It’s hard to explain how I’ve been feeling of late. Work is intense. Hobbling around on a broken foot is exhausting. My son Lucas turning eleven is overwhelming. It’s emotional and brings on waves of nostalgia. I remember the day he was born as though it were yesterday. The feel of his tiny little hands against my breast. The baby smell and the wonderful way he had of snuggling up with me and how Emma would come and shove her fingers in his face in awe and big-sister-excitement.
There’s also something desperately sad about things right now. Going through a divorce is the most difficult thing I never wanted to go through – and here I am right in the middle of it. I’m sure that’s part of it. Actually, I know it’s a lot of the emotion of what I’m feeling – failure, shame, sorrow, and a sense of finality. But around and in and through that are other feelings. I have a new sense of gratitude for my family. An overarching sense of thankfulness for my mom and dad and for my mom’s husband, Wayne. They’ve each been present and kind to me. Also for my sisters and for my sister’s husband, who have been a constant balm of love in myriad ways. I also have a new sense of gratitude for friends who quietly watch and love me, and understand the nature of life enough to give me room to live this season out in all its precarious and tenuous emotions.
Life is filled with beauty and wonder and grandeur and also overwhelming loss. There are things that happen we don’t recover from. We make our way through them into something else. We walk through the valley of the shadow of death and can’t possibly stay the same. I feel like I’ve been in this long season of shadow, of hiddenness and heartache, and finally decided to step into a more honest place, and the consequences are overwhelming. And yet, there is a specific kind of strength that comes from telling the truth about ourselves.
My daughter has wanted her own horse to ride for as long as she’s been able to use complete sentences. It’s been the secret and public prayer of her heart. I’ve been at a loss as to how to help her with all the changes in our lives, except to tell her over and over to talk to her grandpa and see if there’s anything he can do to help her. (He’s a horse trainer and has lots of friends in the horse world.) And recently my dad found her a horse to ride. He’s been picking her up on the weekends to take her to the barn, where she gets her fill of all things horse.
Lucas starts Lacrosse today, something he’s wanted to do for months. I got him all signed up and he’ll be off. All to say, they’re growing up, moving into more, finding their way to joy day by day and learning to bear the unbearable with a kind of grace I find remarkably admirable. I feel like I’ve been asking them to bear the unbearable for too many years of their young lives. I’ve asked them to deal with moving countries, with changing schools, changing languages, moving houses, and now … the separation of their parents.
How much is too much?
My good friend is sick with cancer. Another friend’s husband was recently diagnosed with terminal cancer. Another friend of mine has had to fight like hell to see his children. Another friend has a sick child. Each one of us has circumstances that require us to bear up under the unbearable and somehow find a way through. Which is what we do. We find a way through.
Some of us must bear up under our own horrible decisions. We’ve made mistakes and can’t undo them. We’ve hurt people and can’t unhurt them. Others of us have hurt ourselves, or we’ve been deeply wounded by loved ones or by broken systems and institutions and can’t find the way to relief. So we go on our way and tell ourselves it doesn’t matter, that it will be okay. But deep down, in the dark places of our hearts, it does matter and sometimes it’s hard to sleep at night. We worry and deal with anxiety. Our hearts race. Our stomachs turn over. Our bodies get sick and can’t seem to heal and we wonder if this is really what it’s all about. Is this as good as it gets?
Yes. It is. This is life. It’s filled with wonder and awe, with beauty and mystery, with love and hope, and also with crushing disappointments and death. But always with new life.
It’s how we approach it that makes the difference.
I don’t have magic solutions. But I do have this … Gratitude is the pathway to joy. And real friendships, honest intimate relationships, heal us. My friend Lupe always says, “We are wounded in community, and we are healed in community.”
There is magic is opening our hearts to our loved ones and letting people into our lives. There is magic in asking for help, in sharing our secrets, in letting people love us. And there is a certain kind of magical restoration in choosing to love someone else, in putting their needs before our own. It breaks the back of loneliness and isolation.
In my favorite novel, Gilead, the Pastor John Ames says God usually gives each of us someone we can honor. To parents he gives us our children. And to children he gives us our parents. It is in honoring the other, the different, the one not like me, that pulls me out of myself into something more.
And it is in giving thanks that the mysteries of life are put in proper perspective and we learn how to somehow bear the unbearable.
I love you. You are so brave. I marvel at your resilience and willingness to keep on, keeping on. Not an easy feat but you do it. You stay present and keep your kids present and you embrace the love of others in a new way. And 11 years old? Surely it was days ago that mamo came home, so tiny. He is such a delight. With an authentic smile and tender heart. The weight he’s had to bear has not jaded him or hardened his heart. I think it’s done the opposite. I hope he had a great birthday with family and friends…. and Emmy bear has a horse to ride. Thank you Jesus. High five to dad hey 🙂
I love you, too. And I marvel at your resilience. All the time.
Lucas asked me tonight if you were ever moving back here. I smiled and said, probably not. But we’re certainly going to visit you. Before we’re skeletons.
High five to dad, indeed! Thankful a girl who loves horses, has a grandpa who loves them just as much.
Love to you and the boys,
Tina
Beautiful.
xoxo
Your words are beautiful and true. I clicked publish on my own blog then clicked over to yours…and found it amazing we wrote about similar things on the same day.
Happy birthday to your sweet boy – ice cream in the mall in Temuco last Febuary is still such a fresh memory for my kids!
K
Words can’t express….I believe you are truly one of those that God sees as His hope, His light to a darkened world – I’m forever amazed at your incredible love, your honest reflection and your restorative truth. May you continue to know and experience the Father’s lavish love for you as you continue to walk in the ups and downs of this journey we call life.
I love you. Very much. And want to get together again, soon!
xoxo
Tina
Just wanted to know that I will be praying for you and all that you are going through. Suffering is so difficult. We are going through major health issues and its so hard but God is close when we are hurting! Hugs!
Thank you. I’m so sorry for the health issues. Miss you!
xoxo
Tina
I just returned from our Lenten service and it is the same message. We are studying Barbara Brown Taylor’s Learning to Walk in the Dark. You capture this idea so beautifully, my friend.
I love that book! Miss you.
xoxo
Thank you! Just what I needed to hear…
Many blessings to you…
Blessings to you, too!
xoxo
Your words were full of grace and truth. “It is in honoring the other, the different, the one not like me, that pulls me out of myself into something more.” I love that. I love you.
xoxo — love you, too!
This is beautifully expressed! It truly touches my heart.
Thank you, Myles. It’s good to hear from you.
Much Love,
Tina
I “get it” the sleepless nights, worry, anxiety, churning stomach and physical illness that come along with this journey through the “valley of the shadow of death” as I also belong to a group I did not choose: surviving spouse. But Tina I just gotta say, I am not so convinced shame is from Jesus.. He may show us we are guilty of something or some wrong attitude and help us to rectify it. Maybe shame comes from within? Heaped upon ourselves for whatever reasons. Please be gentle with yourself as you heal and become more like our Jesus. I haven’t kept up with you since our mission trip adventures and my heart aches for the pain you are enduring. Would love to reconnect if you are in the area where I live. (Same house, same car, probably same furniture and junk in the garage.) Ha ha. Take care dear one. XOXO
Hi Peggy!
So nice to hear from you. In my post I don’t think I was saying that shame comes from God. It’s a part of my personal journey. It comes and goes and eventually will ebb out as I walk in honesty and authenticity before God and friends.
Much Love to you,
Tina
xoxo
Tina,
Wow what a beautiful writer you are! Your words blow me away with their raw truth and genuine expression of your heart.
I didn’t intend to be negative about you feelings… I guess I was thinking about my tendency to shame myself for things that are really out of my control. My feelings tend to automatically go to “worse case scenario”. ie: I have offended someone or fallen short in some way. Then I remind myself: would I talk to my best friend in such a negative and condemning way? Nope absolutely not… So I shouldn’t talk to myself in that way (I gotta be vigilant sometimes in regard to my “self talk”)
I love you girl! I got your back!
Peggy
So glad to hear from you! And yes, self talk is super important.
xoxo
This is so powerful. Thank you, Tina, for these wise and thoughtful and reassuring words. I’m sorry to hear about your divorce, and deeply emboldened by and admiring of your extremely positive attitude about moving forward. xox
It’s nice to hear from you! You probably got my loooong note on your blog last night. Life keeps giving us stuff to write about. And stuff to cry about.
I hope to stay in better touch.
xoxo
Sending so much kindness your way….I am sorry about this journey that you are currently traveling….I too once navigated this same path…..the only way out is to make your way through it….and this is what you are doing….please know I will keep you close to heart and in thought….that you are reinvigorated in spirit and strength to contend with those moments and miles that seem all to long and treacherous. Here is wishing you an early Spring in your heart and light surround you to suffocate the shadow.
Thank you! What a thoughtful note. And yes, here’s to an early spring!
xoxo
Tina