I'm No Longer Who I Was

 It's been 6 months.  It's funny how some phrases will bother me at different times.  Some moments I'm fine with "passed away" or "died" and others it's like hearing it for the first time and it stings.  Jon, Shannon, Me, Ashton, and finally Mom have now all had our first birthdays without Dad.  At Mom's birthday dinner, she was talking about something and said, "After Dad passed away..." and those words hurt like salt in an open wound. I whispered through tears, "Don't say passed away" and Mom replied, "I don't like to say 'died' because he isn't dead, he's just passed away." I thought that was beautiful.  Peter calls us in 1 Peter 2:11 "strangers and aliens." As someone who has been an alien in a foreign country, I like this analogy.  For the Christ-follower, this world is not our home.  My Dad moved home. ❤

As I've mourned the loss of my Dad these past months I've learned quite a bit about grief.  It is not at all what I thought it was.  It is so much more than missing someone, or hurting, or anger, or disbelief.  I've heard it described as a process, something you work through.  But at this point, it seems more like a transformation.  My Dad is a part of me.  Not only in relationship but also physically.  I have his eyes, his sausage fingers, his DNA.  When he abruptly left a piece of me left with him.  Yes, I still have his physical features, but I'm no longer who I was.  Those who have walked this hard road before me try to explain by describing it as "a new normal." And I guess that really is the best way to phrase it. I'm sure there are parts of my personality or aspects of my character that look different right now.  There have certainly been times that I've not recognized my own self. And I know that will continue to change as I work to find my new normal.  

One way Dad and I were similar is that we both care deeply about being understood.  I didn't have this realization until a couple years ago.  I have long thought that my "need" to argue a point was because I wanted to be right and I just couldn't let it go.  However, after some self-reflection, I came to the conclusion that it was less about being right and more about the other person understanding why I believed what I believed.  I can concede that my thought about the topic at hand was wrong, but I still need to make sure that what I thought was logical, even if it wasn't true.  Dad was like this.  I wish I had realized it sooner.  It probably would have made our work environment more peaceful for those around us.

Just like I had the realization about needing to be understood, there are still realizations that I have yet to come to.  I know at times I'm prickly. Other times I'm withdrawn or secluded. And sometimes it is as if nothing has changed.  I have tried to work through things myself, I have leaned really hard on those that love me most and I have sat down with professionals to learn new skills and tools to help me and all of those have been beneficial.  I have made unhealthy and super selfish choices as well and I am so comforted by the truth that the Lord remembers that we are from dust.  His gentleness is so very evident and I'm grateful. My Dad's death has been a catalyst for change in my life.  It's not easy, it's not pretty, it's not fast. But, it is worth it, it is refining, it is sanctifying.  

Psalm 23 describes the "valley of the shadow of death" and I've always thought of that place as somewhere I would walk when my time comes, but I am definitely walking through that valley now after my Dad's death, and the promise that "for you are with me, your rod and your staff, they comfort me" have been like a healing balm to my shattered heart. ❤

A Known Sheep

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about sheep. I've felt like one of the lost sheep that Jesus teaches about in the parable of The Lost Sheep.  

Jesus is telling a group of Pharisees (religious leaders in biblical times) that if one of them had a flock of 100 sheep and one wandered off and got lost he would leave the 99 sheep in open country and go after the lost sheep until he found it.  Then he would joyfully pick it up, bring it home and call his friends together to rejoice with him. He finishes the parable with a clearer explanation of His point, "I tell you that in the same way, there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent."  When we "get lost" or sin, the Shepherd searches for us, and when we repent of our sin there is rejoicing and a welcome back into the fold. 

However, after a deeper dive into this parable, I realized it wasn't one of the lost sheep that I related to so I kept searching the Word for more lessons about sheep.  In John 10 Jesus again speaking to Pharisees teaches about how He himself is the Good Shepherd and that His sheep know and follow His voice.  The shepherd comes to the pen through the gate, but the thief doesn't use the gate and he only comes to steal, kill and destroy.  Jesus also talks about the hired hand and how if there are sheep in a pasture and a wolf comes, the hired hand will abandon the sheep because they don't belong to him.  While these are excellent teachings about how Jesus cares for His own, they still didn't quite resonate with my spirit.  

I continued my search and found an occasion when a group of Jews asked Jesus, "If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly."  Jesus responds to them by saying, "I did tell you, but you do not believe.  The works I do in my Father's name testify about me, but you do not believe because you are not my sheep."  Seems a bit harsh, but I appreciate Jesus' clarity.  He doesn't tell them, it's too late for you, you can never be my sheep, but He shows them the truth about their condition and the barrier to their acceptance of Him, their unbelief.

Finally, in this same conversation, Jesus says the words that hit my heart and overwhelmed me with hope which has been so lacking lately. "My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all; no one can snatch them out of my Father's hand. I and the Father are one." I guess I've felt a little lost lately but not due to my sin like the Lost Sheep. I've said many times that my grief is so unexpected.  I don't recognize myself in it, but the truth that brought me so much hope this morning is that Jesus knows me and that no one can snatch me out of His hand.  The security I thought I had lost when my husband left and again when my Dad died is not gone.  I'm not broken beyond repair.  And although I don't recognize myself in these early stages of grief, my Father does. He knows me; I can't get so lost that He can't find me.  He comes for me; He rescues me every time.

I've needed and longed for this breakthrough.  Thank you for your prayers for me.  God hears them and is responding to them.  Thank you for hoping when I struggled to and thank you for loving me.

I did not highlight or write this in my bible today; apparently, it is a truth I've needed before.

I Didn’t Know

 We buried my Dad today. After the prayers were prayed and the scriptures were read, after the flowers were lovingly placed in the grave and all the banana pudding was eaten and everyone had gone home, I stood with my mom and confessed that I didn’t want to bury Dad. I wanted him to stay  in the power supply box on her dresser. She asked me why I hadn’t said anything sooner and my response was, I didn’t know. 

Since my Dad’s death I keep thinking of all the things I didn’t know. I didn’t know the last time I saw him would be the last time. I didn’t know how painful losing him would be. I didn’t know how to comfort my friends who had lost a parent before I became someone that lost a parent. I didn’t know I could be rude to perfectly nice strangers that ask me how my day is going. I didn’t know burying my Dad would feel so final. I didn’t know my grief would turn me into someone I don’t recognize. 

I’ve always enjoyed the crowds and “working a room.” I can make people laugh. I can sit and listen and offer encouragement and insight and at times even wisdom. In other challenging times in my life I’ve been able to apply the truths that are rooted deep in my heart and find the hope, joy and peace that the Lord promised to those that are in Him. 

The past two weeks have shown me in a new way that the Lord is my strength.  I’ve done hard things before and called out to Him for help. I’ve walked through painful valleys and reminded myself of His faithfulness.  I’ve been broken-hearted and known that I’m being refined or pruned or prepared for a greater purpose. But these past two weeks I’ve had nothing to give. I’ve not been able to preach the truth to my wounded heart. I’ve not wanted to be around people or carry anyone’s burdens. And the Lord has met me here. You see, God knows me. He knows when I need to pull away and sit quietly and He knows when I need to be hugged and encouraged. He knows when it’s hard for me to pray so He reminds others to. He knows all the things I didn’t know. Psalm 139 makes more sense to me now. I’m encouraged by verses such as “O Lord you have searched me and you know me.” Or, “you perceive my thoughts from afar.” And, “you are familiar with all my ways.” When I don’t recognize myself, He knows me. When I struggle to walk in truth instead of emotions, He guides me. When I am unable to love and serve others the way I used to, He cares for them. 

I still have much to learn about faith and God and how to live a life in full surrender to Him. But what a gift it is to know that He knows me and the condition of my heart even when I can’t articulate it.  He carries me and is with me and will remind me of who I am.

Fatherless

I last posted on this blog 7 years ago. So much life has happened from then until now.  I bought and sold a house then bought another. I’ve been called “Auntie Kristin” to a new niece and nephew. I’ve had the honor of discipling 5 women and girls. My marital status has changed back to single. I’ve traveled to 15 States I had never been to. But the most life-altering change has been the sudden passing of my Dad one week ago today. Yesterday, at his funeral, I could not contain my emotions when I walked in and saw that a room that seats 200 was standing room only with people lining the walls, the lobby, and even an overflow room. It was a testament to who my Dad was and how well he loved others. 

My grief has surprised me. It steals my breath and robs my sleep. A song, a thought, a photo can instantly make my strength give way and I’m crumpled on the floor.  It cares not for where I am or what I am doing. It pours hot tears that seem to never end and just as harshly it numbs as if I’m an empty shell. It slows my brain and leaves me in a fog. It is unforgiving and raw. 

Over the past 6 months, Jesus has been teaching me about Himself as the Bridegroom. He asked me to spend 6 months in intentional singleness as He gently and graciously helped me unlearn some views I held about marriage and a husband’s role. He has shown me how He longs to be the only One that comforts my lonely heart. The 6-month period ended 6/12/2023.  My Dad died 6/11/2023. I don’t yet understand the significance of that. But I know God is purposeful. 

This left me feeling completely abandoned. I have been all too aware that my siblings are all married and have someone to hold them as they cry themselves to sleep over the deep loss of Dad. I have wanted to speak truth to my mom and help shoulder her immense pain. But I can’t. I have found it so very difficult to speak of the hope that I have. I know the truth but I have not wanted to hear it. For days I left the room when others would laugh and share memories of Dad. I cringed every time someone told me he was in a better place. It’s true. He is in a much better place. And I’m grateful that as I sat on a hospital room floor and begged God to put life back into my Dad that He gave me the strength to pray for my selfish heart. I once asked my Dad that if he died would he want me to pray for God to raise him back to life. He quickly and decidedly replied, “No.” 

Today is Father’s Day. I thought about the word “orphan.” I’ve always understood this word to mean a child without parents. But in Scripture in the original Hebrew and Greek languages it is better translated as “fatherless.”  My mom is incredible and has loved me and cared for me and sacrificed so much for me. But there is something about a Father. A Father is the gatekeeper of the home. A Father protects his family from the storms. A Father leads his family through challenges and teaches them to stand firm. My Heavenly Father generously gifted me with an incredible earthly father. And while I know there are many days ahead that grief will take over, I can confidently say I am not Fatherless. My Father has given me strength for each day. For every task that has needed to be done, He has enabled me to accomplish it. He has put a little more light in each day and I find rest in the truth that He will continue to sustain me. God’s goodness to make me a daughter of Marc Singletary shows me that He works everything for my good and I can trust Him. 

UnDeserved

For a while now I've been thinking about writing this post, but I wasn't quite sure how to articulate my thoughts.  I'm still not, but I'm ready to give it a shot.

Deserve - to merit, be qualified for, or have a claim to.

This word deserve, I've noticed, is thrown around a lot.  And whenever I hear it, my attention is directed towards the person using the word.  Now let me be the first to say that I am not very careful with my words.  More often than not I am struggling to put them back in than to ponder them before they come out.  But this one word with it's seemingly harmless and even encouraging meaning has left me feeling more conscious about how and if I use it.

"You worked hard, you deserve that promotion."  "you've suffered through old, used cars, you deserve a new one" or how about "you're busy parents, you deserve a night out."  And looking inwardly, "I've lived the apartment life long enough, I deserve a house."

My problem is not with the reward.  Promotions are good, new cars are nice, a night out is necessary. My issue comes with the two words preceding the reward you deserve.  When I try and come up with reasons that I might deserve something I'm left empty.  Because in all sincerity, I, on my own merit, and with my own efforts, can do nothing.

In John chapter 15, Jesus is talking to His disciples about being the vine and them being the branches. He says that God the Father is the gardener and that He will cut off every branch that doesn't produce fruit.  If the passage were to end there, a reader might think that there is a significant responsibility to bear fruit so as to avoid being cut off.  But the verse doesn't end there.  It goes on to say that no branch can bear fruit by itself. Even the thought of it is absurd.  How could a branch laying on the ground, attached to nothing, grow any sort of fruit?  The branch must be attached to the vine.  So Jesus says in verse 5,

"I am the vine; you are the branches.  If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing."

It is because of this teaching that I have such a hard time with the word deserve.  I can do nothing apart from Christ.  And the fact of the matter is, I deserve every wretched thing you can imagine.  Romans 6:23 teaches us that "the wages of sin is death" that is, the penalty for any wrong doing is to die.  I'm pretty sure I sealed my fate at 2 years old. In Mark chapter 10 a man asks Jesus a question and refers to Him as a good teacher.  But before Jesus gives the answer, He makes a point to say, "Why do you call me good?  No one is good -- except God alone."  So even Jesus, a perfect man, asserts that God is the only good one.

So what am I to do?  How can I expect anything less than God's horrible (and I mean horrible, check out Revelation 9) wrath?  The answer is simple and yet life-changing.  It is to remain in the vine.  The second half of Romans 6:23 says, "the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord".  Eternal life meaning never die.  That's huge!  Living forever is certainly not what I deserve, but because God loved this world full of dirty, rotten, sinners, He gave His only Son as a living sacrifice so that anyone that chooses to believe in Him will live forever.

You see, to say anyone deserves anything favorable is false, no one possibly can.  And I hope from now on I will take the time to ponder my words when someone tells me I deserve something with a response similar to this:

For it is God who works in me to will and to act in order to fulfill His good purpose.  Philippians 2:13

My Best Friend's Wedding

Every wedding I have ever been to, I have cried.  The moment the bride walks down the aisle gets me misty, but the real moment the tears flow is during the vows.  I mean, think about it, making promises for life, that is serious.  During my wedding ceremony the officiant pointed out that my husband and I were not entering into a contract that can be broken, but a covenant that is unbreakable.  It is enough to make me more than a little teary.

A few days before I stood as matron of honor to my best friend, Amy, as she was married, I looked back through my wedding photos.  I smiled as I reflected on the day and how startlingly handsome my groom was. I believe I even made the comment, "I want to have another wedding."  The groom would be the same, but I so enjoyed all the things that made our day special that I wanted to relive it again.

As I listened to the pastor during Amy's nuptials, I couldn't help but think about heaven.  I knew there would be rejoicing for their union, but I was more focused on my wedding day.  The day I would be dressed all in white and I would be walking towards the groom that is preparing a place for me.  The excitement of seeing your groom as you walk down the aisle to commit your life to him is inexplicable.  So how can I contain the even more overwhelming feeling of being the bride that has Jesus as her groom.

I committed my life to him a few days shy of 21 years ago and while every moment has not been filled with anticipation of seeing him face to face, it has been the most worthwhile relationship I have ever had.  Just as in earthly marriage, our relationship with Jesus has to be nurtured, there must be constant communication and sacrifice.  Sometimes you have to go against your own wishes in order to submit to what is best for the relationship.

I think that is what Paul was talking about in Ephesians 5.  Marriage is not only love and respect, submitting and leading,  just as your relationship with Christ is not limited to those things.  When I am pleased with my husband, I let him know and I brag about him to others.  When I have been blessed by Jesus, I let him know and I brag about Him to others.  Communication is crucial for my relationship with my husband as well as with Christ.  When I have wronged my husband I ask forgiveness just as I do when I have sinned against God.  When the comparison is made between the relationship between husband and wife and the relationship with Christ and the Church, it encompasses a whole lot more than hierarchy and roles.  What I need from my husband is also what I get from Christ.  What my husband needs from me, I must also give to Christ.

"And we will fly away in the twinkling of an eye
Leaving all our heartaches and telling them all goodbye
Yes we will fly away when He hears His Father say,
'Jesus go and get your bride, today's your wedding day'"

I'm ready!

Gaining Wisdom is Seldom Easy

At 19 years old I was diagnosed with having Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS).  My doctor told me it would be almost impossible for me to get pregnant.  Pregnancy was the last thing on my mind at 19.  I was in my first year of college and excited for my future.  I remember being disappointed at the news, but not really understanding the impact of it.
Fast forward 5 years and I started my Korean adventure.  There are side-effects of my condition that remind me that it is still present in my life, but nothing that would hinder me from living life to the fullest.  Then on June 22, 2012 I met my husband.
I remember telling him after we had gotten serious and were discussing our future together about my PCOS.  His response didn't surprise me and in fact it gave me a sense of hope.  He told me that God will give us what we ask of Him.  I smiled and was relieved that he didn't seem concerned about it, although I have to admit there was doubt.  I have heard my husband say this many times before and I have challenged him on the theology of it as well.  But what he means is simple.  He takes God at His word.  His faith is unwavering and he trusts God to provide for our every need.  He doesn't have trouble presenting his requests to God by prayer and petition and with thanksgiving.  He is obedient to scripture and trusts God's promises.
We were married at the Nigerian Embassy in Seoul, South Korea on March 27, 2013. During our premarital/marital counseling the wife of the couple we were doing our counseling with asked me if I had any female problems.  I revealed to her the diagnosis I had received a decade before and she suggested that they lay their hands on me and pray for me.  When she and my new husband finished praying for me she said to me that I was healed.  I was excited and trusted in the power of prayer and the promises of my God.  I made the decision to not doubt, but to choose to trust God over the doctors.  To put my future in the hands of the great physician.
We celebrated our wedding on November 17, 2013 and I knew that I wanted to immediately try to have a baby. In February I began charting and tracking and detailing the condition of my body.  In January I learned that my youngest sister was pregnant with her second. I thought how fun it would be to be pregnant with my sister.  Then a few weeks later my other younger sister announced she is pregnant with her fourth.  I could hardly contain my excitement at the thought of being pregnant at the same time as both of my sisters.  I daydreamed all about it. Then the time came to take the first pregnancy test.  It was negative.
I knew that it was unlikely that I would get pregnant the first month we started trying, but then the tests were negative in March and April and May.  And then I learned of two other friends that are pregnant.
I started reading blogs and doing research and planning that when the health insurance kicks in I'll go to the doctor.  Then unaware friends ask when we are going to start trying.  And because I know their hearts and intentions I resist the urge to scream, cry, or hash out every detail to them so I reply, when God is ready, I am ready.
My tears became daily and my hope became small.  My husband would remind me that God's timing is perfect.  And there would be moments that God would show me that I need to be thankful for this time in my life.  But the sadness lingers and the uncertainty of the outcome is no small thought.
Despite the pain, I want to learn something through all of this.  I know I am only at the beginning of this process.  I anticipate many more months of negatives and more hardships resulting from my disappointment.  However, I refuse to walk this journey without gaining wisdom.
I am choosing to see every negative test as a blessing.  A negative test means more time with my husband, it means more opportunities to sleep in.  Seeing one line instead of two means I can be free to serve God in ways a mother just can't.  The absence of a pink plus means I can give more of my time, energy, and finances to God.  What a blessing.
So now I have to respond to the call.  I have to dry my tears and take a deep breath.  I have to run to Him the moment the doubt returns.  Because this I know is true, God is better than a baby.  So I will rejoice even if He chooses not to give one to us.  And while I am surrounded by pregnant women, I will choose to serve them, not envy them.  I will wait my turn, and trust my God because hope does not disappoint.