A Sweet Small Voice

I knew I wanted to go back but, I didn't know if it was the "right" thing to do. Even after purchasing my return ticket, I struggled with why I was returning. I asked myself, Do I need proof?, Was it really there?, Did that really happen?  Why do I need to see it again, I saw it already? Will I be able to find it? I knew I saw "SAM", but doubted that "SAM" was there. Am I making this story into something bigger than it really is?  Repeatedly, day after day I was consumed with doubt and questions.  I am on the verge of insanity. I haven't heard from my new friends, traveling to New Orleans.  With the unwavering support of David, I purchase my return ticket, still questioning whether it is "right! "and did I "really" see it.  I consult with several of my close companions, people walking this spiritual journey with me. I get conflicting comments, one asks, "Why do you need to go back?, but do what you have to do!"(fearing I might possibly get hurt by not being able to see SAM again) Another warrior looks at me and says, "I hope you bought your ticket to go back!"You have to go back, it is a part of your faith journey." Yet another stammers," You don't have to prove anything!"

Two to one, returning in the losing corner, yet, "I" still must go. 

Knowing that I am returning, I record my first trip to Sedona writing in this online journal.  Wanting to remember all the details and record each emotion experienced.  The process took and entire day, I was exhausted.    Early the following morning, while checking David's email, I notice a devotional received via email from St. Timothy's.  We having been receiving this daily devotional for quite sometime, not always opening to read, but on this day I say to myself, " I can't pass up an opportunity to read God's word." Double-clicking to open, I was stunned at what I read, my insides shifted a bit.

Nonetheless, from the Book of Job.

When I read the these words, I knew "SAM" was there, not washed away by rain or wind.  Now, I just had to find it.  When David awoke I sat him down, showed him the devotional, he had the same reaction I did, kind of a quiver.  When you get to the "carved in the rock forever", it hits a high note. Back to my close companions, my spiritual support, I got similar reactions, jaw-drops, goose-bumps and eye-ball popping.  I printed the devotional, folded it and kept it with me. Expanding my consulting circle, the confirmation continued.  Reactions remained the same. My last stop, my pastor.  I ask him if it is wrong to return to Sedona, he assured me that returning was not a mistake. In fact, there is a special spot,  that he returns to often. Green light, I feel good about returning now. It has been approved. Then I show him the paper; he lowered his head and gently nods.   

As my departure date approaches, I notice myself retreating.  I don't have a desire to discuss whether I can, or if I will, find "SAM" again. I am learning, that my preference doesn't matter; the discussion won't change the outcome (but, I have that piece of paper tucked in my purse - I ask myself, is that really what that means?") I know it is but, I continue to doubt.  I think back on something my friend shared with me a while back, obviously in reference to yet another God-wink:

"I do believe....help my unbelief!"

As my plane lifts to the sky, I begin to pray, "God, if it is not your will that I climb that rock, stop me!"  I silently chuckle, thinking about how my travel companion will react if I have to inform her, I am not doing the hike after we traveled such a distance to get there. But, I was fully prepared to do so. I wondered if she would understand.  My prayer continued that I would have peace, with whatever the outcome (but, I had that piece of paper tucked into my purse.) It is a discipline to leave yourself wide-open, embarking on a trip with no preconceived outcomes.  It is definitely not something I've done often.  Maybe, I'm beginning to learn the art of living in just "this" moment. Rather than always thinking ahead, making a plan, filling in the blank spots. 

We land in Phoenix, drive to Sedona and park at Cathedral Trail.  Kim and I speak to a group of hikers at the bottom of the trail.  We exchange stories, I explain to them the reason for such a late afternoon hike and the importance of completing it before dusk.  They understand my urgency, one lady in particular steps forward, with tears in her eyes and hugs me.  She confesses that her husband has just recently gone to heaven, and this day was his birthday.  I note to myself, there are handfuls of hikers on Cathedral Trail that have lost loved ones?  We start our ascent.  This time the mission is more manageable.  Nearing the top, I slow the pace down, yearning to just look (while hiking all I can do is look at my feet!) and needing to get my bearings.  I glance over my right shoulder, noticing an alcove. Stepping in that direction, I raise my hand to indicate the similarity of what I see, to what I remembered.  We move closer, Kim ahead of me, we tip our heads up and see SAM!!! We rejoice, hug, cry and "take pictures!" A fellow hiker notices our jubilation, with interest he comments, "You must be having a Sedona moment?" I beckon him and tell him, "Yes, come here, I will tell you!" I tell him everything, he tears up. Together we continue to the top, all the while talking.  We learn his name, it is Paul.  He asks me mine, I say "Elizabeth." He (Paul) tell us, that his sister was named Elizabeth; she passed away 9 years ago from a grand mal seizure and that she loved children.(Yet, another that has lost a loved one.) He shares the same birthday as David. Paul shared with us a beautiful metaphor, stating that some lives are meant to be like stars, shining bright and lasting years, other lives are meant to be comets, shorter life but blazing across the sky. Samantha's life was short and she blazed!!!! Paul hikes/runs this particular trail 2x daily, 4x a week.  When he reaches the summit he, "Thanks the Lord for the strength of my father in the rocks, the gentle caress of my mother in the breeze and the warmth of my sister in the sun."   Paul was balding and had blue eyes. With the help of Paul, I was courageous enough to go between the gaps and go to the ledge. Crazy coincidences!  Really? I'm resting in sweet assuredness. It was "right" to return to Sedona. 

Having the "picture" in my possession, I was so peaceful.  

                  

As I look backwards, I see once again, it was not my handy work that I visited Sedona, only that of God's.  Initially, David booked flights into Phoenix Sky Harbor Airport with the notion I would visit Scottsdale, after the flights were booked, I discovered Sedona and was led there and because of an unrelenting gentle voice,  led to return again.  The old Elizabeth, the practical one, the all earthly one would never have returned, for reasons like expense, practicality (travel twice in three weeks - with nothing guaranteed) and my to-do list.  Not anymore, I'm learning the beauty of an uncluttered life, (partly my doing, partly because like it or not the demands on my life have lessened), a simplier life, one which allows time for me to be still and listen to what is inside of me, find and follow that sweet, small voice.  I know what that small voice is and I know the Bible talks about that voice, so I searched and found:

Today I will hear His voice ..... and harden not my heart. 

Psalms 95:7,8  

 Because I listen to and obey God's voice, He will be my God and I will be one of His people.

Jeremiah 7:23

I hear my Father's voice and the voice of a stranger I will not follow.

John 10:5

I am one of God's sheep and His sheep hear His voice.

John 10:27

Listening and following that voice led me high atop those red rocks, two times.  The reward, a special place, holy ground.  A place, I can be near to God and to Sam; a place where nothing physical stands between us.  A place of solitude and strength, peace and possibility, warmth and wonder, rest and reassurance. A place where His words for me and mine, are engraved in the rock forever!

Did you take a picture?

I was not going on a spiritual journey, I was not going on a pilgrimage.  All I wanted to do was leave town during the Mardi Gras holidays.  Normally, I can hang, not this year!  David would be out of town and the thought of living through Mardi Gras with a 16 year old, without David's support made me want to run.  So, I did!  Brooke is an awesome, wonderful girl, gratefully though, she is human and a teenager!  My answer was to entice Brooke with a trip to Sedona, AZ; hiking, horseback riding, biking and the real clincher, how I really hooked her, was a trip to the spa. New experiences, new memories.  She said yes, I booked the flight, made the hotel reservations and loosely planned some activities.  There was anxiety on my part, I haven't traveled solo in a long time.  In my former years, working as a retail buyer, I was an experienced traveler.  Motherhood came and I tended to stay put, only traveling as a family, with the security of David, taking the reigns.  I pondered all the responsibilities I would have, taking shuttles, navigating an airport, renting a car, checking in for flight, driving north 2 hours on unfamiliar roads, etc., checking in hotel and alongside that being a "happy" mom and a "sad" mom.  The desire to escape outweighed the anxiety.  I knew I was independent in more youthful years, I needed to test myself, reclaim this part of myself;  I was going.

On the eve of my departure, I get one of "those" phone calls.  My dad has had a seizure, he is being taken to the hospital.  Anxiety on the rise.  David is gone, I'm packing and guiding Brooke on preparing for our trip (each of us choosing to carry one of Samantha's school backpacks with us, each one monogrammed with her name; she is with us), weather conditions are becoming an issue, and my dad has another seizure, this time, his heart stopping for 17 seconds.  Watching this physical spasm was a jolting experience for Erich and Paul, my brothers.  Reassuringly, my family encourages me to continue with my plans.  Everything is under control. So I do, knowing that if a life-threatening situation evolves, I will return.  However, he spent a few days in ICU, a pacemaker was installed and a boot in place for his broken ankle.  He is resting, recuperating and comfortable at home.          

Researching Sedona, I discovered that it has a world-wide reputation as a spiritual mecca. Mother Nature's red-rock temples are destined to provide life-transforming, soul-nourishing work in person. It is stated that," Sedona is a perfect place for spiritual and personal enrichment of the body and the soul. A strong Native American influence, endless, majestic skies and breathtaking views define this global power spot. In addition, there are vortexes. What are these Sedona vortexes? Vortex sites are enhanced energy locations that facilitate prayer, meditation, mind/body healing, and exploring your relationship with your soul and the Divine. This is where I needed to be, I joked that I was going to stand in the middle of one of these "things", hands lifted high and just let those positive energies swirl and engulf me. In earnest, I had no idea what to look for and if, I would ever find one. David and Brooke thought I was nuts.

Submarine Rock 

Due to weather challenges, we miss our connecting flight to Phoenix and got put on standby with 33 fellow passengers. I'm feeling bumped around a bit, nicked up a bit, put to the challenge but, I'm handling it.  I talk to God constantly, I tell myself, one thing at a time, don't look ahead, just take care of this moment.  We board our flight, land in Sedona, rent our car, make the 2 hour drive through unexpected curvy, hilly, rocky, winding landscape. Our afternoon is spent exploring Sedona, a great dinner and early to bed.  Our first full day is spent on a thrilling, bumpy, jolting Pink Jeep tour on the Broken Arrow trail.  While touring, we enjoyed the splendor of Sedona's landscape and an introduction to the famous Red Rock formations. 

Brooke and Casanova

Horseback riding was on the agenda for the afternoon, Brooke and I met up with Sue and Bill, our wranglers.  Bill, led us on a rocky trail ride with our animal companions, Casanova and Stitch.  This proved to be one of the highlights for Brooke. She enjoyed the ride and the opportunity to gallop with Casanova.  Chatting with Bill, we learned he believes in the Big Book and his brother is a Baptist preacher.  It was just the 3 of us, Bill, Brooke and myself, or 5 if you count Casanova and Stitch on the rocky trails passing the national monument of the cliff dwelling, Montezuma's Castle. The sky is so vast and open in Sedona, as well, the air quiet and tranquil.  It is a perfect stage for meditation, or sweet conversation.  There just aren't many distractions to contend with.  So, we trotted in harmony for our ride and were appreciative for the experience at the end of the trail.

Brooke hiking up Cathedral Trail

Liz at a good moment

The following day we were to "hike." We were ready, having visited a local store, The Hike House and participated in their free, interactive service.  You provide them with your experience level, duration preference and what you would like to see and they suggest trails for you.  We met Mary, my words to her were, "We have never done this before. Brooke is athletic, I'm not a pansy but...." We proceed to explore trails, we bought water, snacks and headed to the suggested spot, Cathedral Trail.  I liked the sound of that.  We park our car and greet the people who park next to us, two couples.  Brooke is full of zeal, heading for the trail, I follow.  In the beginning it is serene, Brooke comments to me, " Wow, that is the same sun that shines at our house!" It wasn't just a passing comment, I knew she was getting "it." It is so amazing when you really think about it - the same sun in Mandeville that dominates and owns the sky in Sedona.  We continue and encounter the start of a very steep section.  I struggle and Brooke films me.  She is having a ball, laughing at my inability.  The couples from the parking lot must be watching, and come to my rescue. Our groups merge and one man, in particular, helps me.  He suggests I put away my camera and he states; "We are going to the top, Elizabeth, you are going to climb to the top of this mountain, and I am going to help you. After you make it up there, you will be amazed. This climb is so worth it!" He does help me, he holds my hand, he lets me hold his arm, he encourages me, he continues to call my name and instructs me that we are going to the top. He is humble, confident and persistent.  I wanted to say no, but I couldn't. I knew I had to do it! Even with his steadfast support, the climb is challenging for me (it's not a hike, this was like mountain climbing to this city slicker, southern girl.) Fear winning me over, the scales get tipped and I cry.  I don't know why but, I did what I didn't want to do!!! I say out loud, "I'm sorry, I just need a minute, I lost my daughter not too long ago, this is just hard for me!"  One of the woman draws near to me, comforts me and explains that they are here on their own spiritual journey.  I squint my eyes and shake my head -  I say to myself - "NO, I didn't come here for that, I don't want to hear that!" - I want this to be about Brooke, about fun, and life.  She continues speaking, telling me her brother died last year, the gentleman that was sooo kind to me, was her brother's best friend, they were there together, spreading the brother's ashes over Sedona. We both cry, gather ourselves and continue upwards.  I am physically tired, breathless and emotional.  The altitude and lack of activity over the last few months is becoming an issue. Hallelujah, we make it to the top!!! It is breathtaking, majestic, open and vast. It was worth the climb! I sit to rest, the others, including Brooke explore between the gaps of Cathedral Rock. I can't even watch them.  We are high up, there are no barricades and no railings. My helper, ventures to the ultimate ledge, he invites me, I decline. He assures me, "the ledge is larger than it appears." NO WAY, I am not going!" I watch him as he sits still, in quiet meditation or prayer.  The brother's sister and her husband return and sit with me, we share more details of each others' story, we cry again and agree that there are no coincidences. The best friend's wife, nonchalantly mentions, that we are in a masculine vortex.  Oh wow, I'm in one, at one and didn't even know it! The next whammy, they tell me they are visiting New Orleans, in March.  I couldn't believe it!! Just too much!!   Spiritual journey, death, ashes, tears, fear, coincidences, faith, exhilaration, accomplishment, New Orleans, I'm about to short circuit!

My friend sits at the very peak of the ledge in silence.

I'm instructed, by my unexpected, personal guide to stand and walk around, so as to make the descent easier.  I do as instructed and we head down.  It is not easy, I go down on my rear-end, their instruction to me when I ask How?, is, " Anyway you can!" They build a human wall for me in a few spots to brace my slide, if necessary (it never was, thank goodness). At one point heading down, we stop, I can't remember why, more than likely because I needed a break.  At this moment, Brooke shrieks, "Mom, Mom, look what is written on that wall!, she demands, "Look at It!!!!"  So, I look, what do you think i saw? Written there on the rocky wall, "SAM" with a happy face drawn next to it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I lowered myself to the ground, I covered my eyes, and I wept, Brooke cried, we all cried, everyone there knew it was special and a gift, given to Brooke; me and the others were privilege guests at her party!!!  

After we all recovered enough, to reach the bottom, we hugged and I gave them my email address and phone numbers along with pleaded hope, that they would call me upon their arrival in New Orleans.  I know no one's name, nor where they live!!  I took no picture!! While eating lunch that afternoon, Brooke says to me, " Mom, I think that man was Jesus. He kept calling your name and telling you, you were going to the top of that mountain and that he would help. He told you when you got to the top it would be worth it!"  I was blown away - I wasn't thinking like that - geez, I was still trying to catch my breath, steady myself from the writing on the wall.  Enough is enough!!!  I don't know what exactly happened, Jesus, I don't know, maybe an angel, maybe just a great guy with great friends.  It is so much to process! Whatever it all was, it was special to Brooke, I could tell by the tone of her voice and her reactions.

What I do know, is that I am returning to Sedona, next weekend.  Accompanied by a dear friend, I will scour that mountainside and try to find that spot, take a picture and bring that healing home to share with others.  I believe God spoke to Brooke and me through the writing on that rock - SAM with a smiley face (it was not a typical smiley face with a circle around it - it was drawn with two slashes for eyes and a simple grin). I believe He wants me to know that Sam is happy!!  I believe He keeps his promises to never forsake us. I believe He walks with us, holding our right hand. Alas, if it is not there, having been washed away by wind or rain (it could possible have been written with rock on rock or permanently carved, I didn't think to inspect ) I will just do as suggested to me, by my friends at The Hike House.  I have corresponded with them several times, telling them my story and asking that, any person hiking that trail, to please look for my message. They assured me they would help in anyway, but don't want me discouraged if it is not there.  Debra writes to me:

Good morning Elizabeth!

So sorry I have been errant in returning your email. The store has been super busy! I shared with Mary your story. I have not heard back from anyone that they have seen the name "Sam" on the rocks of Cathedral however. It may have been your special sign from God meant for you. Some things aren't always meant to be concrete but more soul touching which clearly your journey to Cathedral rock was for you and your daughter. I wish you peace and we'll keep looking :-)

God bless

Deb

Cathedral Trail was a difficult climb for me, no one else struggled, just me. Confidently, I know why it was chosen for me to hike.  Hopefully, my new friends won't visit while I'm back in Sedona!! As well, we enjoyed the spa, the morning of our departure.

For I am the Lord, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you.

Isaiah 41:13

  

Getting to Know Granny

As this unwanted journey continues, I have gained and garnered strength, allowing me to visit with others. It isn't easy, there is still an unnerving sensation that sits within me while in public. Gratefully, I have found a few safe places. But, even there, things just aren't the same.  To some extent, I am who I use to be , but not really.  The person you see in the grocery store might look the same, but she isn't the same. As I sit with old friends at dinner and the normal conversations ensue, I struggle to engage in simple chit chat. My life fast forwarded years, within a split second.  She, I have had a profound change in my life, a sharp turn to the right, no warning, no reasons, no explanations, no good-byes.   As well, I have experienced something divine that has the weight to overshadow the pain that exists, at times.  Having had this experience there is a genuine sense of peace that reigns within me concerning where Sam is, I know she is in "Her Father's House!" I just need to get acquainted with and accept living without her, not caring for her and accepting that she will not physically be a part of our family.  That, she will never again be in a photograph.  I have the last one taken!

So, on a strengthened day, I visit.  One on one, in the beginning, taking baby steps, gradually finding enough confidence in myself, to recently, share with a bible study group.  My dear friend, Erin urges me, beckons me, sweetly and strongly suggests (imagine her being like that!) that every opportunity I receive, that I should share our story.  I'm beginning to feel that call.  What I find, is when I tell our story, emotionally and spiritually, I am strengthened.  Speaking it out loud, aligns my heart with my head.  I feel His peace, His presence and His promise of eternal life.

One question that I am often asked is, "Where does your faith come from?'  I already know where "it" comes from, it comes from "Granny."  A pending project, required me to rifle through "the girls" boxes of "stuff."  These tupperware bins are placed in my bedroom closet.  A box labeled for each child, filled with memories including, photographs, baby books, favorite preschool projects, school report cards. newspaper clippings, artwork, interesting school reports, homemade gifts, and my favorite, early sentence writing.  My children's life, represented on paper is contained in these boxes.  When finished, I returned Brooke's box to my closet for future filling, with regret, I placed Sam's in a spare bedroom, knowing I wouldn't be adding to it.  Strewn among their work, was a few of "Granny's" letters.  What a remarkable woman she was.  Entering heaven at 102 years of age, each day faithfully serving her God.  I loved this lady. Upon her death, she donated her brain to The University of Georgia in Athens, having participated in an age study there.  She was blessed with such clarity of mind and soul. Granny was a letter writer and her  penmanship was impressive as well, her attention to detail, divine.  My favorite part of each letter that I received or read was the last paragraph.  As I read, I anticipated this particular section, I knew I would be receiving my own personal benediction.  On Dec. 22, 1978 she writes,

Another letter ended with:

I can't help but to be reminded of the t-shirt Samantha was wearing her last day on this earth! The shirt bore a cross on the back and written on it was,"Where love is, life is full.  "God is LOVE!" 1 John 4:8.

 On another occasion, Granny writes to my father, concerning the death and resurrection of my mother.  She comments on her letter ministry, which my grandmother began at 92 years of age, and the words of comfort and consolation that she sends to each member of her church family that has lost a loved one, that year.  She reflects on the human tendency to feel reluctant to be joyful and happy, after death.  She is at her writing best, when she offers her pray for each family, then for my father, in particular. Praying for him to have "a sweet new attitude about death." Praying for his future happiness and dictating to him, that, "It comes through God!"

David's father, Sam (yes, my daughter Sam is named after David's dad) suffered a tragic fall on the stairs of the New Orleans Arena during a New Orleans Hornets game, on the eve of Thanksgiving 2004.  The fall resulted in paralysis from the neck down and a 7 month stay in the hospital from where, he entered heaven.
Each day David visited with his father, our children were young, his father was an hour or more away from our home and he was bed ridden, nonverbal, and paralyzed, yet another tragic accident with life changing consequences.  My Granny had plenty to say concerning David's fathers death and what she wanted to seer upon David's soul.  She writes to David:




                                 

My Sam, was born with a club foot that required surgical correction at the precious, tender age of 6 months.  Granny, steered me and David to depend on God, as our Great Physician. She writes,

For today, this is the last letter I will reference but, it is so powerful.  In this letter she writes to my mother, following a honor bestowed upon my her, Jean Adams Battle, for years of service at her church, Parkway Presbyterian Church, Metairie, LA.  My mother served as the Preschool Director there.  My grandmother is so proud but, my favorite, are her words of duty that she commands of my mother.  Granny writes:

I couldn't resist, the next letter is so ironic to me.  Granny thinks she is nearing death, little did she know of God's plans for her. She continued to bless this world with another 25 years or so of ministry!! Her words are a treat and make me smile, knowing what I know now:

And she writes to me, concerning Brooke:

Following is the prayer she wrote and prayed on my wedding day:

Of course, she wasn't without thoughts for Samantha, upon her birth she sends these words:

Just one of the many birthday cards Samantha received from Granny:

  I often wonder, "What would Granny write to "me", at a time like "this"!?" I believe her words of wisdom and truth would be very similar to what she told my dad and my husband, "Cast your sorrows aside; as Christian we are not to fear death; it is now a time to rejoice !" Oh, I am sure, am absolutely sure she would comfort and console me, but rest assured she would undoubtedly write to strengthen my spirit, to increase my dependence on God and to look to Him for total healing and peace.  She clearly stated, to my father that, "It only comes through God."

I don't know all the answers to the questions, but I do know how to google.  I told myself that it was ok to not know everything before I began this project.  The fear of being perceived as and realizing myself, that I was ignorant, unschooled in the Bible, not knowing something I should have known would have erected a barricade. So, I admitted my ignorance, accepted that I have so much to learn and began researching. A question nagged me, what did the Bible say or did the Bible have a story about passing down faith from generation to generation?   I found, 2 Timothy 1:5 this scripture tells me, as it ought to be, "I have been reminded of your sincere faith, which first lived in your grandmother Lois and in your mother Eunice and, I am persuaded, now lives in you also.  This is the passing of faith from grandmother, to mother, to child. It is the passing of faith from generation to generation to generation.  Reverend Mark Steiger, in his essay, A Treasure of Faith,  in exploring this scripture, reveals how and where faith is passed down.  He states,

Granny, you taught me well! Thank you for writing and sharing the song of your soul with me.  You and mom passed down the faith to the next generation!  You laid the foundation for my very soul!!! Because of you I can begin to mindfully, massage and mold ""my" sweet new attitude about death."

I pray, I can pass this peaceful life-giving baton, as well as you!





    

Half Way

Rescued by Reading

Just as soon as I steady myself with two feet on the ground, with clear thinking and a smooth path, with out warning, one foot gets kicked out from underneath me.  Sometimes, I think that I have covered alot of ground.  I'm, we're, 6 months into this, (that's another entry for another day), this saga has to come to an end soon.  I need to begin to "move" forward, (whatever that really means) Maybe, I will try some new people, creating new memories, in new places.  I decide to take a baby step - wham - I'm sent backwards. This is becoming familiar territory.  I begin, again, the quest to recenter myself, resteady myself and find solid, firm, trustworthy ground. I usually head to the trace.  Trying to think my way through all of this. I walk, I think, I pray, I talk with God, I listen. My mind wanders, I look at this, I look at that, I hear this, I hear that, I think of this, or think of that.  I find myself correcting myself, saying," This stuff is really important, why can't I stay focused and fit this all in. It's ok - this is today's devotional :

On this particular Wednesday morning, as I walk and recover from the latest ban of the storm, I begin to think of all the books that I have read in the past months.  I have read many, many books.  I honestly believe these books, these true personal stories of tragedy and triumph, of hope and encouragement, of profound loss and spiritual renewal, of glimpses into heaven and divine encounters have helped save my very soul!  It is very difficult to relax, but give me a "true" book, I can "settle in."  Often times, I know, I "need" a book, must "have" a book, on hand, especially the nights that David travels.  These days, I can't read a book without a writing utensil.  I underline, I comment, I highlight, I dog-ear, I even write back, on the pages of the books.  (I bought one book on David's Nook - never again - I need the book in my hands, to read and to reread, to keep.) The people in these books have suffered, have hurt, have had loss, tragedy and challenges.  I can relate, I know the walk they are walking! Gee, sometimes their printed words, I have experienced personally!  I could have written them, myself.  For instance, Stephen Curtis Chapman's book, Choosing to See, they recount the tragic event when their son, rolled over and killed their adopted daughter.  This family was grief stricken!!  They love their son, they love their daughter.  Thankfully, they love and know God.  The dedication to their son, in the front cover of this book strikes to the very center of my heart. This book taught me, that I can do "hard."

Kevin Malarkey's book, The Boy that Came Back From Heaven, was remarkable reading.  An automobile accident, resulted in a severe spinal injury for this little guy.  Immediately, his parents experienced God's presence and healing power.  The encounter of the mother and the MediVac flight crewman left me stunned and smiling.  As well, he saw the angels, 3 around his head/neck area and another working on his heart.  Months later, a stranger sent them this same image in a drawing. I was in awe of God's presence as I read this story.  I learned by reading, Mitch Albom's, Have a Little Faith,  that it was time for me to put, my faith into action.  It was time to "live it", not just proclaim, to "believe it." In the story,  Mr. Albom spends countless hours with his childhood rabbi, gathering and recording his life experiences, in preparation to deliver his eulogy, at the proper time.  Mitch learns that the rabbi spent his entire life teaching other people, helping them to grow their faith and their trust in God. After the loss of his 5 year old daughter to an illness, the rabbi, so wise and gentle, sweetly, with a slight touch of humor explains to Mr. Albom, "I guess it was time for me to drink a little of my own elixir." I "walked" with a really good friend of mine through a divorce, I think I steered her to embrace a loving spirit. When I think of that, it makes me feel a little like this, time for me to drink my own, "elixir." The Color of Rain by Michael and Gina Spehn, a beautiful story about two couples, each losing a loved spouse and the divine merging of their wounded families.  I underlined so many lines, I decided to just dog-ear entire pages because so much was relevant.  Mid-way through the book, a mother dies and there is a description of the "sounds of agony." I know what agony sounds like, I heard it from my brother. I think it describes how Brooke sounded when she broke the surface of the water and began to "count heads" realizing, they were one short.  This scene has been verbalized to me, others have spoken about Brooke's reaction, labeling it as, "an out of body experience." I can only imagine.  There is another section in this book underlined, with stars and exclamation points all around, it describes when the husband realizes that his wife has entered the gates of Heaven. He says, " There wasn't a theologian alive who could have taught me what I learned that day.  It had nothing to do with religion and everything to do with faith.  My God was real and he was alive in my life.  I had looked for him in my entire life.  I looked for Him in prayer and penance, in cathedrals and crashing surf, in baptisms and the Bible itself.  Who would have thought that now, in my most grief-stricken moment, I would finally find him, right where he said he would always be. At my side."  I have experienced Him at my side, at my most grief-stricken moment.

 The Gift of the Red Bird by Paula D'Arcy was so inspiring.  This women suffered the loss of a child and husband, while newly pregnant.  If she can lose 2, survive and let her light shine, then I can lose 1, survive and try to let my light shine.  Recently, I finished, As Good As She Imagined by Roxanna Green.  This is the redeeming story of "The Angel of Tucson, Christina -Taylor Green", killed by a stray bullet, thought to be intended for Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords. How do you find peace among those circumstances?  She did, her family did.  The books are many: 90 Minutes in Heaven by Don Piper, Heaven is for Real by Todd Burpo, (I read this two weeks before Sam's accident),  One Call Away by Brenda Warner, Left to Tell by Immaculee Llibagiza, When Your World Falls Apart by David Jeremiah, Thunder Dog  by Michael Hingson, Kisses from Katie by Katie Davis,  A Message from God by Retha and Aldo McPherson, Quiet Strength by Tony Dungy, My Dream of Heaven by Rebecca Ruter Springer, The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran. Akaine, Her life, Her art, Her poetry caused such a stirring inside of me that I have purchased and given away 4 copies in a week. This child was born to atheist parents.  She painted the picture that Todd Burpo in Heaven's For Real, identified as Jesus. Each book, in it's own way, has helped me to begin to pick up the pieces of my shattered heart.

A thought nags me, I think it would be a great idea to compile these stories into a "New" Old Testament. That isn't the right name for the book but, what I wish people knew, is that these are true stories, in current times, where God is present, real and at work.  We need to learn about Job, Jonah and Jezebul but, I wish everyone knew about Akiane, Aldo, and Immaculee.  These stories have brought validation to my suffering and hope for my healing.

"Teach these new disciples to obey all the commands I have given you. And be sure of this: I am with you always, even to the end of the age."

Matthew 28:20

Anger - Constructive and Destructive

As good a day as Thursday was, it was that bad of a morning on Sunday.  I got mad!!  I got really mad!! I guess I'm experiencing a new stage of grief.  Yuck!

Faith 2011

I began to stew on Saturday evening.  David left early for the Saint's game.  Brooke spent the evening at a ball. Did either of them think about the puppy?!?!?!? Dave left at 2:00 pm and Brooke left at 4:00 pm.  If it weren't for me, the puppy would have been kenneled an inhumane amount of hours.  But, they knew I would be here - as always, to care for the homefront!  My stewing began to brim to the top and overflow.  I declared, I wasn't going to church, that I was taking a walk instead. (I was tired of doing what I was suppose to do!)   David knew!  I left, I headed for the trace, I walked, and cried and raged for 3 miles. I ranted to myself that I did everything I was suppose to do for Sam, made the sacrifices and now - I don't have her, I refuse to do that for the dog! On top of that, I didn't ask for any of this - I didn't do anything wrong to deserve this.  What the heck just happened to me?!?!?  I don't want my life to look like this! I was outdone! I berated myself for "taking" it all and especially for taking on the dog.  I'm not being the sole carer for this dog. As I walked, I began to separate my thoughts. I figured out that I wasn't at all angry that David and Brooke can enjoy  themselves.  Thank God, they can! Can you imagined if there was no blessed relief for any of us. To look at a picture with Brooke smiling and dancing brings great joy! The same with David.  I really like the dog, and am grateful for the funny antics of a puppy.  I love my church and I love going to church.

The root of my anger was that "I" can't "live" like they can!!  I can't go to a party, a football game, in a crowd and truly invest myself.  I don't want to be in a crowd, it is too noisy and my surroundings are too unexpected.  To try to participate in a rapid conversation, with several people causes my head/brain to feel squished, to tighten. I am better one-on-one, right now.   I can't compartmentalize this - I own it all the time.  Pushing against all of that, is my grasping for healing, I want to heal, I want to get better, I want to live! So, on my walk, I convinced myself that I needed to ignite and propel, my own healing.  In order for me to get where they are or can be, just sometimes,  I needed to "do" something to make myself better. I screamed at myself on the inside, that I needed to take the next step, to force it and in my moment of insanity, I decided that "the" next step was to clean out Sam's room.  I needed to just clean out her room, take down her bed, take her bulletin board down, along with the childhood mementos and give her stuff away. I marched home, slamming my feet to the ground, I was enraged. I flew through the door, thinking Dave and Brooke had left for church.  My plan was just to lock myself in her room and "just do it!"  I grabbed a garbage bag, started with the top drawer and went at it, shoving, and stuffing her dancewear into a garbage bag.  It was ugly!

David heard me and Brooke made a stop at home before church.  A bad scene indeed!  They entered the war zone with eyes wide, hearts racing and pleading voices to stop. I was in a battle for my life - doing "this" to move on and not wanting to have to do it!!  My stuffing slowed but, didn't stop as I began to reminisce about each garment.  They were in the room and I couldn't help but to speak to Brooke and David about each item - the memories attached to each one.  I bought each piece of clothing, other than the hand - me - downs (I know who they came from) and the ones received as gifts. I know it all. As I began to verbalize, the rage melted into deep sadness as I continued to touch her things.  Dave and Brooke convinced me to stop - I did.  I closed the drawer. In Sam's room, we sat and talked, they explained there ability to enjoy parts of life, constantly holding Sam close, sometimes fighting off the sadness, other time crying in solitude.   They told me not to compare myself to them and that I didn't "have" to "do" anything. Explaining, that I was Sam's "mom."  They assured me, that waking up, embracing the day and pleasant, sweet, living was all that they and me needed right now. A steady ship. The remainder of our day was spent just being together in peace. I was physically, mentally, emotionally spent.

I've recounted this round of events to several.  I have gained quite of bit of knowledge from this experience.  One of the most useful, having to do with constructive anger (righteous anger) vs. destructive anger. In the eyes of professionals, the anger on the trace was great - it was empowering - it was self preserving but, I gave way to destruction when I crossed the threshold in Sam's room.  Peace should prevail when I figure out what to do with Sam's things.   The girls, cousins included,  have always used each others clothing and accessories - just the other day Brooke used a pair of Sam's Christmas socks for school and a homemade, purple, Halloween cape for a spirit day.  I need to wait until I can do this with peace and with permission from Brooke and David.  We all need to be ready.

I guess this is one of those moments that I have feared.  Where negative eclipses good, where God's light didn't prevail , where I got angry and lost it.  I feared it would happen and it did.  In those few hours, the walk, the war zone and the recovery there wasn't much light.  I wrote about this possibility in my very first entry.  As always, a few days later I can see the beauty -one of those nuggets is that it brought Brooke to a new place within herself. (Compassion in Action) - She spent Monday searching for healing for me - she found and sent me this beautiful, perfect, comforting poem, that contains a reference to a "twinkling star" and a "brief, yet brilliant time spent together."   

From: brooke vinturella

Subject: read! its perfect. carry it with you all the time, it was meant for you mom

Date: January 9, 2012 4:40:23 PM CST

To: Elizabeth Vinturella, David Vinturella

When you wonder the meaning of life and love
Know that I am with you
Close your eyes and feel me kissing you in the gentle breeze across your cheek
When you begin to doubt that you shall never see me again
Quiet your mind and hear me
I am in the whisper of the heavens
Speaking of your love.
When you lose your identity
when you question who you are, where you are going;
Open your heart and see me.
I am the twinkle in the stars, smiling down upon you.
Lighting the path for your journey.
When you awaken each morning, not remembering your dreams,but feeling content and serene,
Know that I was with you, filling your night with thoughts of me.
When you linger in the remnant pain, wholeness seeming so unfamiliar, think of me.
Know that I am with you, touching you through the shared tears of a gentle friend easing the pain.
As the sunrise illuminates the desert sky; as that breathtaking brilliance awakens your spirit, think of our time together-all to brief but ever brilliant.
When you were certain of us together, when you were certain of your destiny, know that God created that moment in time just for us.
I am with you

My family is precious to me, I wish they didn't have to witness that but, I'm not going to beat myself up about this.  I know anger is a part of grief.  Just like everybody else that has experienced a loss, I'm moving through the stages - its a good thing. But, on my own, I realize that the emotion of anger doesn't change my Faith, doesn't change my Truth, doesn't change what resides in my heart.  Before this, there was a notion that if I got angry, I, myself, would interpret that action as a distancing from God.  I need Him close, I need Him to survive and prosper, it will be bad if He gets angry back at me! ( How silly to think that, Numbers 14:18 tells me, "The LORD is slow to anger, abounding in love and forgiving sin and rebellion.")   I couldn't allow myself to get angry. I didn't want the kids to see that.  It is not the way I want them to heal. I don't want to plant a seed of negativity in their hearts.   I don't feel that way anymore.  Also, there is no controlling it when it surfaces. So, now I need to understand it. I live in this world, anger is one of the appropriate response emotions considering the circumstances.  I have read in "Paths Through Grief" by Helen Jaeger that anger has a legitimate place in our grief and that it takes us to a place of honesty.  Honesty, surprisingly,  it is the springboard to acceptance.  She states, "Our cry against grief, the anger against it, shows that we bear in our souls the divine mark which ultimately longs for blessings and delight , that loss and grief are not the way life was intended to be.  Our cry against grief is actually a cry for well-being.  It is the cry of a healthy heart."  I am glad to hear that!

 "When I am angry, I do not let my wrath (my exasperation, my fury or indignation) last until the sun goes down." 

-Ephesians 4:26

One Day at a Time

She said to me, " Elizabeth, just one day at a time, just today, not tomorrow, not Thanksgiving, not Christmas, just today."  I remember those words like it was yesterday, they were spoken to me sometime in late July, as my friend came for a visit.  She stayed for a while, she ministered to me and spent dear time with Brooke.  This was a time for me that I needed help caring for Brooke, caring for her soul.   To verbalize to my "other" daughter, what I know I am responsible for teaching her in a tragedy, made the situation real.  I needed to guide her about Sam's death and I couldn't. I knew she, we, all of us needed to grab hold the armor of Jesus Christ, to deal with the situation.  With my deepest, innermost being, I needed Brooke to embrace the teachings of Jesus Christ as a lifeline.  It is what I have prepared her for, all those years in Sunday School.  It's what I believe to be true.  I knew what I wanted to do, however,  I was rendered incapable.  Being a mom was was out of reach in the early months. Gratefully and humbly I know that I was wrapped in the loving, caring arms of Jesus Christ, then, now and always.  I had just incredible, constant, unwavering support.  So many times, in the early months, I was counseled to live, just one day at a time. When I could, I did it.  Don't think for a second, that I didn't mess these instructions on occasion.

On a particular day, I was blessed with a visit from another friend.  Anxiety, plagued/gripped me. It felt like a physical wrapping on my body.  It was paralytic, creating a sleepless night and uncontrollable tears.  Prior to this, I was on a good streak, having several descent days.  However, I went downhill fast.  Monday morning, David left for work.  I thank God for his newfound sensitivity, because he turned around and came back home.  Sitting in our den, David asked, " What has gotten a hold of you?  Something has gotten a hold of you! We need to figure it out!"  I sorta knew what it was, fear!!!  We were being faced with the next stage of this tragedy, the legal process.  I felt like I was being hurled into another unknown world, a black abyss, with no knowledge, no experience, no control. My mind was overloaded with thoughts of lawyers, arguments, police reports, and any and all negative scenarios that I could possibly imagine. I mentioned before, that on several occasions, my devotional "Jesus Calling" by Sarah Young had been profound reading for me at times.  Well, this was one of those times.  On this particular day, I read the entry and it was like living water coursing through my body.

That is just one example of how I fail on a daily basis.  I was not living "one day at a time."  I was looking ahead, at a process that hadn't even begun yet.  I was not even being required to do anything! In my fragile, human mind I was imagining the future, actually making it up - sooo, not following the best advice given, "One day at a time."  In addition, I was not envisioning God's presence in a future situation. It is not intentional that I fall out of sync with God, I think it is just human weakness.

On many occasions, in the past, "One day at a time" was a way for me to stay out of the dark.  Instructions for not getting ahead of myself, not letting the future overwhelm me.  So many "firsts" to experience. With the start of a new year, I am thankful that I can recount a conversation I had with myself.  This "self talk" occurred during my morning shower, as I replayed the events of the prior day.  The last day of Brooke's Christmas break, we spent doing "girly" things, had lunch together which included an incredible, open, honest conversation.  This was followed by dinner and a movie with David and other neighbors.  It was a great day, a wonderful day, full of love, laughter, joy and tears,(my heart goes out to David, he was seated between Brooke and I, both in tears during the movie, "We Bought a Zoo"!)  It was a family outing! There were 3 of us, not 4,  (We all felt the pierce of Sam's absence) but, it was still good.  In the shower, I heard myself say to myself, "If I could not include what happened to me about 6 months ago and not be concerned with the future but, just look at today, it was good, it was a good day!"  Blessings overflowed! I realized that "One day at a time" previously was for survival but, that I could use it  to recognize and be grateful for sweet blessings of family, love and life, each day.  This is cause for me to pray this prayer texted to me at the start of this new year: