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: