Today I am one year shy of the half century mark. In all those years it will be my first birthday to celebrate at my MiLs in the traditions that have grown through the years with hubby's family. It is also my first birthday without my Moma. This was our picture together on my birthday last year. No one realized at the time it would be the last picture we ever took of her. I will always treasure the last time she sang Happy Birthday to me in her breathless little voice.

I have already had my first birthday call from my brother in Oklahoma. None of my brothers are very good about calling on a regular basis but they rarely ever miss calling me on my birthday. Later my SiL is taking me out to lunch for Chinese and a trip to Hobby Lobby. Then tonight it will be supper of my choice with the local family.

I finally got all my test results back and much to everyone's surprise everything was within normal levels. Since most of my symptoms have lessened or completely subsided my doctor is of the opinion I am just working my way through the grieving process and that I was severely depressed for about 6 weeks. He said it is not uncommon for something like that to happen especially when you couple a major life change like a move with the recent loss of loved ones. My energy level is slowly returning, most likely because the insomnia is gone, and now I have an occasional down day instead of the dysfunctional fog I found myself in over the holidays and into mid January. I'll see him again mid February for a recheck.

So I've been digging around in books and on the internet about the stages of grief and learned that "generally, a long period of "depression" (not clinical depression), isolation, and loneliness happens late in the grief process and that it is actually normal and expected for someone to be very depressed and sad eight or nine months later." These studies state that "just when your friends may think you should be getting on with your life, a long period of sad reflection will likely overtake you. It is during this time, that you finally realize the true magnitude of your loss, and it depresses you. You may isolate yourself on purpose, reflect on things you did with your lost one, and focus on memories of the past. You may sense feelings of emptiness or despair." Wow! Just described my winter.... If you want to read more go to RecoverFromGrief.com.

While I was digging I also researched how dreams play into the grief process and found further confirmation that I am on the upward swing for my dreams of Moma and Daddy are no longer disturbing or chaotic, but more like memories. According to psychologist Patricia Garfield, PhD, who's written nine books on dreams: "Grieving people experience "dream seasons" while mourning the loss of loved ones. During the first season people tend to dream destructive images. Later, in the second dream season, people experience chaotic dreams filled with swirling emotions of sadness and guilt. "People feel isolated in this season," she says. "Older women get depressed and the suicide rate among older men shoots up." Finally, in the third dream season, individuals transfer their recollections to precious memories, and their dream images turn positive with new life." She says "Dreams have a special power to help us let go of someone we love."

I am pretty sure I never fully grieved for Daddy until after Moma was gone too. My mind was just focused on taking care of her. I remember that sleep was impossible without Ambien until after Moma's funeral. Without the Lord and the hope of Heaven I would have no doubt had a nervous breakdown.

Until you've walked through something like this you tend to think your faith is strong enough to only have a few bad days here and there. What I've discovered is that the Holy Spirit strengthens and comforts us on our grief journey but does not preclude the need to grieve loss. God made us emotional creatures and He understands. Psalm 56 says that God puts my tears into His bottle and records each one. That brings me great comfort. I've also learned that when I face those moments when I feel like the entire world has turned against me, I have a choice. I can either turn away from the Lord and walk away from the only hope that I have, or I can fall on my face before the Lord. Joyce Meyer says we either get bitter or better. I am convinced that if we let our grief lead us to God, at the end of grief journey our soul will be purified, and we will experience God greater, deeper, and closer than ever before. We will also have greater compassion for hurting people.

Thinking back on the eleven months since Moma died I can see several stages I have already gone through:

• Numbness - I basically did the bare minimum and slept most of the time. I remember very little about this time.
• Overwhelmed - I felt distracted and had a very hard time concentrating. Life felt chaotic and too much to handle and my dreams were usually disturbing (this stage lasted the longest for me.)
• Frustration - I was told I had a short fuse, raw nerves ... that I overreacted to most everything. I waffled back and forth between feeling left out and wanting to be left alone. I often felt misunderstood and cried alot. My dreams were most often jumbled up things that made no sense.
• Sad reflection and purposeful loneliness - being in a large group was overwhelming. I just wanted to be left alone with my memories. I napped often, rarely got out of my pajamas, and craved chocolate even more than usual. I began dreaming about Moma or Daddy often, but they were mostly all comforting dreams.

Now I feel I am on the upward turn.  These past few weeks life in general seems a little calmer and more organized. My physical symptoms have lessened and I don't feel so sad or lonely all the time, although I still do have some down days. It seems my mind has started working again, and I find myself ready to begin living again. My dreams and thoughts of Moma and Daddy make me smile more often than cry now. For the first time in a long time I'm feeling creative juices begin to flow.

I've been dreaming about Moma alot these past few weeks. Several nights I would see her across the room and just about the time I'd get close enough to see her face to face the alarm would go off and I'd wake up wanting to go back to sleep and see if I could rejoin the dream and talk to her. Wonder why dreams always seem to happen just before you wake up.... Then last night I was helping Daddy look for his cowboy boots. Strange because I don't remember ever seeing him wear any. But there was a real sense of urgency in my dream...

This week I've been unpacking the last of the boxes I put aside before the  holidays.... the ones with all my framed photos in it. It got to the point that trying to figure out where to hang what on the walls was overwhelming so I just quit. Now bit by bit my bare walls are finally being filled. It's hard to believe we have lived here for almost nine months now. I even put some greenery in the empty planter basket in the living room.

Have I mentioned that I got most of my blood work back and so far everything is normal? I'm still waiting on the hormone results. Hopefully I'll have that by the end of the week. I haven't felt the need for a nap in over a week so that's an improvement.

I made a huge fresh peach cobbler to take to potluck tonight.

If you have attended church for any length of time at all you have probably sung songs based on Psalm 22 with words like "be enthroned on our praises" or heard your worship leader or pastor say something like, "God inhabits the praises of His people."  How true that the Lord often chooses to manifest His presence in a tangible way through music! Perhaps it is because music helps us focus our attention on God like nothing else ~ much like a camera's telephoto lens works. Music sung or played by someone who's heart is turned toward God has a strong spiritual impact on the singer, musician and listener. Just as David's harp music in 1 Samuel 15 impacted King Saul, so our music can today. Oppressive spirits still flee when worship flows from pure hearts. Because God is no respecter of persons, when He shows up anything can happen in our lives!

Never have I seen this more vividly illustrated that yesterday in my own life. Our pastor used to be a prison chaplain and asked us to accompany him to a prison about 30 miles from here to be a part of two worship services on Sunday. Our group consisted of  him, our church's Acapella singing group and about a dozen church members.  We left immediately after our own services and caravanned to the prison. After showing our IDs and being thoroughly searched one by one at last we were escorted by a guard to a classroom. Not sure what to expect, I was a bit surprised to find the prison praise team playing and singing as our group was escorted to the best seats in the house on the front row. I'm guessing the room held about 50. 

Those men in white jumpsuits might have been behind bars with no physical freedom, but let me tell you there was greater freedom of worship in that stark classroom than in many church buildings, including ours! I am sure there were many different religious backgrounds in that room but every person in that room was focused in one thing ~ worship. The joy of the Lord shining on those faces was contagious. During the next few hours we worshipped together. Our group sang and so did the prison choir. Pastor preached. Several times we had to pause for a head count. During the music some sat; others stood. Some lifted hands to the Lord or wept; others clapped. A few danced.  As the prison worship team sang the first group of prisoners out and the next one in the chaplain looked at me and said, "I sense the anointing." Hubby and I looked at each other for we did too. The first service was meaningful but the second one was thick with the presence of the Holy Spirit. Pastor even spoke with greater conviction.

And I felt the heaviness I have been battling off and on since before Christmas melt away. Amazing how God uses the most unlikely to accomplish His purposes. Here I thought I was going to be a blessing to them, but instead they were a blessing to me. Yesterday for those few hours we were all free!

Acts 16:25-26AMP About midnight, as Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns of praise to God [from the inner prison], and the [other] prisoners were listening to them, suddenly there was a great earthquake, so that the very foundations of the prison were shaken; and at once all the doors were opened and everyone's shackles were unfastened.

Yippee! My desk is finally clear again. Now that our taxes have been filed I can turn my attention to something a bit more fun. Like planning my garden. I long for the day it is warm enough to till the soil and plant something. Seems like forever ago that I had time to get dirt under my fingernails.... What can I say.... I'm dreaming of  playing in the dirt. For some that might sound like a lot of hard work. (And it will be.) But for me it is also a way to feed my soul.

I'm hoping to raise most of the fresh produce we usually buy every summer like cantaloupe, tomatoes, corn and squash, to name a few. Maybe even some cucumbers for pickling and pumpkins for fall decorations and pies. I also want to put out some fruit trees. I've always dabbled with flowers, but the last time I planted a vegetable garden was the summer I was pregnant with my firstborn ~ 27 years ago. Moma came over and helped me can vegetables that Tuesday I was in labor with him. I remember telling the labor room nurse all about how many jars of this and that we put up. Too bad I didn't write it down, because I couldn't tell you now if my life depended on it!

Anyway.... Hubby said he'd build me some raised beds and I've asked for a Mantis tiller for my birthday next month. So I've asked for one every gift-giving occasion for the past several years.... I'm hoping that this is the year my wishes finally come true.  I have one more room to deep clean, and then I can browse seed catalogues to my heart's content guilt free. It'll be planting time before you know it!

"Gardening is about enjoying the smell of things growing in the soil, getting dirty without feeling guilty, and generally taking the time to soak up a little peace and serenity." Lindley Karstens

Today is my baby girl's 26th birthday. It is also the first time ever in her lifetime that we haven't been together on her birthday.  This is one of those days that living 700 miles apart just stinks! Guess I'm getting a taste of what my mother went through for my 26th birthday was our first ever apart as well.

Love you Em.  

Thirty-one years ago today I was excited out of my mind for it was the morning of my wedding day. I was a senior in high school with only three weeks left of school, 12 days shy of my eighteenth birthday. It was always funny to me that my attendants were nervous, but I never was. Ever the hopeless romantic, I thought I loved that handsome young man with all of my heart and just couldn't wait to become his bride! But now I realize that love was only a tiny seed. 

As wonderful as what we had was then, it doesn't compare to what we have today.  Back then I had no idea that something supernatural and very wonderful happens in the day to day, year upon year of sharing your life with someone. Somewhere along the way as you work and laugh, hope and dream, fight and make up, remodel houses, raise children, bury parents, and pray and worship together those tiny loves seeds grow into something magnificent with roots intertwined until no one can tell where one begins and the other ends. I think this is what the Bible means when scripture says "The two shall become one."

Looks like the weather is going to cooperate and warm up enough to melt the frozen roads so we can go out tonight. Hubby decided to go ahead and work until noon, which is okay by me. Gives me plenty of time to primp for my hot date!

I'm still waiting on lab results and napping when I feel tired. I go back to the doctor in February. Hopefully I'll know something before then.

Today is one of those days I am especially thankful for a nice warm house. Yesterday fog settled into our area and the mercury plummeted so by the time hubby came home for lunch the porch was slick, even though it was under the carport. This kind of weather slows everything down here so he got to take an extended lunch break. Later ladies night at the church was canceled due to icy roads and this morning school openings are all delayed, as are morning flights at the Lubbock airport. We didn't get any snow or measurable precipitation, although today we have a slight chance of freezing rain. Guess it's hard to measure fog.... It has now been well over three months since we have had any precipitation so we'd welcome an any kind of moisture at this point ~ even ice! Predictions have us at below freezing all day today.

One good thing about all the ice and cold is it makes the birds hit my feeders. Up until this past week I haven't had much success in that department. But with all the grain crops harvested, they are finally looking for something to eat. We don't have as many different kinds of birds here on the plains as we did in the piney woods of central Arkansas. There it wasn't unusual to have 17 different kinds of birds at the feeders. So far here all I have been able to attract is juncos, house finches and doves. Maybe now I'll get a good look at whatever else might be out there.

I took this picture standing on my back porch facing Southeast. See the pumpjack in the distance beyond the icy elm?

Tomorrow is our anniversary so hubby took the day off. We were planning on spending the day in Lubbock, but if this weather pattern holds we'll stay home and just light the fireplace and grill a few steaks on the George Foreman. Where does the time go? It's hard to believe Wednesday will mark 31 years!

Today it is cold and gray outside... only 22 degrees~ but I have been basking in the warmth of the Son-shine since the wee hours of the morning.

I woke up with a Grace Williams song on my mind that really ministers to me... "I can feel Your anointing, touches me, Your anointing, sets me free, Your anointing, yeah... Breaks those chains of bondage, those heavy chains are falling off your feet right now. You are free!... Soak in the anointing... who the Son sets free is free indeed..." I had the most wonderful time just letting the Holy Spirit wash over me and praying for those the Lord brought to mind. The next thing I knew the alarm was going off and instead of wanting to turn over and go back to sleep, I feel totally energized! Like I could tackle the world. It's been such a long time since I felt like that.... literally years.

Lots to do this week to get ready for the weekend when we'll begin leading small group at our house. So I'm going to crank up the praise music and get busy. Be blessed!

BTW, if you'd like to check out what God is doing through Grace Williaims and others for yourself, click here.

Been wading through paperwork getting things ready to file taxes this week. That and napping. I'm sure looking forward to tomorrow night when we'll have a family birthday supper ~ which means I'll get to see all the little ones.  That reminds me of something funny they did last Friday night. Too bad no one was ready with a video camera....

After our usual Friday night supper date with hubby's parents a few phone calls were made and the ladies of the family gathered for a game of Shanghai Rummy. The six year old disappeared into his great-grandfather's room to build with Legos. The guys stationed themselves in the living room corralling kids when they wandered out of the kitchen where us womenfolk were playing cards. They had their hands full because the two littlest ones are at that age where they are into and on top of everything within reach.

Late in the evening the three year old decided he would help us out with the two littlest ones (ages 15 & 16 months) so he stationed himself at the doorway between the kitchen and living room and began feeding them the red jello he had been eating. The little boys were being pretty patient with him and he was even able to eat a few bites himself. Well, at one point he dropped a bite of red jiggly stuff on the kitchen floor. Good thing my MiL keeps an immaculate house! As the two little boys were both scrambling to be the first to reach that bit of cherry goodness, the three year old was pumping his arms and cheering them on, "Go baby go! Go baby go!"  We were laughing so hard I couldn't tell you who actually won the jello race. Not the first time their antics have made us smile or laugh out loud. Little ones sure make life more fun.