Looking Unto Jesus (Hebrews 12:2)

The other day I read something which excited me because it tied in so well with the things about Christ that I have been learning and writing about. I also read it not long after reading Kirst's post on 'Striving for Perfection' and it seemed to fit nicely with that. Maybe others won't find it exciting, but I just love it when I read and hear things that all tie up and give similar messages, all in a short space of time. I have felt that over this summer God has tied up for me all the things I've heard and read, and confirmed all the things I'm learning are definitely from Him and what He wants me to hear about at the moment.

This extract is from C H Spurgeon's Morning and Evening daily readings (archaic language I'm afraid!):

"It is ever the Holy Spirit's work to turn our eyes away from self to Jesus; but Satan's work is just the opposite of this, for he is constantly trying to make us regard ourselves instead of Christ. He insinuates, 'Your sins are too great for pardon; you have no faith; you do not repent enough; you will never be able to continue to the end; you have not the joy of His children; you have such a wavering hold of Jesus.' All these are thoughts about self, and we shall never find comfort or assurance by looking within. But the Holy Spirit turns our eyes entirely away from self: He tells us that we are nothing, but that 'Christ is all in all'. Remember, therefore, it is not thy hold of Christ that saves thee - it is Christ; it is not thy joy in Christ that saves thee - it is Christ; it is not even faith in Christ, though that be the instrument - it is Christ's blood and merits; therefore, look not so much to thy hand with which thou art grasping Christ, as to Christ; look not to thy hope, but to Jesus, the author and finisher of thy faith. We shall never find hppiness by looking at our prayers, our doings, or our feelings; it is what Jesus is, not what we are, that gives rest to the soul. If we would at once overcome Satan and have peace with God, it must be by 'looking unto Jesus'. Keep thine eyes simply on Him; let His death, His sufferings, His merits, His glories, His intercession, be fresh upon thy mind; when thou wakest in the morning look to Him; when thou liest down at night look to Him. Oh! let not thy hopes or fears come between thee and Jesus; follow hard after Him, and He will never fail thee."

Amen!

Desiring Christ (2)

Following on from earlier, I was thinking about how hard it is to portray Christ as desirable to others around us who don't know him. A girl at camp told me she has no desire for God (which I didn't believe but that's another story!). It was clear that nothing I could say would give her a desire for God. It really needed the Spirit to move in her and point her to the desirableness of Jesus. It was obvious on camp that we couldn't make any of these young people desire Christ in our own strength - we can only pray that God will use our words and open their eyes.

Then today at work, I just didn't know where to start with a colleague. First, she used the name of Christ as a swear word, which she does frequently. This always pierces through me but did even more so after being at camp with a wonderful godly team who really loved Jesus. I didn't say anything (I never do) but it made the hymn come to mind "How Sweet the name of Jesus sounds in a believer's ear" and also the song which says, "Your name is like honey on my lips". Even the name of Jesus should be so precious to a Christian - to hear his name is lovely - except when used as a swear word. I wished I had said something. I always wish I'd said something.

Later on this same colleague was talking about some friends of hers who have gone through a lot of suffering. She was wondering how they could possibly deserve it all, how the world is so cruel, and that's why she doesn't think she could ever have faith in a god - he must be such a cruel god to pick on a family like them. My mind just started to race and fumble around for something to say. This colleague can be scary and I am quite intimidated by her. We've had a few conversations about God, but I've never shared the gospel with her. It's hard to get anywhere with her because she's very strong with her views. I started to mumble something, asking God for some major help(!) when her mobile went and she walked off! Part of me felt like I'd been saved by the bell(!), but at the same time I was disappointed that the opportunity had gone.

I've been thinking about what I would have said if her phone hadn't rung. I think it would have been a really tough conversation. I can see where she was coming from, what made her think that way. When my Dad died I thought it was wonderful to know God and was able to trust in His plan etc etc. But how could I make Christ seem desirable to someone like my colleague, who just thinks if God exists he must be cruel and picks on people? It's making me see even more how much we need God to open people's eyes. There's so much I could have said, but it probably would have wound her up in all honesty. She needs to hear about Jesus and have a desire for him. I think when we witness we need to constantly point people to Christ. I don't know how I could ever make this particular colleague believe in God, and I don't know how I could ever answer all her questions. It IS so hard when it seems one family cops more than the rest of us. So I'd like to be able to just tell her about Christ. I'm not diminishing her questions - I do believe it is important for people to question and explore and I believe that for many people answers to questions is what they require. But no amount of answered questions will ever help them if they don't also have a desire to know Jesus. So I think I might change the way I pray for my colleagues and friends, as well as for myself - that they too would desire Christ, and that somehow, if I am to get in to conversation with some of them, that God will help me to point them to him.

Desiring Christ

I haven't written for a while because it's been a busy summer with one thing and another. I have learnt a great deal spiritually from going to the Keswick Convention and also a youth camp that Dan and I helped on. They were both wonderful and I really have been challenged. I haven't had chance to process and think everything through yet because - as is always the case with me - I have come home and the busy-ness of general life has taken over. Why does it always happen like that?

However, on Sunday I was talking to our pastor's wife and she said something that has really made me think, perhaps more than any of the challenges that I've had over the summer, and may also help me to process those challenges. She was talking about a girl who came to know the Lord last week. This girl had tried to become a Christian many times in the midst of many personal problems. Nothing had ever changed for her and she always knew that she still wasn't a Christian. So my pastor's wife asked her what was different this time, and she replied that this time she just desired Christ.

Just desiring Christ - that's what it's all about. I wondered if I had ever just desired Christ. It made me think that perhaps when I go on these conferences and camps I am challenged and as a result I desire many things - to be a better Christian, to know more, to pray harder, to read my Bible more, to develop more of the fruits of the Spirit - all very good desires and I'll keep desiring them! But...where do I desire Christ in all of this? Do I desire him above all these things? And I thought, that if my focus was on him, and I started to desire him more, then all of these things would naturally begin to follow. I don't know what other people think, but it did challenge me. I think that instead of trying to process the masses of information that I've been fed this summer, I need to just spend some time with Jesus, and read about him in the gospels, and get to know him better. It's the only way of becoming more like him. So I've been challenged by a brand new baby Christian who has seen that Jesus is the most precious thing we should desire above all else!

Nostalgia

Last time I wrote about the summer and the memories it brought back about Dad and how nostalgic it can be. As much as I said I find the winter drags on, I do have some lovely memories of the winter too, and the other night I got a very strong flash of nostalgia concerning Dad and the winter, and it made me cry. I haven't cried about Dad for a while, so this took me by surprise and brought back a lot of pain.

Just before Dan and I were going to go to sleep we were reading from a Christian daily reading book that we do. I felt very tired, and was finding it hard to concentrate anyway, but then there was a reference to a pond covered in ice. In to my mind flashed pictures from my childhood and teenage years of our own little pond in the back garden and how after a very cold night, it would be covered in a huge sheet of ice. As kids, this was always so exciting, especially if it was around Christmas time. So then my mind moved on to Dad, because he always used to lift away the big pane of ice and lay it on the grass (something to do with the fish I think!). And so I began to have strong memories come back of Dad in winter, things that are so small, and happened as a matter of routine from as young as I can remember right up until his last winter. But as Dan was saying to me, it is those routine things which you don't think about because they are so, well...routine(!),...those things that become so precious when the person has gone because they are part of who the person was, and part of the image of them that is etched in your mind.

It's nothing much, just that on a cold, crisp, winter Saturday afternoon he would be out in the garden (as always) and when he came through the door through to the living room, a rush of cold air would come in, and Dad would almost smell cold, if that is possible. Then he would always stand by the fire to warm up, but he stood so close that the smell of cold turned to a smell of burning as his clothes began to get too hot. This is just what he did....always.....just routine, something common to him. But the other night, I could smell those smells and feel the rush of cold air as the door opened and sense the frustration I would often feel when he left the door open! I was experiencing nostalgia once again, and it hurt. Never again will that happen. I wanted to be back in my Mum and Dad's lounge on a winter afternoon, and for this 'normality' to happen once again. I don't know why - it was nothing special, nothing significant. I guess it's those sort of things that you want back when you miss someone so much.

Nostalgia is more than a memory I believe. Nostalgia is when you feel the memory with your senses, when you are completely taken back to a time, and sometimes only for a fleeting moment, you are back in that time, that place, with the smells and the atmosphere and the sounds and the feel of the air. Nostalgia is beautiful because it takes you back to precious moments. But nostalgia hurts, because you cannot hold on to what it brings back – those things are gone.

Glimpses of Heaven

It is so nice to see some summery weather at last. My favourite time of year – hot days, long warm evenings with a hazy sky and the birds singing and flowers everywhere. I think the atmosphere of summer is almost magical. I’m glad I don’t live in a country where it is summer most of the year as then it wouldn’t be so special. I love it when a long winter begins to disappear and signs of new life and growth begin (I heard a great sermon related to this once – except I can’t remember much about it now!!). I often feel quite low in the winter, especially after Christmas has gone. But when warmer weather comes and the nights get longer, I feel my mood lift.

I just love the sunshine. It makes me think about how amazing heaven will be – there will no longer be any need for the sun because the light of Christ will be so bright. Sometimes I have such a dim view of heaven – I think about the things I enjoy now – the sunshine, the sea, waterfalls, mountains, birds, my memories – and I don’t want to lose it all. This shows a very limited view of heaven. Why do I so often feel like I’ll be almost losing wonderful things when I die? Heaven will be full of eternal pleasures, but my faith can often be so weak around this truth. Although, since Dad’s passing away I have thought about heaven a great deal more. I definitely think meditating on what lies ahead is a very worthwhile thing to do. The pleasures we experience now are but just a mere glimpse of heaven. I don’t think I have even begun to understand what it means to be with Christ, face to face, for all eternity.

But the summer – for me it is a glimpse of heaven, however distorted my glimpses of heaven may be. The lifting of the long, dull, cold winter, through to glorious sunshine, warmth and colour is a great picture for me of passing from this life of pain, through to the glorious riches and pleasures of heaven.

Preaching, suffering & comfort

I've been thinking about my church and how I am so glad God led Dan and I there. Although not the perfect church (where is?!) I know I am meant to be there. I just feel like I'm part of a huge family.

The preaching is so inspired. It is not academic or technical, but on the other hand it is so deep. It really satisfies. It teaches deep theology, but speaks right into your heart. I've never gone through a period in my life where week after week I feel like the preaching is speaking right to me and gets my heart racing because it applies to the reality of my life and what I am experiencing now. It makes me smile, makes me feel shame, makes me feel like I want to burst with joy, brings the tears to my eyes, makes me excited as the Bible is unpacked....it is so REAL! I love other styles of preaching too, but this is perfect for me for now (so thanks to God for so gifting my pastor!).

I think that has to be what real preaching is all about...a message that is so inspired by God that it cuts straight to the hearts of the listeners, and then really binds them together. That's what I feel is happening at my church. People are real with each other and I see love displayed everywhere. A couple of weeks ago we went away on a church weekend for fun and relaxation, but also teaching and worship. It was wonderful - I nearly cried when we had to leave! I think this openness and love that is deeply displayed is largely a result of two things - God speaking through the Word as described above, and through suffering among members of the church. And the two are affected and shaped by the each other - that is, the suffering in the church informs the preaching need, and the preaching speaks into the darkness of the suffering.

I have noticed more and more over the year and a bit that we have been there, is that it is a church full of sorrows. We have possibly 40 - 50 people come and I can't think of many who are not carrying great burdens, or who have not gone through hard times recently. There is so much to share in prayer times, and many tears are shed. I may have found the death of Dad hard, but listening to the problems of others I wonder how they cope.

So it's made me think. Paul wrote so much about suffering, especially his own. He admitted he was downcast and needed comforting. And he spoke about the ministry of comfort, "Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God...."(2 Cor 1:3f). I am becoming convinced that the depth of suffering in my church is what has drawn everyone so close together. I am just being challenged around how people often really grow through suffering, and it is also a great opportunity for people to comfort and draw near to one another. I believe that Christians should be open and ready to share with one another, willing to receive the comfort and the prayers that others can offer. I definately welcomed the comfort that people offered to me when Dad died. I get so excited at church to hear preaching which is usually very applicable for those who are suffering, and then to see it worked out among everyone.

I have a lot more thoughts on this, and would also like to write about a sermon series that was preached before my Dad died, but that is all for another time.

Reflections

Wow – February was a long time ago. I realise that means I haven’t written for a long time. Rachel pointed this out to me a few weeks ago and it made me think about why, especially as the blog was a real help in expressing how I felt.

3 months have passed since I last wrote, and I was looking at my last couple of entries and realised I really do feel very different compared to then. And in total it’s been 8 months since Dad died, so time really has passed. As with everything I guess, in some ways it does feel like many months ago, but in other ways it doesn’t. But emotionally I feel like it was some time ago because for the last couple of months I haven’t felt bad at all.

Back in February I felt horrible – so stressed and tense and emotional all the time; a completely different type of grief to the immediate and overwhelming sorrow that was felt at the start. But as horrible as the stress was, both emotionally and physically, I think it was a necessary and helpful stage to go through. I don’t know how precise the well known 5 stages of grief are, but I certainly feel there are definite stages that are necessary to go through in order to move on.

I feel I have gone through 2 major stages, perhaps with smaller stages in between. For the first 3 months I cried a great deal and wanted to talk about Dad all the time. That was a very painful and confusing time, but I am so glad I was able to cry as much as I did and so soon. If people don’t cry straight away, I am convinced they will at some stage, even if years down the line. People may have different opinions to me, but I don’t think we begin to get through grief until we start to cry, until we start to mourn (perhaps Rachel will have some thoughts on this!!). So therefore, I think I was helped so much by having an intense time of grief and tears at the start.

After that time, I just felt irritated, stressed, and sometimes angry. I got a lot of chest pains and ached a lot. My stomach felt knotted and I felt like I was nervous, even though there was nothing to be nervous about. I found it much harder to talk about what had happened, and almost felt embarrassed to cry. I hated this time. Half the time I didn’t even know why I was irritated or what was making me so wound up. But I know it was linked to Dad dying. It always felt like something was wrong, even when my immediate circumstances were fine. However, I’m sure this was another necessary stage for me.

At the end of March I went with my Mum for a long weekend to Barcelona. We had a wonderful time and I think it was a great idea for both of us. I had already begun to feel a lot more relaxed, and the holiday helped. Then came April 9th – the six month mark. It felt quite significant. I couldn’t believe 6 months had passed, but looking back I was amazed at how much I’d learnt over that time and how much the pain had begun to heal. And since then I’ve felt so much better. I don’t feel like I’m ‘grieving’ any more, just like I’m still vulnerable to getting upset, as there are many things that bring the tears to my eyes. I’m a very open person normally, and I have had no problem in talking to anyone who asks about how I’m feeling, or even the details about how Dad died. I would hate for people to feel they can’t mention my Dad anymore, but because I feel a lot better, I prefer to carry around my thoughts inside - I feel far less need to share them.

So perhaps that’s why I haven’t written for a long time. I feel I have worked through my pain and confusion significantly, and although I still have lots of times of sadness, I feel they are almost personal. Many things remind me of Dad, and looking to a number of things in the future makes me sad, but I no longer feel I have to share every thought and emotion. I carry thoughts of my Dad in my heart all the time. I think of him every day and miss him so very much. But there comes a time to move on. By writing my thoughts and feelings all the time, I feel I wouldn’t move on. And I feel like I need to be at this stage in order to help my Mum who is now struggling much more that at first.

I always knew this blog wouldn’t last forever as it was intended to help me with my journey through grief, and to let friends know how I am. I haven’t finished with it just yet – I still think it will help from time to time, and I am not being hasty in thinking that all is ok now – I am nervous about the summer and the memories that it will bring – nostalgia which no doubt will hurt. Plus, I really want to write about what I’ve learnt, and somehow put into writing the blessings that I wanted to write about at the start, but never did. I think this is important, as it is easy to begin to forget God’s goodness when we start to feel ok. But I just wanted to explain why I haven’t written for a long time, and thanks for Rachel for prompting me to write again.

Walking through wet grass!

After my moan of last time I decided I wanted some tips on how to be less stressed and relax more. So I looked on the internet and came across some ideas to help de-stress. They were not every day things or long term things, but I just thought they were nice. There were loads of them, but here are a few that I thought ‘yep – that would be nice right now!’:

Walk barefoot in wet grass – has anyone ever done that?!! I used to on a warm summer night at the house I grew up in, just as it got dark and the grass was beginning to get dewy. So relaxing and invigorating – I wonder why?

Watch the sunset – Always special, especially when the scenery around is beautiful too and it’s nice and warm.

Have a picnic – I really fancy one right now. I’d like to dress up in a pretty dress and go to a field full of long grass and wild flowers and eat salmon sandwiches and cake!!!!

Swim when it’s raining – I’ve done this before in the sea at Cornwall and it’s so refreshing.

Get up early and watch the sunrise – I’ve often wanted to do this, just need to learn to drag myself out of bed one nice summer morning. It would be really nice to go somewhere beautiful and read the Bible as the sun rises. I always think that would be such a great spiritual time.
Go and watch 2 movies in one day and have a pizza and some wine in between the two – Sounds great to me!!!

Trouble is, most of them would only really work in the summer, but imagining some of these things really brings back some lovely memories and I can almost smell the summer! I can particularly imagine the one about walking through wet grass with bare feet. It reminds me of many a summer night where the weather was nice and warm and I’d love to be in Dad’s garden. It smelt so fresh with all the flowers that he grew! And sometimes we’d have the fountain going in the pond and the smells and the sounds in the dusk were all such a wonderful way to relax and be content. I hope this summer we all still feel able to do that and that although it might be sad, it will bring back some wonderful memories for us.

Memories are such funny things – they can give the most wonderful warm feelings inside and bring a smile to the face, while at the same time bringing feelings of pain, especially if they are memories you can never re-live. However, I can cope with crying at memories when they are such wonderful ones. So now I’m just waiting for the summer to roll on!!

Waves of grief

Time is going on and it’s now 4 months since Dad died. In some ways it feels much longer than that – the feeling of normality seems like something from the dim and distant past – but in many ways it seems to have flown by. Conversations about Dad have lessened and people don’t ask about it all so much anymore – life is well and truly going on but I just feel like, ‘Hang on! My Dad has died, surely no one has come to terms with it yet, surely everyone still feels confused and bewildered about it all like me?!?!’.

But I guess people do still feel like I do, and I guess in reality I too am getting on with normal life just as much as anyone else is. But I am learning that grief comes and goes in waves, and as much as there have been times where I feel like I have dealt with the confusion and the other feelings I struggle with, I am fast discovering that I definitely haven’t worked through them.

At the start, I just couldn’t get my head around what had happened – it was a feeling that I can’t begin to explain. I battled and battled with an overwhelming feeling of feeling sorry for Dad, for the fact that he didn’t know what was going to happen to him and for the fact that he suffered pain that last weekend of his life. I would read text messages that he sent a few weeks before he died telling me about things he had enjoyed and my mind would not allow me to stop thinking ‘poor thing, he didn’t know!’ and agonising over it all. My rational thoughts made me think that who would want to know they are going to suffer crushing pain and be rushed to hospital, only to die – I know I wouldn’t want to know – I’d rather live my last few days and enjoy myself without worry of suffering or wondering how those I leave behind would cope. I also kept telling myself that we hardly need to feel sorry for Dad now - he’s in Heaven! What better place could there be?!– Dad would not want us to feel sorry for him. But these rational and true thoughts could not stop me aching with feeling sorry for him.

I think feeling sorry for him was the hardest thing for me the weeks immediately following his death. The pain of losing him was softened by a real sense of peace from God and such assurance of God’s hand in all of this. The pain of knowing I would miss him so much was less hard to bear knowing that I will see Dad again one day in glory. But feeling sorry for him….it was so overwhelming and I thought I was going to go crazy battling through it. It was much of this that physically made my heart ache.

But I did begin to work through it and other battles in my head have come and gone since then – or so I thought. This is where I’m learning that it all comes in waves. I can be so philosophical about it all and feel like I’m handling it. I have felt that I’m moving forward and letting myself work through each stage and each struggle. But these last few weeks have been hard – and the emotions have changed. I’m beginning to feel sorry for Dad again and go over many things that I’ve already gone over and thought I’d put behind me. But this time, instead of the pain these feelings brought before, I’ve felt stressed and irritable – knotted up inside and all the other feelings that come with stress. These feelings take their toll physically and emotionally. I think I preferred the pain at the start. I don’t like feeling wound up at the slightest thing or letting what is normally daily life stress me out. I just want to relax!

I definitely think feeling like this must be part of grief. I have heard that anger is one of the stages of grief. But I have not felt angry about what has happened because I totally believe that this is God’s plan. I have not once doubted that God is working out His perfect plan in all of this. So I wonder if I am experiencing the anger that comes as part of grief, but it’s just directed at other things and showing itself as stress.

It doesn’t help that I can’t stop dreaming about Dad. I think dreams can affect how we feel so much more than we think. I must have at least 3 dreams a week about him. Some I don’t mind – the ones where he is just in the dream, not particularly featuring a great deal but just there with everyone else. They’re quite nice as he is so real that for a time it’s like having him here. Others, though, give a false sense of excitement – I frequently dream that he comes back and says that he hasn’t died but has been away on business. I wake up from these and feel a bit confused, and it gradually dawns on me that it was a dream. But the worst are dreams about him being ill and in pain, about his heart attack. I dream about him talking to us and we know he’s going to die but he doesn’t (which doesn’t help me in feeling sorry for him and that wasn't what happened as we didn't know). I hate those dreams, and they’re awful to wake up from. These dreams have been going on or weeks and weeks and I wonder when they’ll begin to get less frequent. I wouldn’t mind if Dad was in my dreams for the rest of my life, but I just want the horrible ones to stop.

So I guess this is all part of the stages of grief – part of the different ‘waves’. And through it all God continues to be faithful. It’s a tough thing to bear, but (and please don’t take this the wrong way), I am thankful for what has happened. I don’t mean that I’m thankful for the specific fact that Dad has died, but that I am going through a time like this. It’s really changed my perspective on life and it has been amazing to experience God’s peace and comfort in such a wonderful way (despite my continuing lack of faithfulness to him!). I could write forever on what God has taught me through this, but I won’t – I’ve gone on for long enough! This has probably been a very depressing and moaning entry which I didn’t mean for it to be, but I suppose the point of this blog was to write down how I feel in this journey. I don’t know how anyone ever comes to terms with a death, but without God I don’t know how people could cope at all. When I sing in church, or sing along to Christian CDs in my car, I think about Dad in heaven and feel like we are sharing in something together. I believe heaven is full of singing in response to the glory of God, and now I like to think that we are joining with the angels and the saints in heaven who are singing continually to God. How amazing their praise and worship must be as they are seeing Christ face to face and know his glory in all its fullness. And that is what Dad is doing and experiencing!!!! That gives a lot of strength through the sadness of losing someone who belongs to Christ. And even if Dad hadn’t been a Christian and was not now in the presence of God, I’m sure God would have ministered to me and my family in a real and powerful way because He is so good. But I praise God that He saved my Dad, and that his pain and suffering and struggles in this life really have come to an eternal end.

Lost in a memory

I was looking at a photo last night that Dad is in. I like to look at photos of him, but it can be the strangest feeling. I have a friend who lost her Dad about 10 years ago and she gets upset that she can’t remember his voice very well anymore – time has made it fade. But for me at this early stage it’s the opposite – I seem to have a heightened sense of what Dad was like – all his little mannerisms, habits, different tones of voice that he used when he was joking around or doing a voice impression, or just when he was being sweet. Everything is so real and clear that I can’t believe it’s been nearly 4 months since I last spent a good amount of time with him.

When I look at a photo these senses become even more intense. Like last night. I was looking at a photo from back in August. Dan and I had just bought quite a large tent and we wanted to test it out, so when we were at Mum and Dad’s one weekend we put it up in the garden. It was good fun, and Dad being his usual self teased us quite a bit, especially as we were planning to try out sleeping in it like a pair of kids! We were pretty proud of our tent and so insisted once it got dark that Mum, Dad and my brother came out and had coffee and cookies in it!! It was quite cold come the evening so I thought it was really sweet that they wrapped up warm and came out, going along with our silly excitement at entertaining in our new tent!!! I really didn’t think Dad would have bothered, but he was so sweet and came out with Mum all wrapped up warm. We had fun, and my brother took some photos of us all sat on deck chairs clutching hot coffee cups to keep us warm.

So I was looking at one of these photos last night, looking at Dad and enjoying the memory. I looked and looked so hard that I could almost feel like I was seeing Dad in the flesh. To look so hard at a photo can make a person seem so real and I start to get lost in the moment of the photo – I can begin to hear him and see his actions and his mannerisms. Looking at that photo I could smell the fresh summer evening air and feel the chill, and Dad was real. It was like stepping into the photo and getting lost back in the memory to the point that it felt like now, and not 5 months ago.

Dad is still so real – I can’t look at a picture of him without a sense of disbelief that he’s gone. I’ve accepted that he as, but the reality of coming to terms with it is a little harder. If I look at a photo for long enough I always get tears. Mainly with happiness from the memories and sadness that I can’t share those times with him again. I really miss him. But I’m glad that he still seems very real, and that I have so many photos of so many happy memories.

End of an old year, beginning of a new

Well, we’ve done Christmas and it was ok – actually it was really nice. It was completely different to other years, mostly because we were all at my brother’s house. I don’t think Mum has spent Christmas at someone else’s house in around 28 years, and last year was the first Christmas I spent away from the home I grew up in, so it was certainly different. I think it’s the time to start new traditions for Christmas, or maybe have no traditions at all. I don’t know how long it will be before we would enjoy Christmas at Mum’s house again because it would be so strange without Dad, so it’s probably best to do away with the traditions.

I thought about Dad a lot, but it was ok and I didn’t dwell on it too much. But I really missed him after the Christmas weekend and have cried quite a lot. Dan and I spent New Year at Mum’s, and although at the start I didn’t find it hard being back at the house, it did feel empty this time. Even things on TV that were on didn’t feel quite right, like all the old sitcoms. As far back as I can remember Dad loved all of these, and I realise now part of the fun of watching them was seeing him chuckle at them, and just the cosy memories of growing up and being at home on dark Saturday evenings while we would all watch them. It feels strange seeing them now. Not that he’d be missing them in heaven (!), but we miss sharing these things with him.

I’ve brought a jumper of Dad’s home with me. I don’t know what I’ll do with it, but he always had a certain style of jumper and when I think of him he’s always wearing one of those jumpers that I’ve got stored in my mind. There was something about them – perhaps they just provide me with a comforting image of the man who was my Dad and made me feel safe as a kid, and who had become a Grandad and probably was beginning to look like Grandads should look (whatever that is like - I’m sure we each have our own idea and I have mine but I can’t quite describe it – not old and frail like mine now is, but just Grandad!). So I have chosen the jumper that best fits the picture I have of Dad in my mind. It’s hanging in my wardrobe and I guess I’ll look at it from time to time – hopefully it will make me smile.

And now it’s a new year. I have absolutely no plans for the first time in my life. It’s strange. So who knows – perhaps it will be a very ordinary year or maybe there are lots of exciting things in store. I know it will be a year that we will continue to struggle with the loss of Dad, and I’ve learnt that anything can happen and we should be prepared to accept whatever God’s will is for us, exciting or hard. So, here I am, back at work, back in to the routine, ready for a new year.

Happy Christmas!

Just want to say happy Christmas to everyone - although I don't know if anyone actually reads this other than Rachel.

I'm feeling a lot better than when I last wrote. The car is definitely a write off, but I'm ok about it now, just feeling a bit frustrated. I wish it had been my car but there's no point in wishing. It's generally been a good week and I'm really looking forward to being with all the family at Christmas, especially my brother's little kids.

I know that from now on Christmas will never be the same as it was, but I suppose as you grow older it isn't anyway. Perhaps it will be fun to make new traditions.

So I hope everyone has a lovely time!

Steps backwards

It hasn’t been an easy weekend. I feel like I have taken so many steps backwards in dealing with everything. So many of the awful feelings that I had felt at the start, and had thankfully eased a lot, came back this weekend.

I was fine on Friday. We had a carol service in the evening at church and beforehand I was there by myself decorating the building and feeling all Christmassy. I was honestly beginning to believe that I was strong enough to get through Christmas and still have a great time despite the obvious absence of Dad. But just before I was going to pop home for some dinner Dan called and said that someone had driven in to him and that although he was fine, the car was a bit of a mess, and very likely a write off.

This would be annoying in normal circumstances, but the car is Dad’s car that we bought off Mum. It means a great deal to us – perhaps a bit too much as it is just a ‘thing’. But it’s a lovely car that Dad was so proud off. My Dad and brothers were very into cars and seemed to know everything about every car going. For as long as I can remember there’s been a lot of friendly rivalry over cars in our family and it’s been a lot of fun at times. Despite this, Dad was very disciplined and had the same old car for about10 years, until finally in February he got this new car. He was very chuffed with it, and when he died it was difficult seeing the car in the garage not being used. We have tended to keep cars in the family, so we all agreed that Dad would have loved it if one of his children had the car. We had hoped to be able to keep it for many years and use it one day as a family car.

So, although many people may not be able to understand, it has been really upsetting to see the car all smashed up and to know that we probably won’t be able to get it fixed. It is so much more to us than a car – it is a reminder of many of the fun times and friendly banter we had with Dad. I went straight round to the pastor who lives next door to the church after I heard. We are very close to him and his wife, and both have been fantastic through this. I said I feel quite guilty being so upset over losing a possession, but he didn’t think there was anything wrong with this at all. Having lost parents at a similar age to me, he knows that sometimes possessions become far more when they are associated with someone we have lost. He reminded me that we Christians can be so hard on ourselves sometimes when we think that we are thinking or feeling something that is wrong for a Christian. But being humans we are bound to feel certain things, and this is one of those situations where I shouldn’t feel guilty for how I’m feeling.

And it’s not just about the car. It just brought so much back. When Dan told me, I had the same feeling that I had when we had it confirmed that Dad’s problem was his heart – the feeling of ‘hang on a minute, this can’t happen’. It was like waiting again, not knowing how serious it was. Wondering if we were going to lose the car brought back intense feelings of wondering if we were going to lose Dad.

So the rest of the weekend has been tough. Many emotions have come back that I thought I’d got over. I’ve started feeling sorry for Dad again, something that I really, really struggled with when it first happened and just couldn’t work through. I’ve also started dreaming about him again, something that had stopped and was a great relief that it had. I’ve also felt very fragile and tearful and all the carol singing and Christmas stuff this weekend has all been a bit overwhelming.

However, I am now feeling a bit more philosophical about what has happened to the car. I really want it to be sorted out, but I wonder if it is the best thing if it can’t be. I wonder if maybe Dan and I were too protective over it and that maybe I was holding on to Dad through it. We have no need to hold on to him because he’s not lost, but has gone home! Dad was not one to be precious about his possessions, but the car did mean a lot to him, so I think to others in my family it is sometimes quite a painful thing to still have around. Although it’s sad now, perhaps it will make things easier for everyone in the long run. If it can be fixed, I think I will now be far more ready and prepared for the fact that cars are fragile things, which can be ruined in an instant. They are certainly not objects that we can expect to always have around.

So now we will just wait and see what happens, and I’m sure, as I have been, I will be able to work through this set back and through Christmas, however tough it may be.

Seasons blurred

I absolutely love Christmas - everything about it! One of my favourite parts is wrapping presents and trying to make how I dress them look better each year. So I was having a lot of fun last night wrapping up presents for the family in red or gold paper, tying them with thin bits of tinsel and putting bows on them, when I came to write the gift tag on the one for Dan's Dad. Suddenly I stopped and the tears came with no warning.

I've been doing really well these last couple of weeks. I've been so busy - out every evening last week either with meetings for work or something for church, then there's been all the planning for Christmas and things have just been so hectic. I have to say I haven't had much time to think about Dad - that's not to say I forgot him because I think about him every day now - but I haven't had time to stop and think about what's happened and carry on with grieving. I've been going to bed after midnight most nights too so even those times late at night where normally I would feel low have been taken over by tiredness and I've quickly fallen asleep. Some people may say it's good that I've been like that, but I really feel it is so important to have those times to stop and reflect, to cry or feel depressed, to ache to see the person you've lost and to think about the future with out them. I've never been one to bottle my feelings up, and while I am still grieving - which I know will be for a long time yet - I need those times to help me work through the many different emotions that I've been feeling over the past couple of months. I feel a real need to grapple with those feelings and to eventually reach a point in the future where I am no longer feeling confused by the shock of Dad dying so suddenly, and at the thought of him being taken away before I had chance to share so much more of the future with him. I feel content that God has taken him, but death is such an unnatural thing that it's very hard to understand. God didn't create the world with death - it was as a result of human sin. So yes, dying is unnatural and even when we have the wonderful assurance of knowing loved ones have gone to be with the Lord because they trusted in Jesus, it is a strange thing for the mind to process for those of us left behind.

So back to wrapping the presents. Because I have not been giving myself time to deal with what has happened lately, it's hard to handle when small things trigger thoughts. I was about to write 'dear dad' on this gift tag, and it dawned on me that I wouldn't be writing one for my own Dad. It was such a strange feeling - we are living and getting on with life without Dad, even though none of us have still fully taken it in. The fact that we haven't bought him a present is one of those small confirmations that it really is true that he's died. Sometimes it needs those small confirmations - I saw him 20 mins after he died, I went to his funeral, I've visited his grave, I've told people over and over about the events of that weekend - but they are all big things that have in many ways seemed surreal and looking back it feels wierd that they happened at all. But not having a gift tag to write to him was such a small thing, but something that hit me as a reality. It seems so wrong not to be including him in Christmas. When I think hard about him I can hear him and see him and completely imagine all the laughs and jokes we shared. He just seems so real still. He is not a memory yet. I only saw him once every few months anyway, so it still always feels like he's just at the family home as always, just on the end of the phone or a text message away. I ache to see him because I know that I can't, but I haven't begun to truely miss him yet. But I know that I will, and I am pretty sure that it will begin in just over a week when we all get together to do Christmas. There are so many things about him that I am going to miss. I still have text messages from him on my phone - he wrote the funniest things in them. He had a unique and wonderful sense of humour and sometimes I just expect to look at my phone and see a text from him to brighten up my day at work. But they haven't come. I know why of course, but it's so hard to believe that my strong, funny Dad, the man who I know was proud of me, who's eyes twinkled when I acted loud and stupid just to make him sigh in despair when really he thought it was funny- him - he's not here anymore.

It's taken me ages to write this. Life has been going along as normal for so many days now that while writing I've had to stop so many times and just think, scrunching my forehead in bewilderment that I'm actually writing this stuff at all. Christmas will no doubt be hard, but it will be one hurdle over with in what will be a difficult year ahead, as the seasons go by without him for the first time. I guess I will take things as they come. It's difficult not to start thinking about the summer, and the enjoyment we shared over many of the things that make summer what it is - what is usually my favourite season will be blurred with sadness. I think of summer and I think of Dad. But for now I will just approach Christmas knowing that there will be a huge gap this year, but thankful that i shared 24 Christmasses with him. I have no feelings of bitterness about it - I haven't been 'robbed' of these times with him. I've been blessed with a childhood full of him, and it's great to think of how he contributed to my childhood Christmas fun! And now he will be enjoying far greater delights with the Lord than we can ever experience at Christmas.

Dear old Dad!! How we'll miss him.

Puzzled

Today I was walking along going from one building to another for a meeting and I got that funny feeling that I often get now when I’m getting on with my day and focussed on the jobs I’m doing for work. It’s that feeling where suddenly your thoughts stop in their tracks, and you find yourself feeling puzzled - puzzled that anything is wrong, puzzled that anything has happened at all. Today I found myself having to say to myself in my head a few times that Dad has died, it has actually happened. But it feels so unreal when I’m away from anything that would remind me of him, like today where my mind was focussed on the meeting I was going to and what I was meant to be doing there. My thoughts just suddenly switched in a flash, and it felt so weird to think that Dad is dead and that we will never see him again. Did that day of the 9th October really actually happen?

I have 3 good friends who have lost a parent, and chatting with them in the past before it ever happened to me made me think a lot about Mum or Dad dying. I couldn’t imagine it ever happening to me, not until I was a lot older when it’s bound to happen. But today, there I was saying to myself that my Dad has died. I couldn’t quite get my head around the fact that it was actually me saying it for real and not one of my friends, as it always has been in the past.

I get those times a lot, because you can’t just stop daily life in a situation like this. It’s easy to get caught up once again with the busyness of life, and then when reality hits, sometimes it’s like a punch in the stomach and the pain feels fresh once again; but other times, like today, it’s just puzzling….

The joy of flowers!

After I finished writing earlier I discovered a new blessing for today as I left the house to go back to work. Outside our house we have a small patio which has borders all around it. We have lived in our small home for just over a year now, and about a year ago Dad came and planted our borders with bulbs (all part of his love of gardening, making sure we have lots of flowers too!). So we enjoyed a late winter and early spring of these flowers. Then he planted summer flowers for us. Obviously the summer flowers are gone for good now and I’ve just recently got rid of the last of the dead ones. But the great thing about bulbs is that they re-flower. And when I went outside I noticed some little green shoots coming up! Not knowing a great deal about flowers, I didn’t expect to see any this time of year. I thought nothing would grow until January at least. I don’t know what they are yet as they are just tiny shoots, but it was a real joy to see them. Little things like that will always mean a lot now. Those flowers will be a lovely reminder of Dad coming and helping us out with something fun, and it’s something he did that will continue. Just a small thing – but a blessing!

Blessings!

I've been thinking about where to start with all of this. Do I start from the beginning when Dad died 2 months ago or start from what i'm thinking now? Obviously the weeks immediately following were filled with the most intense emotions while the pain was still so raw. So there was so much going on that I could write about. But that would take me such a long time. Now that constant overwhelming feeling of grief has gone and I'm left with more of a dull ache that is always there in the background that every now and then flares up. Life has changed in a big way in so many ways, so I am sure so much of that will come out as I go on with writing all about it. Everything I feel takes me by surprise, and emotions hit at random times.

So anyway, today I thought I would write about the many blessings that me and my family have found through this time. It's my lunch break from work at the moment and I'm feeling ok as I usually do while I'm getting on with normal life. My friend Rachel was wondering the other day if it is possible to be happy and sad at the same time and I really believe it is. Although, as she said it is a confusing thing, and hard to explain. But as I go on with normal life I am very happy as I was before this happened. I do love my life, but now there is a sadness within my heart that i don't think will ever completely go away while I live this life and Dad isn't part of it. But I still enjoy myself and I hope that this new knock in my heart, and any future knocks there may be, will all help to make me a more Godly person who looks heavenwards and is not so caught up in this life.

So, going back to my point(!) today is a normal day and one of my favourite types of winter days where it is cold and frosty, but the sun is shining and the sky is completely blue. I love these sort of days where winter doesn't seem too dull. I have lots of memories that associate Dad with these types of days - him working in the garden, going for walks, going to buy real Christmas trees (very exciting)! - but they are warm memories and not making me feel sad right now. So it's one of those times where I'm able to see so many blessings from God.

I was going to write about them, but now I've taken up too much time going off the point, so I will come back later to do it! But the real point of this particular blog is that although sadness always lingers, God has been so good in helping me to see past the sadness and the loss to look at the great times I've had growing up, and the blessings through the events themselves. I don't always feel this positive, but it's great when I do!

I've thought about starting a blog since Dad died 2 months ago. Losing a loved one is something I have never experienced until now, but thought about a lot in the past. The experience has changed my life in so many ways. I've felt new emotions, thought more deeply than I've ever thought before and have a new perspective on life. Dad dying broke my heart, but has also brought me such blessing. The last two months have been so tough but God has been so good, and I know that Dad was a strong Christian who is now in heaven.

People ask me how I'm doing, and it's so hard to say in the moments I snatch with close friends. I have written a lot of my feelings down and it's those thoughts that I want to share with my friends. So, I decided to create this blog to share my thoughts and feelings about Dad's death, as they change each day. It's been such an emotional roller coaster and I think it's important I don't forget those emotions. Also, I love to talk about Dad as I know he isn't dead, but more alive than any of us are while we still live on this earth. So to share my feelings and my thoughts really helps me to know that I only grieve for my loss, but not for his life. The quote at the top under the title is from a book called 'Letters of Samuel Rutherford' which helped me so much in the days immediately following Dad's passing away. Samuel Rutherford was put in prison in the 1600s for spreading the gospel, and while there he wrote fantastic letters, many to people who were grieving. In the letter from which I took the quote, he reminded a father who had lost a son of God's sovereignty and this is a fuller quote from the letter (excuse the old fashioned language!):

"Your Lord may gather his roses, and shake his apples, at what season of the year he pleaseth. Each man cannot make harvest when he pleaseth, as the Lord can do. You are taught to know and adore his sovereignty which he exerciseth over you, which yet is lustred with mercy. The child hath but exchanged a bed in the garden, and is planted up higher, nearer the sun, where he shall thrive better than in this out-field moorground".
This may be a bit quaint, but it really comforted me. To know that God does as he pleases - and that includes taking Dad to be with himself because he wanted to - gives me such strength to get through it. Also, it seemed quite appropriate picture language because Dad was well known for his love of gardening and he kept a beautiful garden So that is why I have called this blog what I have.

I hope this won't be morbid or depressing in any way, as I have been blessed and however hard it is, I am thankful for this time in my life. I just want to share what I would if i was talking face to face with my friends, but so many of you I hardly get to see. So this is the start of sharing. It may not be a permanent blog, but I know that it's not going to be an easy year ahead, so for now, I know it will help to write my thoughts out.

Just one last thing. Soon after he Dad, i was speaking with a friend who lost her Mum. She said to me that afterwards she had wanted to become a more beautiful person because of what happened, not inspite of it. That has really stuck with me, and I hope it can be true of me.

Tha's it for now. Sorry it's so long!