." "God when You choose to leave mountains unmoveable, give me the strength to be able to sing, 'It is well with my soul.'" I so want that resolution! My fingers falter, but still I cling.

I have been thinking again of the passage in 2 Kings 6. The prophet Elisha is aware of the vast opponent approaching. Yet, instead of quaking in his boots, he prays for God to open the eyes of his servant Gehazi. I am praying, too. "Open my eyes to see the armies of angels fighting on Your behalf to bring about Your will, despite how harrowing the odds feel. Instead of fixating on the obstacles, the fears, the failures, I must allow my spiritual eyes to see His hand, even where it doesn't seem present or effective. There are things going on in the spiritual realm that my human eyes and mind cannot comprehend."

So, I pray, "Lord, abide with me. Help me rest, assured of Your power to intervene. May my feeble life be a prayer to You. In my prayer, may I fill the silence with Your smile, Your breath, Your ear. And, even if things don't turn around, if life continues to compound trials, keep my soul content in You."

Book Review: On Getting Out of Bed - Highly Recommend

Do you have a person whose book recommendations move you to seek a book immediately? When Catherine, of A Spirited Mind, recommends one, I jump. She isn't frivolous in handing out 5 stars. Her 5 star Good Reads attribution to this book, On Getting Out of Bed, by Alan Noble, sent me straight to my library website. Within minutes, I was reading the e-book. At only 44 e-book pages long, this essay was a quick and excellent read.

After reading The Body Keeps the Score, I returned to therapy, this time for trauma therapy (EMDR). In addition, I'm weaning from my clinical depression meds. Down days will be inevitable. I well remember days when getting out of bed was a supreme challenge. Alan Noble articulates this struggle well. Mental affliction is not a case of the blues. It isn't a bad day. It is far more pervasive and debilitating. But God...

Noble's main point is that life is a gift and, even in suffering, it is good. God made us with a purpose and He gives each day with divine intent. He writes, "Your being in the world is a witness and 'it counts for something.' Your existence testifies. There is no mitigating this fact. There is nowhere you can hide where your life will not speak something to the world." Even more than his affirming persistence, I loved his discussion on the seriousness of sin. "Our sin proclaims to others that God's promises are not enough.... [they] make sin more plausible for others." This world winks at sin. But even if you don't want to be, you are a witness. Your life bears a message to others. So, what is it you want to say with your one brave life?

Finally, Noble breaks down our motivations for living. You can live because it glorifies God. Or you can live for the world, the flesh, or the devil. How many are trying to live self-sufficient lives? As definer of their own identity, they have no use for God. But God doesn't want us for our usefulness. We have nothing to give to God that He needs. Yet, He delights in us. Moreover, getting out of bed testifies to our trust in God. It proves we believe He knows what each day holds and will carry us through it for as many days as He gives.

Book Review: The Body Keeps the Score

I attempted to read this book a year ago. A friend had raved about it on Facebook. However, only a few pages in (though I cannot remember why), I returned it to the library unread. Now, I'm quite sure the stars were not yet aligned for the best absorption. Sometimes that's how it goes. You try and nothing clicks. Then, you try again and wonder why it didn't work out before. For this particular book, I fully understand the timing.

After my traumatic event in early June (followed by PTSD intrusive thoughts), I was ripe for this book. In The Body Keeps the Score, author Dr. Bessel van der Kolk shows how unhealed trauma wreaks havoc on the mind and body. Oh, how I wish this book had not resonated with me. But it did. The trauma stories are hard to read, yet fascinating. Whether trauma comes in war or in childhood, it does not leave the body unscarred. The marks are there. So often, they simply need the right person to interpret them and the right therapy to heal them. 

Doctors have long thrown pills at the aftereffects of trauma. This covers the wound but may not allow it to heal. Thankfully, a new method, EMDR, using rapid eye movement may hold promise to help individuals put the trauma from the front of the brain to the back of the brain. This book thoroughly explains why our bodies respond the way they do when experiencing trauma. Anyone who has been affected by trauma would benefit from reading this book.