This month marks the first year anniversary since my mother has left us. This year we also found ourselves soul searching again outside of the home church. We left our church of eight years in December 2018. Though the grieving stages of loosing anything and everything is cumbersome, I find that peace settles in when you least expected it.
I have often resort to traveling as a way of dealing with grief or stress. The countless number of times that I’ve been blessed to pickup and go were the times shared among close friends. A handful of those times, I was given the option to travel without my husband and children. Of course, I jump at every opportunity there is–God-given, when the timing is right and finances are set.
I am blessed amongst those with amazing friends that also allows open schedules to fixate a travel with me. These travels don’t necessary pertain to a mental health intervention nor do we soley focus on my reasons for leaving home. Rather the trip allows me to focus on a soul purpose and to come back with a happy heart. I just needed time away.
Many nights I think back to a mother-less life. I begin to close each chapter of the I-wish-you were here moments to I-miss-you Mom moments, and ponder of the many without-yous. I haven’t moved on, but I’m begining to think that I should.
Leaving my church is the second challenging thing right now that is in transition. Pain wasn’t real until the Sundays that passes started to etch an ache in my heart.
My long for a Christ-like church and friends were gone and some of them disconnected. Some relationships will never be restored and this will be my New Kind of Forward. I have decided that change will always happen no matter what the circumstances!
After five-some days out in the Pacific Northwest this week, my souls find longing in fellowship and I want to be made NEW! I am hopeful of God’s restoration.
After the announcement of our resignations from the church board and membership termination, my crowds of friends got smaller. People whom you count as friends casts stones and turn away from you. A battle within your own circle became a place of choosing.
And maybe that is what this year is. A New kind of Forward.
Shortly into the new year, we found a place of worship surrounding ourselves and children with others who share such joy and victorious godly moments. And it has been well.
My travel today ended in rain, sleet, and sunshine. I thought about my grievances of my mother. How I would have love to hear her chant again about life and the glorious shine of the evergreen treens that is lined up to the snow capped mountain tops.
Except this time my tears didn’t fall easily. My heart was contained in pure joy that only if my mother was still here she would understand. Like losing a battle with death in my mother’s case, we suffered a lost with the church. A control only worth surrendering over to the Lord.
Sometimes losing isn’t about feeling hopeless. Losing isn’t about giving up. As a matter of fact, loosing isn’t almost about winning.
My eyes set heavily gazed through the car window towards the gorge of the Columbia River, my eyes slowly in motionless movement came set upon the mountains. I noticed a significant symbol of a bright colored rainbow arch that shimmered and held reflections upon me from the waters.
At the very moment, I, truly was awakened. I couldn’t shake it off, that the fact whether it was mom waving and assuring me through another yet tough chapter without her, or just simply God giving me the OK to go ahead.
(“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)
Minutes later, I found myself settled in sweet peace and quietly drifted to sleep in the backseat of our rental. When I awoke at the next stop, the majestic arch of colors whom I saw clearly moments prior had disappeared.
Thank You God for love and protection. The settings of the NW Pacific couldn’t have been a better time to swift the emotions through.
Mom, the mountains was as beautiful as I imagine Heaven was on Earth. Something tells me, we’re going to be ok from here on out. Just OK.
Feels like a lifetime that you’ve been gone, mom. But it’s coming to a year.
Nothing I’ve done has replaced the memories of you and I. The places I’ve gone to I can’t seem to find you. The mountains how high and the seas how low, there is no one that can explain the pains in our aching hearts. You are so missed more than words. ❤
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let's mangle 