less like scars.

i don't really know what to do with today. the question that keeps running in my mind is simply, "what now?!" year one: check. so do we just start the whole process over again now? the truth is, one year feels like one week. people act like the one year mark is such a monumental milestone. one person even said something like "you made it!" in a card to me yesterday. funny.

i've got another song to share. the words are unbelievable. i'm praying for this kind of perspective on the last year of my life.

"less like scars"--sara groves

it's been a hard year,
but i'm climbing out of the rubble.
these lessons are hard.
healing changes are subtle.
but every day it's...

less like tearing more like building,
less like captive more like willing,
less like breakdown more like surrender,
less like haunting more like remember...

and i feel you here,
and you're picking up the pieces,
forever faithful.
it seemed out of my hands, a bad situation,
but you are able.
and in your hands the pain and hurt
look less like scars and more like character.

less like a prison more like my room,
less like a casket more like a womb,
less like dying more like transcending,
less like fear, less like an ending...

just a little while ago,
i couldn't feel the power or the hope.
i couldn't cope, i couldn't feel a thing.
just a little while back,
i was desperate, broken, laid out,
hoping you would come.

and i need you.
and i want you here.
and i feel you here.

and in your hands the pain and hurt
look less like scars and more like character.

one year.

today marks one year since my dad died. one year feels like one week. i don't really know what i'm supposed to feel on this day, but the idea of "supposed to" anything somewhat bothers me. even after reading my fair share of books on grief, and after studying the different stages in some of my psychology classes, i don't really think there is any set way to move through grief. it's an easy lie to believe, that i'm not feeling or doing or being the right thing at this stage in the process. all that to say, there's much freedom on the other side of expectation.

i'm not much for cheesy cliches, especially in the christian culture. i'll go so far as to say that some scriptures have turned into cliches, because people throw them around without really knowing what they mean and expect them to work like some magic pill to take the pain away. romans 8.28? philippians 4.13? beautiful truths because of the God of whom they testify, but not healing ointments in and of themselves. and i think that's just it: the reason they've become cliche and overused is because they really do contain good truth when known and used in the right context.

i've had lamentations 3 in my head all day. it's the inspiration behind my dad's favorite hymn. it has always been one of my favorites, but it can lean towards being one of those "feel good" passages. so, i've decided to look into it a little more deeply today.

i recently finished a book called "a sacred sorrow: reaching out to God in the lost language of lament," by michael card. it was recommended to me and i would recommend it to anyone walking in grief. it explores biblical grieving in the lives of job, david, jeremiah, and jesus. in the section on jeremiah, it discusses the book of lamentations in great detail.

the book is made up of four acrostic poems expressing jeremiah's grief over nebuchadnezzar's annihilation of jerusalem. to this day, it is still read every year on the day of mourning for the destruction of the Temple. how cool is that?!

in the first two chapters, jeremiah grieves the loss of the city and compares it to a widow mourning the loss of her beloved. from despair, he moves to anger, even seeing God as the enemy.

oh, but then comes chapter 3. jeremiah makes an incredible transition. after exhausting himself out in lament against the God that has become his enemy, he finds a surprising hope in the midst of seeming hopelessness.

"so i say, 'my endurance has perished;
so has my hope from the Lord.'
remember my affliction and my wanderings...
my soul continually remembers it and is bowed down within me.
but this i call to mind, and therefore i have hope:
the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
'the Lord is my portion,' says my soul,
'therefore i will hope in him.'" (v. 18-24)

"steadfast love" comes from the hebrew word "hesed." beautiful. expect more on that word in a later post.

so now, this "feel good" passage seems less about fuzzy feelings and more about a soul crying out with a deep sense of desperation. it's less about throwing around "hope" like a token word and more about truly understanding hope in God for all things after losing everything. the God who he had once seen as enemy is now the God that hears and sees his despair and chooses to join him in that suffering.

what a beautiful picture of desolation, realization, restoration. the book ends with pleas for God to restore and to remember them in their distress. isn't that the natural fear, that everyone (even God) will forget what has happened? yet His love never ceases. His mercies are new each day. Great is His faithfulness.

grand design.

i hate the flashbacks. they happen all the time, but especially this morning. in my mind, i remember everything happening on a tuesday morning, so that would be today, but i know the big 27th date is tomorrow. am i crazy to recognize a number on a calendar?

i'm seeing the necessity to "take every thought captive to obey Christ" (2 cor. 10.5). it's easy to get lost in flashbacks. satan likes to use them to his advantage, distorting the truth, making me believe lies, letting me grow comfortable in my discomfort...but honestly, sometimes it seems easier to harbor thoughts of being lonely and misunderstood than to find the strength to "choose life" (deut. 30.19).

music speaks to my soul. certain artists have put into words what my heart longs to cry out. this song was on repeat in my head as i fought waking up this morning.

"grand design"--jill phillips

i knew it all along that this day was coming
even though i knew it doesn't hurt any less
but somehow the suffering draws me to you
i could start running in anger
but then what's the point of a savior

i feel the pain but it still doesn't change who you are
nothing i feel is outside of the reach of your arms
my whole world could crumble but all of the pieces remain
in your hands that are waiting to put them together again

just like i know you will in your own time, in your own wisdom
one day i'll look back and see the grand design
maybe it will make sense then, these questions i have
but with it all here front and center
sometimes it's hard to remember

i could start running in anger
but then what's the point of a savior

take two.

a couple years ago i tried to be a blogger...but i quickly lost interest. maybe because i didn't have much to write about. maybe because i felt like nobody read it. maybe because it seemed silly.

but recently, i've found myself keeping up with certain blogs and being incredibly blessed by them. that's not to say that i'm expecting multitudes to be "incredibly blessed" by this blog--much less read it--but i guess you could say i've been inspired to give it another shot.

so if i'm the only person that ever sees this, or if people i've never met read it and are blessed, either way, it should be interesting.