tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26731715874526343742024-03-14T01:33:55.167-07:00So, this is grief?Robert Abnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16726210017320352821noreply@blogger.comBlogger31125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673171587452634374.post-8818946201346409022019-10-24T14:29:00.001-07:002019-10-24T14:29:39.356-07:00The Babadook Never Left<span style="font-size: large;">It has been over three and a half years since I have written any new submissions for this blog discussing my grief journey.</span><div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In that time, I have remarried (my beautiful wife Kari) and I have accepted a call to a new church (Lutheran Church of the Cross).</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Life has been good. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Don't get me wrong, life has had its ups and downs, as it always will; but overall, life has been good.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">My grief has changed over these years. Never fully absent, yet never fully present. Just there. As it always will be.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Which brings me to my first story for this post. I have to tell you this story before I tell you the main story.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This is the story of the Babadook.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This photograph shows a silhouette of the Babadook tattooed inside the back of my right arm, above the elbow. I rarely see it. It was placed out of sight for a reason. Allow me to explain...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The Babadook is a film that came out in 2014. If you haven't seen the film, I must warn you that this story involves spoilers. Seriously, stop reading now if you don't want the film spoiled for you. Otherwise, please proceed. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the film, a woman is on her way to the hospital with her husband to give birth to their first child. On the way, they get into a car accident and the husband loses his life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We jump ahead a few years, and the woman is raising her child alone, she is still stricken with grief. She won't speak, or allow anyone to speak, her husband's name. She is detached from her son.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The son begins acting out, and he blames his behavior on the Babadook. And, it isn't long before the Babadook begins manifesting itself as a shadowy, noisy figure in their home. At times, the shadow silhouette of the Babadook resembles the silhouette of her dead husband's clothing that is still hanging in her room.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The film is pretty creepy overall, as we watch this mother hide and cower from this thing that appears to be haunting her home. The film reaches an anxiety inducing climax that concludes with the mother bravely standing up to the dark entity and telling it that it has no right to haunt her and her son in their own home. Her ability to face the darkness causes it to retreat.<br />I'm sure that many of you see where this is heading. The film is allegorical. (That was lost on a lot of people, by the way.) The film is a portrayal of our need to face our grief or depression, rather than hide from it. And, it even has a brilliant twist at the end. The Babadook retreats to and lives in the basement, the mother visits it from time to time, to "feed it" or to "face it". It never goes away, but it is maintained. Pretty clever, eh?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The film resonated very strongly with Kari and I. My grief, like the Babadook, was very scary when I tried to avoid it or hide from it. But, when I would face it, it became manageable. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But, it never fully goes away. That's why I have the silhouette tattooed on me, in that strange spot on the backside of my arm. The Babadook reminds me that my grief will always be there, but it won't always be where I see it all the time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, I told you that story, because you needed to hear that story to better understand this story.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I haven't been strongly affected by my grief for a while. It's been pretty manageable, and nothing has "triggered" any sensitive spots.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">That being said, you have probably gathered that I wouldn't be typing this blog entry if something hadn't happened to remind me that the grief is always there. The Babadook never left. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I was reminded that there will still be milestones in my grief journey by a trip to Minnesota last weekend.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Tiffany's cousin Liesl was getting ordained in Saint Paul, and I really wanted to be there. And, I wanted Kari to come with me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Kari agreed to go immediately. Kari has met Liesl before and we all spent time together in California when I graduated from seminary. Kari had also met Liesl's brother Matt on that trip. So, she already had a level of familiarity and comfort with them.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But, this trip would be the first time Kari met Tiffany's brothers. And, we had planned to take flowers to Tiffany's grave while we were there.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Now, I'm not dumb (by most standards), I anticipated that there would be some anxiety on everybody's part. Myself included. I wanted everyone to enjoy the joyous occasion for which we were gathered, and I didn't want anyone to be painfully uncomfortable.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Weeks before the trip, I became restless and I wasn't sleeping well. And, like the early days of my grief, my brain became foggy. I had a hard time focusing on anything, I was forgetful, and I didn't feel like myself.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">If I were less dumb, I could have speculated that this all was related to my unending grief journey. This was the Babadook lurking in the shadows. But hey, I'm not the first person to lack in self awareness.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Well, I'll cut right to the chase. The trip was fantastic. Liesl's ordination service was wonderful. And, Tiffany's family could not have been more warm and welcoming to Kari. They even made sure she was included in the family photos after the ordination.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Tiffany's brother, Stephen (aka Stevo), let us stay with he and his wife Michelle. We got to spend a lot of time with them. We got to spend time with Tiffany's brother Bryan and his wife Steffi. And, of course, we got to spend quality time with Aunt Carolyn and Uncle Steve. I could not have asked for a better weekend with family. It was truly a blessing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">(P.S. Matt and I did what Matt and I always do, we hugged each other a lot and we drank a lot of beer.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Of course, you may have noticed that I'm leaving out a big part of the story. The part that I realized was the source of all of my restlessness and fog in the weeks leading up to the trip. Visiting Tiffany's grave with Kari.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I knew the ordination would be great. I knew that Tiffany's family would be warm and welcoming. I knew that Kari would enjoy the trip and the people. What I didn't know, was how I would do visiting the grave of my late spouse with my new spouse.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Just think about that for a minute. Can you imagine how surreal that situation could be? Can you look at your spouse right now and imagine visiting their grave with a future spouse? I hope you have never had to consider that possibility. But, maybe now you can begin to understand why my brain was feeling like biscuits and gravy. I was about to do something you can't prepare for. There is no handbook for that situation.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We woke up Sunday morning, said our goodbyes to Stevo and Michelle and we hit the road. I took Kari to see Luther Seminary. We got her a Minnesota Twins shirt. And, then we went to Target to find flowers for Tiffany's grave. We found some nice mums. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I could barely see straight as we left Target, my mind was racing. The whole drive from there to the cemetery, I was emotional. A lump in my throat, tears in my eyes. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We got there, we found her grave, and there we stood. Kari broke the silence by telling me she loved me. I needed to hear it. I told her that I loved her too. We talked about Tiffany. We talked about life. But, mostly we stood there quietly embracing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">As we were walking away, I apologized to Kari, I told her that I know it's hard for her too. I know it's not easy to be married to a widower. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">What she said next reached out and healed my troubled heart. She said, "It used to be hard, but it's a lot easier now because I love you so much. It's easier for me to help you through this because of how much I love you." And, as we pulled away in the truck she said, "I love you more every day, and that makes things like this easier." Tears continued to flow down my cheeks. I told her that I couldn't be more lucky to have her love and support to help me get through. And, I couldn't be more lucky to still have the love and support of Tiffany's family. Then I said, "I think Tiffany's family is pretty fond of you too, if you couldn't tell this weekend." She got choked up and acknowledged how much that meant to her as well.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then we drove off, enjoyed our respective drinks from Dunkin', and I felt a weight lifted off of my shoulders, a veil lifted from my brain.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I acknowledged the Babadook, I didn't hide from it, I fed it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We went on to have a nice night in Chicago with Kari's family, then we made it home safely the next day. I'm sleeping okay again, and I'm feeling "normal" again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This trip was an important reminder that the grief journey is ongoing. That it doesn't end, it merely changes. But, with the right people by your side, you can get through it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">If it's in a word, or it's in a look, you can't get rid of the Babadook.</span></div>
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Robert Abnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16726210017320352821noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673171587452634374.post-60851561044846769862016-02-10T17:33:00.004-08:002016-02-10T17:33:50.309-08:00Ashes and Dust<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">It’s Ash Wednesday, today is the day that I place Ashes on
the forehead of members of my church family. Today is the day that I say
“Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” Which, let’s be
honest, is really just a churchy way of saying “Don’t forget, you’re going to
die.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I promise, it’s not as bleak as it sounds.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But, it is an important reminder.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We are all going to die, there is no escaping that. So, the
real question is, what will we do with the time we have on this side of God’s
Kingdom. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Will we use this time to merely store up Earthly treasures,
or will we (as Christians) strive to do our best to love and serve God and our
neighbor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Ash Wednesday kicks off the season of Lent, a time of
reflection and repentance. During this season our desire to return to God and
to return to our spiritual disciplines is more amplified than usual.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Yes, it is Ash Wednesday, we are reminded that we are but
dust, and to dust we shall return.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Naturally, writing my sermon today made me think of Tiffany
and the short amount of time she had with us on this plane of existence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Two memories came to mind, the first of which made it into
tonight’s sermon.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Thinking of Ash Wednesday caused me to think about what we
do with the time we have before we return to dust, it should cause all of us to
consider what we will leave behind when our time here is done.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Will we be remembered for who we were and how we treated
people? Or, will we be remembered for the things we possessed and left behind? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This question took me back to Mexico in the Summer of 2012.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Tiffany and I had taken a small honeymoon immediately
following our wedding in 2011. Uncle John and Aunt Barb had graciously offered
us a getaway to the cabin in Northern Minnesota. We had a wonderful week in the
Northwoods. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">However, our “real” honeymoon was planned for the summer of
2012. Tiffany’s grandparents gave us the gift of one week in their timeshare in
Puerto Vallarta, and they also gave us enough skymiles to get there. What a
treat!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We had a great time in Mexico. We met some cool people, we
ate some great food, and we soaked up a lot of sun. But, no trip would be
complete without at least one trial or tribulation to overcome.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We got duped into a timeshare presentation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We got off the plane, we ran through a gauntlet of timeshare
presenters in the airport, only to get caught at the last second by a guy
claiming to be from our hotel. He gave us a map and a shot of tequila, so I
figured he couldn’t be all bad. He showed us where everything was on the map,
and then he showed us brochures for all of the fun stuff. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then, get this, he
told us about all the free/discounted stuff we could get if we just sat through
a presentation. He gave us 50% off discounts for zip-lines, a romantic cruise,
and a city tour. And all we had to do was give him the money up front. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Now, I have to tell you that I had never been to Mexico
before, I didn’t know anything about how this stuff worked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Tiffany had been several times with family. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Back to our story. So, the offers are on the table, he just
needs the discounted payment up front. Tiffany looks at me and says, “sounds
good to me.” To which I agree, “if we’re going to do this fun stuff anyway, we
might was well get a discount.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">My frugality will someday lead to my demise.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">After the transaction, Tiffany and I finally get into the
car taking us to our hotel. She then turns to me and says, “I hope that wasn’t
a scam.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">My stomach sinks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“Wait, what!?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I said, “I thought this was normal, I thought you had done
something like this before. We just gave that dude 125 pesos.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">To which she replies, “No, I thought you thought it was a
good idea.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Oh dear…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A cab was arranged to pick us up the next morning to take us
to the other resort so they could pitch us their timeshare presentation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I laid awake most of the night.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I was sure that we were going to be kidnapped and our organs
were going to be sold on the black market.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Morning came and so did the taxi.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Along the way to our destination, a bus roared by our cab
and hit a puddle. That puddle water leapt through our open window and into my
mouth. I was sure that it was a bad omen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We arrived safely. The place wasn’t sketchy at all. And
besides the high pressure, brow beating sales pitch at the end we had a decent
time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">During our tour of the resort, the guide wined and dined us
as he told us about all the awesome things that the resort had to offer. Of
course, he used all of the sales pitch questions he had been trained to use.
All of which were carefully crafted to convince us that we needed to purchase
timeshares from his company.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then came my favorite question.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“When you’re gone, what would you want to be remembered for?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Surely, he was using this as an angle to work in the fact
that purchasing a large portion in a timeshare would enable me to have
something to pass down to my children and grandchildren. Yes, someday they too
could sit in on an awful timeshare presentation experience and fondly remember
that it was I who passed this wonderful gift down to them…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">But, my answer wasn’t what he expected.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">“When you’re gone, what would you want to be remembered
for?” He asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">“I’d like to hope that people will remember me as someone
who left the world a little bit better off than how I’d found it.” I answered,
in all honesty.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">He was speechless.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Tiffany almost laughed out loud by how off-guard my answer
caught him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">He didn’t have a ready-made timeshare pitch prepared for
that answer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Thinking about the symbolism of Ash Wednesday reminded me of
that day, and more specifically that conversation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Because, I still feel the same way.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">As I ponder mortality, I’d still like to be remembered for
who I was, not for what I had.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">And hopefully, when people remember who I was, it will be as
a man who loved God, his family, his friends, and as man who tried to do right
by friend and stranger alike. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">But enough about me, because this post is about Tiffany.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">When I consider the symbolism of Ash Wednesday, and how we
spend our time and energy before we return to dust, I thank God that Tiffany
gave us more than “possessions” to remember her by.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">She didn’t leave us timeshares or a fancy Stradivarius
violin.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">She left us with memories of her love, beauty, compassion,
thoughtfulness, and grace.*<br />
(*Grace, as in how well she treated everyone she met. Not how gracefully she
tripped over and/or spilled anything and everything.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I was hiking and searching for Bigfoot with my friend Josh
over this past summer. Josh is not only a friend, he is a pastoral colleague. During
our hike we were waxing theologically, going back and forth as we usually do.
Then the subject came to eschatology, a fancy word for what you believe about
the end of the world. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">As we talked about the old things passing away and the new
heaven and the new earth, and how God will make all things new and wipe away
every tear from our eyes. It really caused me to consider how thankful I was
for God’s light that we all saw through Tiffany.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Losing Tiffany was the largest lesson in the impermanence of
this world that I had ever learned. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">However, through the impermanence of this life, I was able
to more fully appreciate the one thing that is permanent, God and His love.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Furthermore, I learned that the most important thing we can
do on this side of God’s creation is to love and serve God and neighbor as best
we can. Because in the end, that’s all that matters.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">As Josh and I chatted and hiked that day, I could feel that
emotional lump in my throat well up as I was able to put into words for the
first time just how important it was to me that Tiffany left behind a life of
love worth remembering. Because the light and love that shone forth from her
was the light and love given to her by our triune God.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">During that conversation it really sank in that even though
her life was cut short, she had done what God had called her to do with the
time that she had. Out of dust she was formed, and to dust she has returned,
but during the time in between she really made it count.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Though the sting of death is still very sharp, I have come
to find some peace in knowing that while she was here she did the only thing
that mattered. She loved as God had loved her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">She loved her family, she loved her friends, she loved her
co-workers, she loved the students she worked with, and she loved the strangers
we encountered in our ministry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">And most importantly, she recognized where that love came
from. She spread the love given to her by God, and she returned the love given
to her by God.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Was she perfect? No. Was loving all of the aforementioned always
easy for her? No.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">But she was always willing to try. And she was always
willing to ask God to help her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I think of all of these things on this Ash Wednesday and I
am thankful.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I’m thankful for the life of love that Tiffany showed us,
because in the end it’s all that really matters.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I pray that when each of us goes back down to dust, we can
be remembered for such love.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Grace and Peace,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Abner</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Robert Abnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16726210017320352821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673171587452634374.post-69110435488917387292015-04-04T18:54:00.001-07:002015-04-04T18:54:49.105-07:00Every Day is Holy Saturday<span style="font-size: large;">Many of you know that I'm a Lutheran Pastor. That lumps me in with other church traditions that are often labeled "liturgical". (Technically every church has a liturgy of some sort, we're just typically labeled Liturgical because basically we follow a consistent order of service on Sunday mornings and we follow a liturgical church calendar, but I digress...)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Part of that calendar includes a week that we call Holy Week, which happens to be this week. It comes at the end of the liturgical season of Lent. (Lent isn't just a Catholic thing...) Holy Week begins with Palm Sunday, where we celebrate Christ's entry into Jerusalem. Some traditions observe special days almost every night of Holy Week, however, our next big night is Maundy Thursday. On Maundy Thursday, we remember the Last Supper, Jesus washing the disciple's feet, and Jesus' command that we love one another just as he has loved us. Next, we observe Good Friday, the day that Jesus was crucified.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">For those of you following along, you've probably already figured out that Holy Week concludes with our celebration of the resurrected Christ on Easter Sunday. However, I skipped one important day, a lot of people do. The day between Good Friday and Easter is typically called Holy Saturday or Easter Vigil. In the Catholic tradition, it's a big night for baptisms...and looooooong church services. However, many other people skip this day.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It's not a surprise that many people skip Holy Saturday, it's a painful day. Jesus is dead, the disciples are hiding, nobody knew what Sunday morning would behold. As if Good Friday wasn't hard enough, the disciples saw their leader, their Lord, their teacher, their Messiah die on a cross. Hung there by the oppressive Roman occupiers, left there to die like a criminal.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Jesus' followers may have believed he was going to rise again, but they had no way of knowing that he would rise again. In fact, if you read Mark's Gospel, (as we are this liturgical year) you will see that the women going to visit the tomb aren't looking for the resurrected Christ, they're going to finish the funeral process. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It's no surprise that many people skip Holy Saturday, Hell, most Christians outside of the "liturgical" traditions don't even observe Good Friday. We love to talk about resurrection, but we don't like to acknowledge death.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Jesus was dead. One third of the Holy Trinity died on the cross.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">We don't like to acknowledge Jesus' death because we have a hard time coming to terms with death in our own life.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Most people who ignore Good Friday are the same ones who will tell you, "You shouldn't be sad that your loved one died, they're in Heaven now."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">But the truth is, death wasn't easy for the disciples. And, it isn't easy for us. Faith wasn't easy for the disciples. And, it isn't so easy for us.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">But, again, we love to skip Good Friday because death is inconvenient and the resurrection is awesome. When Jesus died on the cross, his disciples didn't high five each other and say "Glad that's over! Our sins are forgiven, we get to go to Heaven!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">No, they hid. They were heartbroken. They were terrified. They knew that they had denied and abandoned Jesus. </span><span style="font-size: large;">Their faith was shaken.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">These very disciples who walked alongside Jesus were not positive that they'd see him again.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Holy Saturday, was a long, painful, sorrow-filled, day of despair and doubts.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Many of you know this feeling. Many of you have experienced Holy Saturday when you have faced the death of a loved one. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Furthermore, you know that some part of every day can feel like Holy Saturday. Grief. Doubt. Pain. Separation. Despair. And, like the disciples, you're wondering how Jesus is going to fix this.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Some days, you get to move forward. Some days, you encounter the risen Christ and you know that all will be well. But, there are also some days that you go back to Good Friday, you see Jesus dying on the cross, you re-live the death of your loved one.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">But, for those of us who grieve, most days are Holy Saturdays.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I remember someone asking me how I felt during Tiffany's funeral, and I told them that I felt like those scared disciples hiding out on Saturday praying that Jesus would rise again.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Even on my best days, I still have moments where I feel like those disciples. Trusting in everything that Jesus said, but never truly knowing.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">This is what faith is. Faith is trusting and believing, not knowing and being absolutely positive.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">However, in the Holy Saturdays of our lives, we must remember that they are holy. They are holy because God lives into that tension with us. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">God knows our grief. We are told that Jesus wept at the tomb of his friend Lazarus. So too does Jesus weep with us at the death of our loved ones, our loved ones who were doing God's work here on earth.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">God knows our fears and uncertainties. We are told that Jesus prayed for the cup of suffering to be taken from him in the Garden of Gethsemane. So too does Jesus long for our cup of suffering to be taken from us, on the day that he will wipe away all of our tears and make all things new.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">God knows our despair. We are told that as he hang dying on the cross, Jesus exclaimed "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" So too does Jesus hear and understand our feelings of forsakenness when we cry out to him in our pain and despair.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Holy Saturday is just as important as the rest of Holy Week, because Holy Saturday can be every day of our lives when we are separated from the ones we love.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It's important that we recognize and live into that tension during our times of grief. To deny it is to downplay or mask the pain of separation. To downplay the pain of separation, we ignore the deep love we held for our loved one.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">You can't have resurrection without death.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">You can't get to Easter Sunday from Good Friday without living through Holy Saturday.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Fortunately, like the disciples, we don't have to experience our Holy Saturdays alone. We can grieve together, and we can help each other along as we wait.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">And we all know, waiting is the hard part.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">May our wait not be too long.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Come, Lord Jesus.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-h2IDGpvwuQE/VSCUhb8uBEI/AAAAAAAAAIM/CubkStdTaKQ/s1600/holy%2Bsaturday.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-h2IDGpvwuQE/VSCUhb8uBEI/AAAAAAAAAIM/CubkStdTaKQ/s1600/holy%2Bsaturday.jpg" height="287" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I pray that you all experience the hope of the risen Christ as you celebrate the resurrection tomorrow, on Easter Sunday.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Grace and Peace,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Robert</span>Robert Abnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16726210017320352821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673171587452634374.post-27232084439741787652014-12-17T12:40:00.001-08:002014-12-17T12:40:46.831-08:00Jax was more than just a Dog<span style="font-size: large;">I used to be a real jerk about how much people would get so attached to their pets.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I used to think, "geez, it's just a dog/cat...what's the big deal?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">That all changed when I saw how heartbroken my mom was when she lost her faithful dog, Baby.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">For all intents and purposes, Baby hated me. So, I never had much attachment to her. But, she was by my mother's side for the better part of a decade. She was her companion. She was her friend. She was part of the family.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">When Baby died, we lost a part of the family. Losing a part of the family sucks. I finally understood how people could get attached to these silly pets.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I was attached to a silly pet, his name was Jax.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CVenX3U-r1E/VJHR9BimrWI/AAAAAAAAAGw/UBRpF5tTJ5g/s1600/jax%2B3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CVenX3U-r1E/VJHR9BimrWI/AAAAAAAAAGw/UBRpF5tTJ5g/s1600/jax%2B3.jpg" height="298" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Jax was more than just a dog.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">He was Tiffany's first dog.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">He was our dog.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Everybody loved Jax.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Jax was rescued by my friends Eric and Julie Beer. Jax was being neglected by his owner. He was left outside in freezing temperatures. Weather so severe that it left frostbite marks on his body. Weather so severe that his chain would be frozen to the ground and he wouldn't be able to lift his head. He had a permanent mark around his neck where that chain used to be. He was also severely malnourished. When Eric and Julie rescued him he was skin and bones, almost unrecognizable to the healthy 80 pound dog he was supposed to be. When Eric took him to the vet for the first time, the vet didn't charge them a dime to get Jax everything he needed to start nursing him back to health.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Eric and Julie gave him a loving home and nursed him back to health.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LKlmGyrUvXM/VJHUHCRfNLI/AAAAAAAAAG8/xpd-5PUDmoI/s1600/jax.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LKlmGyrUvXM/VJHUHCRfNLI/AAAAAAAAAG8/xpd-5PUDmoI/s1600/jax.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Not long after Tiffany and I were married, we started talking about getting a dog. I didn't want one because we traveled too much. But, she argued that it'd be nice to have a dog at the house with her to keep her "safe" while I was working late nights or out of town. Of course, she eventually wore me down and we started thinking of what kind of dog we could get.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">(For the record, Jax only looked like a good guard dog. On several occasions, friends and repairmen came into the home while we were gone and Jax never even bothered to check them out or bark. He was usually found in this position or something similar...so much for keeping Tiffany "safe" while I was away.)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-szYzRv3bmFY/VJHVSBVh5bI/AAAAAAAAAHI/KMlz5ZJsI5w/s1600/jax%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-szYzRv3bmFY/VJHVSBVh5bI/AAAAAAAAAHI/KMlz5ZJsI5w/s1600/jax%2B2.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Tiffany and I decided that we liked Bully breeds and we'd probably look for something in that family. Shortly after that, we were at Eric and Julie's house for a church game night gathering and we saw Jax for the first time.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It was love at first sight.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">That lazy pup walked right up to us, plopped down, rolled over on his back, and demanded that his belly be rubbed.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It wasn't long after that night that Julie and Eric asked us if we wanted Jax. They knew we wanted a Bully and they had originally only planned on keeping Jax long enough to nurse him back to health, but they kept him longer because he was just too damned lovable. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It didn't take us long to say yes.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Tiffany loved that dog.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bQoPWMtRQ-E/VJHad1JZkDI/AAAAAAAAAHY/eWeXT_WkPzw/s1600/jax%2Btiff%2B3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bQoPWMtRQ-E/VJHad1JZkDI/AAAAAAAAAHY/eWeXT_WkPzw/s1600/jax%2Btiff%2B3.jpg" height="400" width="298" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I did too, of course.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Another reason we wanted a dog was to make us learn how to adapt our busy lives to take care of something. If we could adapt to having a dog, we could adapt to having a kid. I know, there's a big difference between pets and kids, but you catch my drift.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">So, we had this big dog, and we took him everywhere. He was a road warrior. One summer, Tiffany drove him all the way to the cabin in Northern Minnesota by herself, and I drove him all the way back by myself. That's a 14 hour trip, one way! He made the trip there and back twice.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-__wu_hR3RnQ/VJHbiQgTgwI/AAAAAAAAAHg/ZL_eafzKuWY/s1600/jax%2Btiff.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-__wu_hR3RnQ/VJHbiQgTgwI/AAAAAAAAAHg/ZL_eafzKuWY/s1600/jax%2Btiff.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Jax was our boy, and we loved him dearly.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">He slept 20 hours a day.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">He snored.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">He farted all the time.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">He did no tricks.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">He often made one of us late to work because he took his sweet time going potty in the morning.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">He didn't like to play.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">He only wanted one thing in life, he just wanted his belly rubbed.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Everybody loved him.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">He was a great first dog for Tiffany. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">He was the perfect dog to match my laid back attitude.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">He was a part of our happy little family.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LAy9DdIVFDk/VJHcknEcPoI/AAAAAAAAAHo/IekDJP27OoE/s1600/jax%2Btiff%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LAy9DdIVFDk/VJHcknEcPoI/AAAAAAAAAHo/IekDJP27OoE/s1600/jax%2Btiff%2B2.jpg" height="400" width="298" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">After the accident, I couldn't take care of Jax any more. I was very nomadic during the early months. It wasn't fair to him that I would be home even less than I was before.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The night of the accident, Eric and Julie took him back into their home. They kept him until I could find him another home.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">In the days following the accident, several people were generous enough to offer to take Jax in.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Ultimately, Jax went to live with Brian and Rachel Jackson...and of course, their pug Herman.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I was so thankful that they took him in. They gave him a loving home and I could see him anytime I wanted to.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">A few weeks ago, they had to have Jax neutered. The vet was concerned that his production of testosterone was negatively affecting his prostate.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Much like old men, old male dogs suffer from prostate problems too.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">After the surgery, Jax was on heavy pain meds and appeared to be doing better. However, once they started weaning him off the meds, he slowly got worse. Noticeably worse. So, they took him back in to the vet.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The vet deduced that something bigger was probably going on with his prostate or other internal organs. It was probably cancer. He only seemed better while he was on the pain meds because they were covering up all of his pain, not just his post-surgery pain.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Chances are, he'd probably been in pain a long time. The vet told Brian and Rachel that the Bully breeds are know for being tough, stoic dogs who won't let on that they're hurting because they don't want to inconvenience their owner. They're that loyal.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Faced with limited options, we decided it was best to have Jax put to sleep. It was the most loving and ethical decision.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">(Brian called to discuss all of this with me last Friday. So, if you saw a big, bearded guy crying in the Denver airport, it was probably me.)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I had the option to go see him one last time, but I couldn't. His passing was going to be hard enough to face as it is. Seeing him in person and rubbing his belly would only make it that much harder.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Jax was put to sleep last evening.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Brian stayed with him the whole time.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">(Poor Brian. Not only did he have to put my dog down, he had the unfortunate task of calling all of my close friends to tell them about the accident because his was the only phone number I could remember.)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Jax was more than just a dog.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">He was Tiffany's dog.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">He was our dog.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">He was a part of our little family.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">That family of three has been reduced to one.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I'm going to miss Jax, but obviously, the tears I cry are covering a multitude of grief platforms.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Jax was one more thing that Tiffany and I shared that is now gone.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I knew that he would die someday, but Hell, we're all gonna die someday. Acknowledging that doesn't make it any easier when it actually happens. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I hope that we can all take comfort in knowing that the last half of his life was Heaven compared to the Hell he faced for the first half of his life.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">He was surrounded by people who loved him.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Jax was more than just a dog.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Jax was our companion.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">In Genesis, the author teaches us that God created animals to be our helpers, to be our companions.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Jax certainly helped us enjoy life more. He helped us learn more about love, selfless love.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I thank God for Jax, and it may sound silly, but I believe I'll see Jax again. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Not only do we learn about God creating animals in Genesis, the author of Revelation tells us that every living creature in Heaven and on Earth and under the Earth sings praises to God in the final days. I believe I'll see Jax there, along with every other person and animal that I love.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Jax was more than just a dog.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Jax was a beautiful creature of God, and he taught me a lot about love.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Rest in Peace sweet boy, until we meet again...</span>Robert Abnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16726210017320352821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673171587452634374.post-9931133244898774772014-12-08T11:30:00.005-08:002014-12-08T11:30:56.774-08:00It's Been a Year<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2PGiukyrvGg/VIX8T2AgDXI/AAAAAAAAAGg/s-bgYN5jAcs/s1600/Tiff%2BSaints.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2PGiukyrvGg/VIX8T2AgDXI/AAAAAAAAAGg/s-bgYN5jAcs/s1600/Tiff%2BSaints.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I've heard it said that losing a loved one can be like losing a part of your body. Part of you is missing. You can't replace it. You can try to find substitutes, but you can never truly replace what you have lost. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">You can also learn how to continue living life after you lose a body part. You may walk with a limp, or you may never throw a football again. But, you can learn to do other things. You can still manage to live. You can find other hobbies, you can find new things that will make you happy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But, a part of you will always be missing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">You may not always think about it, but occasionally you will be reminded. You will see someone else walking with a limp. You will encounter someone who is struggling with what they've lost. And, it will remind you of what you've lost. In those moments you can find strength and solidarity in knowing that you're not the only one. Or, you will be reminded of what you used to have, and how hard it is to go on without it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Losing a loved one is a lot like losing a part of your body, much of what I said above still applies. The biggest difference is, others can't see it. Others cannot see the <a href="http://robertabner.blogspot.com/2014/07/the-holes-in-our-hearts.html" target="_blank">hole in your heart</a>. Only you, and those close to you, know that it is there. And, it's a lot harder for people to notice when it's causing you to struggle.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">One year ago today, I lost a piece of my heart.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">One year ago today, my wife died in a <a href="http://robertabner.blogspot.com/2014/05/that-night.html" target="_blank">car accident</a>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It still feels like yesterday.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It still feels surreal.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I can still hear her voice when I think about her.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I can still see her beautiful face when I close my eyes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I went to our old house last week to pick up our vacuum cleaner that I had left behind for the cleaning crew. As I walked around the empty rooms looking at the places where so much life had occurred, I was prepared to let myself grieve. But, nothing was coming. This was kind of a good sign. It let me realize that maybe I had properly done all the grieving that I needed to do in that space. But, on my way out, I stood and looked at the door that leads to the garage, a door that I had watched her walk through a thousand times, and I thought about how I'd give anything to watch her walk through that door one more time. Then, I was overcome with emotion.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It's been a year.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It's been a year, and I still miss so much about her:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">-I miss her enthusiastic, contagious laughter</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">-I miss how she would steal my wool hunting socks and I could never find them when I was looking for them</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">-I miss how she would have to hang her clothes out to dry all over the house so that they wouldn't shrink</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">-I miss how she would destroy the kitchen when she'd cook</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">-I miss the freckle in her palm that I would only notice when I gave her communion</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">-I miss how controlled her climate and environment would have to be in order for her to sleep</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">-I miss the funny things she would say on the nights she'd take Ambien</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">-I miss her impeccable planning and organizational skills</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">-I miss how much she hated cats</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">-I miss how she would call me out on my bullshit</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">-I miss the way she would wave her hand in the air while she would "rap" the parts of her favorite songs</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">-I miss making fun of her accent when it'd come through</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">-I miss her only understanding half of what I said because of my accent</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">-I miss how much she loved and supported me</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">-I miss how easy it was to love her</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I miss her from the deepest part of my being.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It's been a year.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Where do I go from here?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I don't honestly know.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm just going to keep moving forward the way I have tried to, with the help of God, my family, and my friends.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">What does the one year anniversary mean anyway?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I know it's not going to magically stop hurting because it has been a year. The year mark is something we do as humans because we love to quantify things. But the truth is, it only measures that it's been 365 days since we've suffered an unspeakable loss. Nothing more. Things do get different over time, but it's not the time elapsed that changes things, it's what we do with that time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Perhaps because of this "year" mark, I will allow myself to grow and heal in different ways. Perhaps, I will give myself permission to do so.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But, the truth is, I've been growing and healing for many months thanks to the work of the Holy Spirit and God's word made flesh in the people who have surrounded me. It's been a slow process, and I'm still a work in progress.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">One of my biggest fears is the worry that because we've hit the "one year" mark people are going to expect me to have all of my shit together. Or, I'm going to be less patient with myself and think that I should have all of my shit together. But, if we can be honest with ourselves, none of us really ever have all of our shit together. We only convince ourselves and others that we have our shit together enough to pull off what we're trying to do in life, and we trust that God will sustain us along the way and strengthen us when we falter.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It's been a year.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I can't be more thankful for the love, prayers, and support that many of you have given me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It's been a year.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I've made it this far, I might as well keep going.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It's been a year.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And a day will never go by that I don't miss her.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Grace and Peace,</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Robert</span></div>
Robert Abnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16726210017320352821noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673171587452634374.post-7675492317957945382014-11-30T14:05:00.001-08:002014-11-30T14:05:58.289-08:00"Chiseled in Stone" and other sad old country songs<span style="font-size: large;">Growing up, I learned how to sing by listening to my Dad sing along to country music while we rode around in his truck. Johnny Cash, George Jones, Merle Haggard, Alabama, Garth Brooks...he sang along with all of 'em.</span><div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">That's also where I learned to love many of the same songs that I love today.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">One of those songs is by a country singer named Vern Gosdin. Vern's name doesn't carry the same weight these days that the aforementioned names do, but the dude could sing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">One of his biggest hits was titled "Chiseled in Stone".</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/sTrPJvEzmwQ?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It's about a man getting into an argument with his wife and then running off to the bar to drown his sorrows. While there, he encounters a fellow patron who informs him he should be grateful for what he has. Because, as he says, "you don't know about lonely or how long nights can be, until you've lived through the story that's still living inside me. You don't know about sadness, until you've faced life alone. No, you don't know about lonely until it's chiseled in stone."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I remember the first time Tiffany heard that song. We were at the 8 Second Saloon seeing David Allan Coe in concert. (If you want to hear wilder stories about that concert, just ask me in person.) Ol' DAC is known for doing medleys at his concerts, sometimes they're fun, sometimes I think he just doesn't know all the words. Either way, Chiseled in Stone came up in a medley. In the middle, he explained that his wife had passed away (which I later found out wasn't entirely true) and that this song conveyed how he felt. The sad, heartfelt words of the chorus made Tiffany cry; right there, in the middle of a DAC concert.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I thought about that Vern Gosdin song, and I thought about how it impacted Tiffany, last Wednesday when I picked out her headstone.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It was another difficult milestone, along with facing our first Thanksgiving without her.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I don't know why it took me so long to pick out a headstone. It's not something you need to rush into. But, I don't think I was ready for it when I was in Minnesota back in June. Honestly, I don't think anyone is ever ready for it. But, it's something that has to be done. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Picking out a headstone is pretty permanent. It's another sobering reminder. It's not something I planned on doing this early in life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">What do you put on the headstone of the person you planned on spending the rest of your life with? How do you convey to the world who they were? How do you take a slab of stone and make it say "one of the finest people who ever walked the earth, who was gone too soon, who meant so much to so many people, and I feel sorry for you if you never got to meet her"?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Tiffany's father and cousin accompanied me to the cemetery and we laughed through tears as we thought of how full her headstone would be if we went wild with descriptors "Wife-Daughter-Sister-Cousin-Friend-Niece-Violinist-Volleyballer-Croc Enthusiast-Child of God..." We could have filled up multiple headstones.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But, that's not the norm.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, you pick a headstone. And you do the best you can.</span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--lT514PCWOU/VHuOU0LNm3I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/AMsGcRQGDs4/s1600/headstone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--lT514PCWOU/VHuOU0LNm3I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/AMsGcRQGDs4/s1600/headstone.jpg" height="317" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Let me tell ya, that ol' Vern Gosdin song is right.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">You don't know about lonely, or how long nights can be...<br />You don't know about lonely, until it's chiseled in stone.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">One would think that maybe a man like me wouldn't want to listen to those sad old country songs any more, but the truth is quite the opposite. Those sad old country songs have gotten me through some of my loneliest times. The loneliness of loss is often accompanied by the loneliness of isolation, the feeling that you're the only person who has ever felt this way. Those sad old songs remind me that I'm not the only country boy who has ever faced loss or been sad before.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">This doesn't mean I'm lonely all of the time. I stay pretty well surrounded by people who love and support me. But, I can't be surrounded by people all the time. It's not possible, and it wouldn't be entirely helpful for the healing process. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I know that there are plenty of people who are just a phone call away when I face deep loneliness, but sometimes I've just got to spend that time talking to Jesus and listening to sad old country songs.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">-</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">The one year anniversary of Tiffany's death is a week from tomorrow...can you believe that? Some days I can, some days I can't. The days can be so long, but the months go by so fast.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Please continue to keep me in your prayers as I face yet another difficult milestone. But, I won't face it alone, I've got plans to be with friends and family...and sad old country songs...and of course, the Holy Spirit.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Grace and Peace,</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Robert</span></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Robert Abnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16726210017320352821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673171587452634374.post-25613966922660918912014-10-12T13:05:00.000-07:002014-10-12T13:05:04.984-07:00The Grieving Comes in Waves<span style="font-size: large;">Grief is a cruel mistress.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">You never know just when or where it will hit you.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">About a month ago, I was part of a community church service with my Wesleyan and Catholic colleagues. After the service, there was a community meal. On my way out, I saw a boy coming in to partake in the meal.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I recognized him, but I couldn't remember where it was from. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Then it hit me.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Last summer (2013), my church partnered up with the Wesleyan church to put on a community movie night. We projected a film on the wall of the community center, we had free drinks and popcorn, and we invited the whole community.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">We had a good turnout. About halfway through the film, a mother and son wandered over to see what was up. The little boy wanted popcorn, but you could tell that the mother was hesitant because she didn't know if it cost anything. Someone told the little boy that the popcorn was free and he came running to his mother shouting, "It's free! The popcorn's free!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">This kid was stoked about some popcorn.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It brought tears to Tiffany's eyes. To know that she was a part of something that made this little boy so happy meant the world to her. It was the sort of thing she lived for. It was the sort of thing that motivated her to work on our community projects. She just loved to help others.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">That's where I recognized the little boy from.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It took me right back to that movie night. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It took me right back to the heart of my compassionate wife.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I cried the whole way down the alley walking back to my church from the community center.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">That's what grief does to you.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">-</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Some of you may have noticed that I haven't written on this blog for a while. In fact, I was just commenting the other day to some friends that I didn't know when I would write on here again.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It's not that I'm "over it" or done with grieving, there just didn't seem to be anything worth saying on here. The blog had been my outlet, and it helped me a lot. But, I didn't feel compelled to "make" myself sit down and blog if I didn't have anything new that needed to be said.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">That being said, can you guess why I'm writing this post?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I needed an outlet.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I've been in a funk.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">And you never really know that you're in a funk until you step back and take a look at yourself. It takes some self awareness.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">My friends with depression have told me that it's like you see a dark cloud coming, but you fail to realize you're already standing under one.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I know the feeling.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The last time I was in a funk like this, it was the weeks leading up to our wedding anniversary.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I was unmotivated, I was emotional, and I felt lonely in a crowded room.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Guess how I've been feeling lately...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Check, check, and check.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">So, I started doing the math. I felt this way before our anniversary, a milestone in the first year of grief.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Guess what's coming up...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">another milestone.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">My ordination is less than three weeks away.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">This was a day that she and I had been working toward together. A day that was the completion of a goal we set together. A stepping stone in the vision of our lives together.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">And she's not here to celebrate it. She's not here to see the destination reached. She's not here to see the goal accomplished.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">And that hurts. It hurts down deep.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I think I figured out why I've been in a funk.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Now, that doesn't mean I've spent my recent days in complete misery.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I've been spending time with the best friends and family that a guy could ask for.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I went hunting in Wyoming with my Dad.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I worked in a haunted house with my good friends the other night.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I still watch wrasslin every Monday with some of my best friends.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">And, I still record a podcast with my best friends.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">But, none of that will ever fill the Tiffany sized hole in my heart.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Nothing will.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The motorcycle, the records, the concerts, the tattoos, the golfing, the guns, the travel adventures...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">None of it will ever fill the Tiffany sized hole in my heart.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The real trick is to enjoy and appreciate everything that I mentioned above for what they are. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">They will never fill the Tiffany sized hole in my heart, and I should never fool myself into thinking that they will.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I love my friends and family, and I enjoy the things I do. But, the hole remains. I just have to continue to allow the space around the hole to grow larger and be filled with more love. (<a href="http://robertabner.blogspot.com/2014/07/the-holes-in-our-hearts.html" target="_blank">Refer to this previous post for reference</a>)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">And, I have to continue being patient with myself. It's only been ten months.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I will always grieve the loss of my beautiful wife. And, that grief will continue to sneak up on me the rest of my life.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">But, I must continue to heal and move forward. I have to continue living a life worth living. But, I must remember to be kind to myself along the way.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I'm glad I wrote this post, I feel a little bit better already. But, I'm not stopping here. I made an appointment to see my grief counselors on Tuesday, they'll work me over pretty good.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Grace, Mercy, and Peace to you all,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Robert</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">p.s. I found this old note from Tiffany when I was cleaning out the house and I hung it up in my office. She would always stick little notes on my sink or in my bag before I left for a trip. I know that she is still looking over me with these words...</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>Robert Abnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16726210017320352821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673171587452634374.post-75109060206672850972014-08-24T12:25:00.001-07:002014-08-24T12:26:27.178-07:00Seeds of Hope, Echoes of Sorrow<span style="font-size: large;">Sometimes, the hardest part of moving forward is realizing that you have no other choice. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Well, perhaps moving forward isn't the only choice. But it is the only viable one.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">We want to move backward to where our loved ones were. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">We know we can't do that.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">We want to not move at all. The dull consistent pain of stasis is easier to handle than the sharp pains of new birth. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Rebirth. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Resurrection.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">You can't have resurrection without death. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Death stings. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">In order to rise anew, part of you has to die.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Though a part of my wife will always live within me, I must realize that part of me died with her.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">In that death, I must seek resurrection.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Sometimes it's a lot harder to move forward than other times. Especially when it involves literally moving.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Moving and settling into my new home has been going well. My new home is in a great location, and I get to hang out with my Muncie friends consistently.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I need that. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The life that my friends (in Muncie and elsewhere)</span><span style="font-size: large;"> give to me is part of the resurrection process. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Last week in church, someone asked me how the move and the settling in has been going. My countenance must have substantially changed because they smiled and they said, "You look happy."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I think I'm ready to let myself feel happy again.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">But, let's not get ahead of ourselves.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">This doesn't mean that any of this has been easy, nor does it mean the experience of moving hasn't seen it's share of grief.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">After a night of packing, and following a day of working, a came home to the boxes stacked up in the living room and it hit me like a ton of bricks.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Oh God, this is happening.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The last time there were boxes stacked in the living room, we were moving in.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Newly Married.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Our whole lives ahead of us.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It was overwhelming.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The next week, I was having a terrible night packing.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Just struggling.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I had my phone in my hand trying to decide who to call to help me chill out a little bit.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">My phone literally went off in my hands.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I managed to at least say hello before I started going off like Ron Burgundy after Baxter gets kicked off the bridge.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-size: large;">My friend let me cry it out, and then got me laughing pretty good before we ended our conversation. It was just what I needed.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Sometimes, ya just gotta get it out.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I also faced the difficulty of packing up some of Tiffany's things that I hadn't found the courage to go through yet. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Throughout this whole process, it has been hard for me to go through the trivial everyday things that she laid down planning to come back to.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The things on her sink.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The things on her desk, among them the church bulletin from the day of the accident.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Her office at work.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The things that remind me of how abrupt her departure was. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">When the day came for us to make the major part of the move. I still hadn't touched her desk at the house. I hadn't found the time or emotional energy.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">While we were hauling some stuff to Muncie, members of my church family hung around the house to help pack and prepare more stuff for another trip.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">They packed up the things from her desk for me.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The boxes are clearly marked and I can go through them when I'm ready.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Sometimes, you've got to let people help you do the things you're not ready to do.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Sometimes, you've got to be okay with accepting that there are still some things that you're not ready to do.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I'm very thankful that they packed that stuff up for me. I'm sure they knew it was what I needed.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Then I had a birthday.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">As if shaving my beard, moving, and getting approved for ordination* wasn't transitional enough...I had to process celebrating my first birthday without her.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Tiffany took birthdays seriously.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Cards, cakes, favorite beers, you name it. She pulled out all the stops. Last year, she even got me prosciutto! And, an Indy Brew Bus tour!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">We used to buy concert tickets for each other for birthdays. That's why I was so thankful that my friends took me to see Kiss and Def Leppard this past weekend. We kept part of the tradition alive and we had an awesome time. (Except for the lack of sleep)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">On my birthday, I sat thinking about her in my office at work and how she liked to make a big fuss about birthdays.. I listened to the rain POURING down outside of my office and I remembered something she used to tell me.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Rain is used as a plot device in literature and film to signify change. (She reminded me of that every time she made me watch The Notebook.) </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Then, naturally, I began to think about the use of water in the Biblical narrative. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The Israelites were led through water to deliver them from oppression to new lives of freedom.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The water of baptism sets us free from the bonds of sin and death for new lives in Christ.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Both significant changes for the people of God in each of the Testaments involving water. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I thought of all of this as I sat in my office listening to the rain that day.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It was a Holy Spirit moment for me. I had to sit back in my chair and take it all in. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">My wife and the Holy Spirit were with me in my office that day.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Change does occur, but so does new life. There is resurrection.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I think I'm ready to let myself feel happy again.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Grace and Peace,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Robert</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">*To be discussed in a future blog.</span>Robert Abnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16726210017320352821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673171587452634374.post-45261853883582747082014-08-01T13:17:00.000-07:002014-08-01T13:17:22.143-07:00A Less Bearded Man among the Saints<span style="font-size: large;">It may surprise some of my more musically inclined friends to learn that my favorite Wilco album is "Sky Blue Sky".</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I don't care if Pitchfork said it was "Dad-Rock".</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">One thing I love about the album is it's almost like we're meeting a new Jeff Tweedy.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Around the time that Wilco was releasing "A Ghost is Born" in 2004, Tweedy went to rehab for his addiction to painkillers.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I like to think that we get to hear Tweedy experiencing a new world with the material he wrote for "Sky Blue Sky", which came out in 2007. (While I was working at Side 1 Records, the greatest store ever.)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I have to think that going through rehab gave Tweedy a chance to see the world with new eyes. We get to hear this new perspective on the world with "Sky Blue Sky".</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">At this point you're probably wondering why in the Hell am I talking about Wilco so much...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I shaved off my mourning beard, and I chose "Sky Blue Sky" as the soundtrack of the occasion. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">(If you don't know the purpose of the mourning beard, refer back to <a href="http://robertabner.blogspot.com/2014/03/its-not-duck-dynasty-beard.html" target="_blank">this earlier post</a>.)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Like Tweedy going through rehab in his journey of life, cutting the mourning beard was a new milestone in my grief journey. It's time to start seeing the world through new eyes. "Sky Blue Sky" really speaks to a lot of what I'm going through. Especially in these two songs:</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm sure as Tweedy stumbled to find his new footing, he needed people to be patient with him. I know the feeling...</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br />And then, there's the beautiful song at the end about the loss of his mother...</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The lyrics from the aforementioned "On and On and On" always stop me in my tracks:<br /><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: Verdana, Arial; text-align: center;">One day we'll disappear together in a dream</span><br style="background-color: #ccccdd; border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;" /><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: Verdana, Arial; text-align: center;">However short or long our lives are going to be</span><br style="background-color: #ccccdd; border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;" /><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: Verdana, Arial; text-align: center;">I will live in you or you will live in me</span><br style="background-color: #ccccdd; border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;" /><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: Verdana, Arial; text-align: center;">Until we disappear together in a dream</span><br style="background-color: #ccccdd; border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;" /><br style="background-color: #ccccdd; border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;" /><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: Verdana, Arial; text-align: center;">Please don't cry </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: Verdana, Arial; text-align: center;">we're designed to die</span><br style="background-color: #ccccdd; border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;" /><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: Verdana, Arial; text-align: center;">You can't deny </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: Verdana, Arial; text-align: center;">even the gentlest tide</span><br style="background-color: #ccccdd; border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;" /><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: Verdana, Arial; text-align: center;">On and on and on </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: Verdana, Arial; text-align: center;">we'll be together yeah</span><br style="background-color: #ccccdd; border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;" /><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: Verdana, Arial; text-align: center;">On and on and on</span><br style="background-color: #ccccdd; border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;" /><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: Verdana, Arial; text-align: center;">On and on and on</span><br style="background-color: #ccccdd; border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;" /><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: Verdana, Arial; text-align: center;">We're going to try</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; text-align: center;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Okay, that's enough about Wilco.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">But, hopefully you catch my point on why this was the appropriate album for the occasion of trimming the beard.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I didn't make the decision to trim the beard alone. I spent much time in prayer, discernment, and conversation with close friends about it. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It was time.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I felt that if I kept the beard any longer, it would start becoming a hindrance in the grieving process. It would have changed from an outward sign of my grief to shackles of grief keeping me chained to one place.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">You can't stay in one place with grief, you have to keep moving. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Sometimes you go back to places you've already been. And that's okay, as long as you keep moving.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I also decided that if I was going to trim the beard, I needed to mark the occasion with something more involved than a careful soundtrack selection.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">So, I decided it was time to visit the <a href="http://www.mariasteinshrine.org/" target="_blank">Maria Stein Shrine of the Holy Relics</a> in Maria Stein, Ohio that I've always wanted to go to.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Surprise surprise, the religious dude wanted to do something spiritual to commemorate a big moment in his life.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9gWYQFf9Wzs/U9vymRoIe9I/AAAAAAAAAFg/OuK3aQ4vons/s1600/relics.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9gWYQFf9Wzs/U9vymRoIe9I/AAAAAAAAAFg/OuK3aQ4vons/s1600/relics.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I had a very good visit.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I went through the museum.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I went on the guided tour. (led by a nun)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I spent time in prayer in a chapel with 1,000 relics!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">...Including three pieces of the True Cross.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I attended the noon prayer service.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I toured the statues on the grounds.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I wept as I prayed at the statue of Saint Jude.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I bought goodies in the gift shop. (Catholics have the best gift shops.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">And then I came home.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It was everything I could have asked for. A good morning of prayer and reflection.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Now, two of my best buds are coming over to record podcasts one last time at the Abner Ranch. Fun will be had.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The beard is gone, the journey continues...</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Grace and Peace,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Robert</span>Robert Abnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16726210017320352821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673171587452634374.post-8258293150814078372014-07-22T12:04:00.000-07:002014-07-22T12:04:19.576-07:00The Holes in our Hearts<span style="font-size: large;">This will be a short post.</span><div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm about to embark on another adventure. This time, I'll be joining Tiffany's cousin Matt and his wife Lori in the Black Hills of Deadwood, South Dakota.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But, I felt compelled to write today. So, I wanted to share an image that one of my grief counselors shared with me. It's been very helpful for me, and others have found it helpful when I've shared it with them.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The loss of our loved one leaves a hole in our heart.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">(Here comes the hard news.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">That hole will never be filled, it will ALWAYS be there. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">However, the areas of our heart around that hole can get bigger.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Those new, bigger areas, they can be filled with new and different kinds of love.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Make no mistake, the hole will still be there and it will still hurt.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But, we can embrace the new love and let it dull that pain. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The new love comes in many different forms. Old friends, new friends, family, nature, the Holy Spirit, the list could go on...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, we must stop trying to fill the hole and let it exist. Live into the pain, don't ignore it or try to fill it with something else.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Be aware of the areas around the hole that are growing, allow them to grow. Allow them to be filled with new love. Don't stop the growth, don't shut off your heart.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I remember when Kal gave me this illustration. I remember crying when he told me that the hole would always be there. It's a hard pill to swallow. Our whole life and culture centers around covering up, masking, or eliminating pain. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But, in this instance, we must recognize it. We must name it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Over time, acknowledging the hole became liberating. It meant that I didn't have to try to fill it. It meant that I didn't have to "move on". It meant that I could focus on those areas around the hole and devote energy into filling them.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">To deny the hole in our heart we would have to deny the impact our loved one made on our life. We would never want to do that.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, we live with the hole, trusting that it will be filled in the age to come. All the while, learning to fill the areas around it with new love.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Because a life without love isn't a life worth living.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Grace, Love, and Peace to you all,</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Robert</span></div>
Robert Abnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16726210017320352821noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673171587452634374.post-85384616751864520822014-07-14T10:04:00.001-07:002014-07-14T10:04:59.128-07:00To be Married and given in Marriage<span style="font-size: large;">Many of you know that my wife's favorite movie was "The Notebook". I'm willing to bet that she had probably watched the movie over one hundred times during the span of her short life. Not only did she like the movie: she read the book, learned how to play selections from the score on the piano, and had the movie poster.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">She loved the movie so much, that I made her a deal. Because she watched so many of my goofy horror movies and far-out documentaries, I would watch "The Notebook" with her once a year. She could choose to watch it on her birthday or our anniversary. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I didn't watch the movie on her birthday this year, and I must admit that I will not be watching it this Wednesday for our anniversary.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I don't like the movie. Listen, I know it's sweet that he goes and reads to her everyday because her memory is gone. But, let's face it, they weren't a very good couple to begin with. They fought all the time!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Tiffany always hoped that she would find her "Noah", I hope that I was a better fit for her than a "Noah" character would have been.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, yeah, this Wednesday would have been our third wedding anniversary. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I'm writing the blog now because I'll be in Tennessee on Wednesday. I'm going on vacation with my cousin and her kids. I'll be in good hands, my cousin is also a widow, so she knows what this particular brand of crazy looks like.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">This is going to be another one of those painful firsts, it's been weighing on me for the last couple of days already. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">This is the worst. The woooooooooooorst. (Jean-Ralphio Voice)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">In marriage, the two become one. This week, as I remember the day that we made our vows, I feel the absence of my better half more than ever.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I also remember that at the end of those vows, we said "til death do us part" or "as long as we both shall live". It's a hard pill to swallow, but I have come to understand that death ends a marriage.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">(I know, we could talk for hours about the theological implications of marriage.)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Marriage is something we do here. Marriage is pleasing to God. Marriage helps us get through this life.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">But, Jesus says that in the age to come, we will not marry or be given in marriage. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I believe that I will see Tiffany again and our love will be complete because we will both be fully united with Christ. But, I don't know that we will be Husband and Wife in Heaven. It has taken awhile to adjust to this idea, but I've learned to accept it. Because, I believe that I have no way of knowing what the age to come will look like. But, I know that it will be better than anything I can assume about it.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">However, the hard truth remains, I wasn't done having her as my wife on this side of eternity. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I still need her. I feel so incomplete without her. Some days I wonder how I make it without her by my side.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I try not to spend too much time giving myself a pity party and living in the past, but on these painful firsts I give myself a pass. You've got to.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">My wife was an amazing woman, and I'll never forget how beautiful she was on our wedding day. (or, everyday for that matter)</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5p2AphHQYm4/U8QNgYnsQgI/AAAAAAAAAE8/zKGCltUoAVw/s1600/tiff+wedding.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5p2AphHQYm4/U8QNgYnsQgI/AAAAAAAAAE8/zKGCltUoAVw/s1600/tiff+wedding.jpg" height="640" width="512" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">She made me a better man.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I remember her every time I got to the communion table, because I know that the Body of Christ still connects us. When I eat the bread and drink the wine, I know that she joins me because she now rests in Christ. In the sacraments, I remember how thin the veil between this world and the next can be.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">We had communion during our wedding ceremony; it connected us to the saints then, and it connects me to Tiffany now.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Please say an extra prayer for me this Wednesday, July 16th, I'm sure I will need it. And please, take a moment to remember our wedding or any other special memory of my wife. And, most importantly, remember that the Body of Christ still connects us to Tiffany, and all of our loved ones who have gone on.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Grace, Mercy, and Peace to you,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Robert</span>Robert Abnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16726210017320352821noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673171587452634374.post-1359969374999433342014-07-07T14:37:00.000-07:002014-07-07T14:37:36.999-07:00The Ways in which we Move.<span style="font-size: large;">Yesterday, I told my church council that I was planning on moving back to Muncie. <b><u>I am not leaving the church</u></b>. Just moving out of the parsonage.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I did not reach this decision easily. I spent a lot of time in prayer, discussion, and discernment before arriving at this conclusion. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I loved our home at the "Abner Ranch". It was perfect for Tiffany, Jax, and I. We had our own place, in the middle of nowhere. All we needed was each other, and we got along just fine. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">But, it doesn't feel like my home anymore. It's our home, minus one. Well, minus two really, since Jax went to live with Brian and Rachel.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The commute home from Muncie gets longer each time. An hour drive seems that much longer when you've got no one to go home to.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">This move is necessary for my spiritual and emotional health.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">And, the move isn't that far fetched. I'm merely flip flopping which community I live in, relative to the two communities I serve. I actually work more days a week in Muncie, so I'll be commuting one less day a week.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">But, I make no illusions that moving will be easy. Not only do I love my big, rent free, house in the country...it was our house. It was a place where so many memories were made, and so much of a future was planned.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The memories remain. But, that future is lost.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Losing a vision for the future is one of the hardest things to lose, especially when it involves losing the person you planned on making that future with. This happens in the loss of a spouse, the loss of a child, and even in a divorce.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Does that mean there is no future? Of course not.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">But, one of the hardest things to convince yourself of, is that planning a new future is not a betrayal of the memories of the past. It's not a betrayal of the future you wanted. It's not a betrayal of the loved one you lost.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">But, grief lies to you. Grief can make you feel like a jerk for trying to move forward with your life.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Because let's be honest, we don't want to move forward with life. We want to move backward, back where we were with the ones we love.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But, we can't move back. We know we have to move forward.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Notice I didn't say "move on".</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">How could we ever "move on"? It's foolish to think that we could "move on" and simply forget all of the joy of our memories, or the pain of our losses. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">But, it's the fear that keeps us here. We are afraid that if we move forward we're going move further away from the one we've lost, we're going to be unfaithful to their memory.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">In these moments of fear, I'm comforted by the words of Saint John Chrysostom, "</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">They whom we love and lose are no longer where they were before. They are now wherever we are."</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px;">All of this goes through my mind when I consider moving back to Muncie.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px;">But, in the long run, I know that it's the right decision.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px;">I'm kind of a social guy, so living in a town with a population larger than 250 might be good for me. I've got some long time friends in Muncie and there are plenty of things going on to keep me active and healthily busy.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px;">Tiffany would want me to move forward, I would want her to do the same if the situation was reversed. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px;">But, I will miss our home. I will miss the life that we made for ourselves there.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span></span>Robert Abnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16726210017320352821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673171587452634374.post-55383865882252322272014-06-30T13:58:00.000-07:002014-06-30T13:58:47.010-07:00Tales of Travel and a Sweet Little Dream<span style="font-size: large;">This is going to be a catch-all post that will attempt to encapsulate the many places I've been over the last month, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. </span><div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I don't know where to begin, so let's begin with the music that has been sustaining me over the last month. As I type I'm listening to Explosions in the Sky, this band has always helped my creative process, but if I listen to them too long I get too contemplative. I've somehow found myself coming back to Kanye West's latest album "Yeezus". I hated the album when it came out because I thought it was narcissistically mediocre. But, something about "Blood on the Leaves" has captured me, the emotion of the song matches my emotion some days. There's anger in the song, I don't have a lot of anger, but the mood of the song identifies the trace amount of anger that lingers inside me. Obviously, the lyrics don't really coincide with what I'm experiencing. And, of course, I keep finding myself coming back to my favorite alt-country albums. Trace by Son Volt and Stranger's Almanac by Whiskeytown have been a consistent soundtrack for my life the past 6 months.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Let's talk about the Tiffany Tour.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">For a description of what the trip was going to be, please revisit <a href="http://robertabner.blogspot.com/2014/05/tiffany-tour-2014.html" target="_blank">this post</a>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The trip went off without a hitch. No car problems. No accidents. No major detours to speak of. The final trip odometer was 2,146.1 miles.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I really enjoyed seeing everyone and spending time with them. But, before I can tell you more about the trip, I have to tell you about a movie.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Before I left for the trip, I watched a movie called "<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1441912/?ref_=nv_sr_3" target="_blank">The Way</a>". Emilio Estevez wrote, directed, and played a part in the film. And, his father Martin Sheen played his father in the film. Emilio isn't in the film much, his character dies early on in the film while he's attempting to hike the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Way_of_St._James" target="_blank">Camino de Santiago</a>. His father goes to Spain to collect his remains, but decides to walk the pilgrimage. It's a great film and I would recommend it. But, the reason I'm telling you about it is because there are scenes in the film where Martin Sheen's character sees his son along the journey. Not in a ghostly sort of way, or a cheesy "Hey, did you see that!?" sort of way. He just sees his son doing the things his son would have done if he would have hiked the trail, and it brought him peace. In the depth of the grief of losing his son, he found comfort in remembering the things his son loved to do. And, in those moments, he was with his son again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">On the Tiffany Tour, I saw Tiffany. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Again, not in a ghostly sort of way. I just saw her imprint on all the places I stopped along the way. I saw her sitting around the table laughing with us as we told stories over beers. I saw her so happy to see new babies and baby bumps. I saw her relaxing in the cabin that she loved so much. I heard her reprimanding me for bringing up funny/embarrassing memories. She was there.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Most of the time, these feelings brought me happiness. But, sometimes they made me weep like a child as soon as I drove far enough to not be spotted by those I was leaving.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The trip was long. The trip was exhausting. The trip was joyful. The trip was sad. The trip was needed. The trip was worth it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The last night of the tour was in Chicago, where it all began. Julie and Ozzie surprised me by having these shirts made for their softball team. I was blown away. And, they let me first base coach!</span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K60i0pjhhpk/U7HB4zVTM6I/AAAAAAAAAEs/Xntam2Mjgng/s1600/tiff+tour.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K60i0pjhhpk/U7HB4zVTM6I/AAAAAAAAAEs/Xntam2Mjgng/s1600/tiff+tour.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I was home for a week after the Tiffany Tour, then I left again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This time I traveled to Nebraska City, that's in Nebraska. I was there for the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America Campus Ministry Staff Gathering. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I have to tell you, I was STRESSED about leaving for this trip. Many of you know, I'm not the type who stresses out easily. I was stressed about making sure my work was done before I left. I was stressed about working on seminary assignments while I was home. I was stressed about not checking a bag and only bringing a carry-on. I was stressed about going to a conference where I wouldn't know many people.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">When have I ever been stressed about having the opportunity to meet new people?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I used to thrive on that sort of thing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">But, since the accident, since I lost my better half, I've found myself struggling with this on occasion. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">(Side story that coincides with the bigger story I'm trying to tell: I became self aware about this struggle a couple of months ago. I went to visit my friends Kate and Matt in Springfield, OH. While I was there, I got to meet some super rad people and I had an awesome time. It wasn't until I was driving home from that trip that I had realized that it was the first time since the accident that I had really met new people. Like, actually met and hung out with new people. That trip really helped me realize that even though part of me had died, there's still a lot of me left. There's still enough of me left to maintain my identity, there's still enough of me worth meeting. I've never had a low feeling of self worth, it's just that I was an only child and I've always felt a need for people to like me. Visiting Kate and Matt, meeting new people, and making new friends really restored a lot of me for me. But, it's still a struggle. Now, back to the story I was trying to tell...)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I was stressed about going to Nebraska. But, I knew that I just needed to get to Nebraska. I knew that if I could get to Nebraska I'd be fine.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I got to Nebraska.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I met super rad people.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I had an awesome time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But, I knew that part of the difficulty of meeting new people was going to be that if I really got to know them I would have to share my story. The last six months are a pretty big part of my story.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">When you meet new people, you never really know how to ruin the conversation by telling them that you're widowed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But, just like when I met my new friends in Springfield, my new friends in Nebraska were cool about it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">One such interaction stands out in my mind.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In this blog, I've spoken about some of the awful things that people with the best intentions say to you in your time of loss.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This is not one of those occasions.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">On the last night of the trip, I was hanging out with some folks I'd spent the better part of the week with and the conversation turned to some of my tattoos. So, naturally, I had to explain why I have my tattoo in memory of Tiffany. I hadn't shared Tiffany's death with the two guys I was talking to throughout the conference.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Naturally, caught off guard by what I had just told them. One of the guys just looked at me and said, "I love you, man."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In times of great loss, in times of deep grief, words fail us.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But, love never does...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Love never fails.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Grace, Peace, and Love to you all,</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Robert</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">P.S. I guess I should share that I had another dream. But, not the same kind of dream. This was an in-betweener. This one was too telling to be just an ordinary dream, but not nearly as strong as the dream/vision that inspired my tattoo.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I was staying with Brian and Rachel in Indy when I got back from Nebraska. I had a dream where Tiffany was riding in my new truck with me. Obviously, she never got to see my new truck. But, she knew I wanted a Ridgeline the whole time we were together.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">We were in the truck, and she was happy. She was laughing and smiling. And, I remember thinking in the dream, "Tiffany must not have died in the accident." But, something wasn't all the way right. Tiffany wasn't all the way there. We weren't really interacting. But, I was just so happy to be with her and see her happy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">But, I couldn't find a place to park. Over and over again, I tried to park, and I couldn't.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Then I woke up. And, I remembered that she was gone.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But, I wasn't sad when I woke up. I was happy. The dream helped me realize that she's still with me, she just isn't all the way here. (Not nearly with me as much as I want her to be)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And, I know that wherever she is, she's happy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I thank God that the veil can be so thin sometimes...</span></div>
Robert Abnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16726210017320352821noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673171587452634374.post-18128681705683338162014-06-22T11:29:00.001-07:002014-06-22T11:29:54.425-07:00Checking in<span style="font-size: large;">It's been a month since I've posted, I've broken my rule of posting once a week.</span><div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">However, I've been on the move. As many of you read in the previous post, I was on the Tiffany Tour for two and a half weeks. There will be a reflection post about that in the near future.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I've been home for a week. But, now I'm leaving for Nebraska for a campus ministry staff gathering.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'll be home for two weeks after that. Then I'll be in Tennessee for vacation, followed by South Dakota for vacation. Both will be awesome.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">However, all this busyness is a reminder that life goes on. It's a blessing and a curse that life goes on. Sometimes we welcome it, sometimes we're not ready for it. You can either get on the train or stand on the tracks.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'll write a real post in a week, hold me to it.</span></div>
Robert Abnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16726210017320352821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673171587452634374.post-40526239399427140112014-05-26T18:16:00.000-07:002014-05-26T18:16:13.431-07:00Tiffany Tour 2014<span style="font-size: large;">Later this week, I will be embarking on a trip that I've affectionately titled "Tiffany Tour 2014: Laughs, Tears, and Beers.</span><div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">One week from today I start my final session of classes at Luther Seminary in Saint Paul, Minnesota. My seminary experience has been a blessing, fruitful experience. However, the journey didn't go quite like I had planned. It's hard to believe how much my life has changed since I began classes. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But, finishing my classes is finishing a journey that Tiffany and I started together. It's upholding our vision, it's finishing a goal that we set. It's remaining faithful to the vocation that God called me to. It's trusting that God has sustained me through this terribly heartbreaking final leg of the journey.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I finish my classes for Tiffany as much as for myself. Because I know it is what she would want for me. I know that she would want me to continue working on building God's Kingdom. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">However, seminary is only one part of the journey I will be embarking on in the upcoming weeks.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I've taken vacation time before and after seminary in order to make the drive to and from Minnesota at a leisurely pace.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Along the way, I will be stopping to visit and stay with Tiffany and I's friends and family. (Hence the creative name of the journey) I cannot wait to see many wonderful people along the way. However, I make no illusions that this will be an easy trip. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This will be emotional.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This will be exhausting.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But ultimately, it will be worth it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It is important for me to honor and maintain the relationships with others that Tiffany and I had together. Maintaining these relationships is not some sort of dreadful obligation, it is a joyous reaction to the love and friendship I found in these relationships.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">In some small way, we can keep parts of Tiffany alive for one another.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It may not be much, but it's all we've got.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In grief's lonely exile, you hold onto what you've got. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Here's an outline of the trip:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">5/28- Leave Indiana and travel to Chicago to spend the evening with Kendra and Patrick</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">5/29- Leave Chicago and travel to Iowa to stay with Erin and Ben</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">5/31- Leave Iowa and head to the Twin Cities to spend time with Bryan, Stephen, and Poppa Thorsell</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">6/2-6/7- Seminary Classes</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">6/8 & 6/9- Go to the Cabin in Northern Minnesota with Bryan, Stephen, and Poppa Thorsell</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">6/10- Head to "The U.P." and stay with Lindsey and Kurt</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">6/11- Travel to Watertown, WI to stay with Emily and Kyle</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">6/12- Venture down to Kenosha, WI to stay with Ashley and Brian</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">6/13- Make the short trek back to Chicago to stay with Julie and Ozzie, and hopefully see Laurie and Dave</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">6/14- Return to beautiful Bryant, IN</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Did you keep up with all of that?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Neither did I.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I will be blogging intermittently along the way. Perhaps short, succinct blogs that get to the point. (I'm not typically know for brevity) </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Please continue to keep me in your prayers. Believe me, they continually to strengthen and sustain me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'll see y'all down the road...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Grace and Peace,</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Robert</span></div>
Robert Abnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16726210017320352821noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673171587452634374.post-18360062818190254262014-05-19T14:29:00.000-07:002014-05-19T14:29:17.174-07:00That Night<span style="font-size: large;">I wondered if I would ever get around to writing this post.</span><div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I wasn't sure if it was necessary. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">But, a lot of time has passed, and I'm realizing that people still want to know what happened the night of the accident.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I told the story in person to most of the folks I felt needed to hear it in person. I've also shared it with people who have asked.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I don't mind people asking. I now understand that not knowing, can be just as hard as knowing. Some people need the closure of hearing the story.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, for those of you who need the closure, I share the saddest story I will ever tell.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We needed a new couch.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Tiffany's old brown couch from her apartment had been taken over by Jax and it was unfit for guest use. A friend that she worked with was getting rid of her nice couch to get new furniture, so she offered us the couch for free.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We borrowed a truck from some friends in the church, loaded up the old couch to take to Goodwill, and we made our way to Muncie.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We were originally planning on making the trip the previous Friday. But, after a day of work, and a bad weather forecast, we decided to postpone until Sunday.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Upon arriving in Muncie, we dropped the couch off at Goodwill and proceeded to go out for dinner. Eating out in Muncie was always a highlight for Tiffany. Between living in Bryant and working in Gas City, she wasn't afforded the opportunity to sit down to a nice dinner very often.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">After dinner, we went to her friend/co-workers house. We loaded up the couch and began our journey home. The weather wasn't "bad", the condensation in the air was so inconsequential that we opted to not cover the couch with the tarp we had purchased.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I was concerned about the possibility of some of the couch cushions flying out of the truck bed. So, we pulled into Hi-Way 3 hardware on the edge of town and she grabbed a couple of them. She placed one between us on the bench seat, and she held one in her lap and she remarked, "This oughta keep me safe."</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Driving slowly and steadily, so as to not lose the remaining couch cushions in the truck bed, we made our way to Portland.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Again, the weather hadn't presented any threat. I never lost traction or felt unsafe.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">As we made our way North out of Portland, we were having a laugh about some of the low rent motels on that side of town. We wondered, who would ever stay at these places?</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Right after that, Tiffany turned to me and said "Wouldn't it suck if this thing (the truck) rolled?"</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Before I could jokingly give her a smart assed answer about how the truck wouldn't roll or it's built tough enough to be safe either way...</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">We hit black ice.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I wasn't even up to the speed limit coming out of Portland. The curve is so slight you'd never take notice of it. I wasn't texting. I wasn't drunk. I wasn't distracted.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">We hit black ice. And, I lost the rear end of the truck.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">As I tried to regain control, my only thought was to avoid the telephone pole. I thought driving into the field wouldn't be a problem, hitting the pole would be. Either way, I had no control over what happened.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">We hit the only spot of the field where there was a slight embankment, and that caused the truck to roll. I'm told that the insurance agent called it a slow roll, which is the worst kind.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">We rolled one and a half times and came to rest upside down.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I couldn't see Tiffany because the couch cushion was between us.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">She wouldn't respond to me shouting her name.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I hoped she was unconscious. But, she was already gone. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I hope that you, like me, can find some small, small comfort in knowing that she died instantly and she didn't suffer.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">My left clavicle was broken, but I was determined to get to my wife. My phone was gone, so I couldn't call for help. So, I reached into my left pocket with my right hand and retrieved my pocket knife. I used it to cut myself out of the seatbelt. Much to my dismay, I couldn't climb out of the driver side window, the cab was too smashed in.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Someone, who I never saw the face of, showed up relatively soon. I told him I was okay and I begged him to check on my wife. This man was smart enough to dial 911 first. He then went to check on Tiffany, and he said that he couldn't see her. This was not a good sign.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">The emergency crew arrived within minutes as I continued to call her name, praying that she would respond.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Zach, the son-in-law of the people whose truck I was driving was one of the first responders. He was the first person that made me feel safe.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">It took a while for them to get me out of the truck. They had to secure it so that it wouldn't collapse more as they cut me out. The moment they pulled me out, I tried to crawl back in for my wife. But, the effort was short-lived, there was a lot more of them than there was of me and they held me down to the stretcher and strapped me in. They were doing their job.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I was placed in an ambulance where I was placed in a neck brace and given a shot of morphine. They said they had to take me to Decatur because Portland was full. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I asked the emergency worker one time. I asked him to shoot me straight about Tiffany. He said it didn't look good. I didn't ask him again. If he knew she was gone, I wasn't going to make him tell me, and I wasn't going to hear it from him.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Decatur wouldn't take me because they were afraid my injuries were too severe. (They weren't) So, they had to take me to Fort Wayne. They asked if I wanted to go to Parkview or Lutheran. I told them I liked the name Lutheran better.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">We got to the hospital, they looked me over, and they x-rayed me. A woman came in to get my insurance info and she asked who my emergency contact was, I said, "At this point, I don't know." That's when it really sank in and I began to cry. This woman, who I saw as a vulture preying on me in my time of weakness asking me about insurance and how I plan on paying the bills, looked over her shoulder to see who was around, and then asked if she could pray with me. She didn't have to do that. I'm so thankful she did.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Not long after that, Zach showed up with my friend and mentor pastor, Mark Strietelmeier. Mark took me by the hand and looked me in the eye. I looked him hard in the eye and I said, "You tell me what you know."</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">He said, "Robert, she's gone." And then he held me as I wept bitterly.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Not long after that, my parents arrived. God love them, they had to drive all the way from Richmond to Fort Wayne in weather that had gotten worse, not knowing what shape they were going to find me in and dealing with the news about Tiffany. We were all devastated.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">We lingered in the emergency room long enough to collect ourselves for the drive home. Then we left.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Now you know about that night.</span></div>
Robert Abnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16726210017320352821noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673171587452634374.post-78832907672437091542014-05-11T09:12:00.000-07:002014-05-11T09:12:25.651-07:00Mother's Day Lamentations<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">One of the most difficult things about grief is that you
never know when it’s going to hit you.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">This has been a tough morning.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I didn’t think Mother’s Day would be another painful first,
but it is.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Tiffany wasn’t a mother, therein lies the source of my
grief. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">The fact that we didn’t have any children has been a double
edged sword. On the one hand, I couldn’t imagine how much more difficult this
would be if I had another human life dependent upon me. But, on the other hand,
it would have been another piece of her that would have lived on.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Tiffany should have had the chance to become a mother; she
would have been a wonderful mom. She loved kids so much. She loved her days
working at the daycare, she loved the kids she worked with as a school
psychologist, and most of all, she loved all the kids that her friends and
family members were having in recent years.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Her face would just light up anytime there was a baby
nearby.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">So many of her/our friends are pregnant now, and it brings
me such joy and sorrow. It’s not fair that she doesn’t get to be around to
share in the joy with them. It’s not fair that she doesn’t get to be here,
pregnant alongside them. It’s not fair that I won’t get to go on late night
food runs to fulfill whatever obscure craving she’s having that evening.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">But, what about any of this has been fair?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">However, I do give thanks that this is the first Mother’s
Day that she doesn’t have to miss her dear mother, for she is with her.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I will end the lamenting here. I started this post before
church, and now that I’ve joined my friends in giving glory to God, I’m feeling
better. I leave now to visit my own mother and take her out to lunch. Then, I
get to go to Indy to see Brian, Rachel, Miles, and Jax. Oh Jax, the closest thing
to a child that Tiffany had. I love seeing him, but I weep like a child for the
first few minutes. But, don’t worry, I’m smiling through those tears.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Happy Mother’s Day to all you mothers, and baby’s momma’s
mommas…</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Grace and Peace,</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Robert</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">P.S. Here's one of the last photos I ever took of Tiffany. This was Thanksgiving. She's holding her cousin Kevin's baby and Jax is checking everything out.</span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-l0CBR7g4_GM/U2-hImqzLhI/AAAAAAAAAEY/iOYrUYdCTQA/s1600/Tiff+Oaklynn+Jax.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-l0CBR7g4_GM/U2-hImqzLhI/AAAAAAAAAEY/iOYrUYdCTQA/s1600/Tiff+Oaklynn+Jax.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
Robert Abnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16726210017320352821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673171587452634374.post-15363508810424666982014-05-04T20:29:00.001-07:002014-05-04T20:29:36.112-07:00Thank You, Indianapolis.<span style="font-size: large;">Last August, I had the privilege of being the emcee for an event that churches in my area worked on putting together. The event was called "Faith, Family, and Football". The event was centered around a very special guest, Josh Bleill. Josh is a double amputee veteran of the War in Iraq, he now works for the Indianapolis Colts as a community/motivational/inspirational speaker. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Here's a photo of Josh and I.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-15hRd9Za2pY/U2byhGYDYTI/AAAAAAAAADo/liJW_voQfyM/s1600/josh+bleill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-15hRd9Za2pY/U2byhGYDYTI/AAAAAAAAADo/liJW_voQfyM/s1600/josh+bleill.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Josh speaks to crowds varying in size from a classroom of first graders to a few thousand people in auditoriums. He delivers a message of hope, perseverance, and working hard to get back on your feet after you've been knocked down. You can check out his book "One Step at a Time" <a href="http://www.colts.com/fanzone/josh-bliel-one-step-at-a-time.html" target="_blank">here</a>, I enjoyed reading it.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Some folks from my church had seen him speak before and they were very moved by his story. So, they felt called to put together an event in our neck of the woods featuring Josh as the speaker.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The event was awesome. We had wonderful musical acts, another special guest speaker, and a color guard. I believe there were roughly 1,000 people in attendance. Josh delivered a wonderful speech that night, and we were all very thankful to have heard it.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I really enjoyed meeting Josh and spending time with him.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">As you can imagine, in the days and weeks following the accident, I remembered Josh's story as I found myself taking life one step at a time.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">To be honest, I'm still taking life one step at a time most days.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Something else also happened in the days and weeks following the accident. A member of my congregation wrote to Josh. She felt that Josh and I had made a good connection and she was compelled to let him know what happened. If anything, so that he could keep us all in his prayers. Josh's secretary wrote back to say that Josh was very sorry to hear the news, that we would be in his prayers, and he wanted my address.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Unrelated to Josh, the event, or my church, a good friend of mine reached out to the Colts. He wanted to let them know that a big fan had suffered a big loss in their life, so he wrote to them.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I'm unaware of when either letter was sent. Nor, did I know they were even written. But on January 23rd, I came home to a package from Colts Headquarters, and this letter was included.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Yr5Kv_SU5Eg/U2b5T4HWtHI/AAAAAAAAAD4/VXbNsWrchNo/s1600/Colts+Letter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Yr5Kv_SU5Eg/U2b5T4HWtHI/AAAAAAAAAD4/VXbNsWrchNo/s1600/Colts+Letter.jpg" height="640" width="496" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Needless to say, I was floored.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I had my suspicions about how this very special letter came to be, so I called the member of my congregation to ask if she knew anything about it. She then told me her story.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">After texting the image to my friends, my friend let me know that he had written the Colts as well.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Y'all sure know how to make a guy feel loved.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">But, let's talk about that letter.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Wow, just wow.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I don't know who wrote the letter, as you can see it's not signed by any individual. I don't know if Josh wrote it, if a chaplain wrote it, or Hell, maybe Jim Irsay wrote it.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I don't know who wrote it, but I'm so thankful for their thoughtful words.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Let's be honest, this not a form letter. This was not an "auto-reply". Someone took their time. This came from the heart.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I still choke up more often than not when I read the letter. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I'd like to highlight two lines in particular.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">1- "We pray you will continue to have the strength to focus on the vision you and Tiffany had for your lives together."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I think about this a lot. On my hardest days, I try to remember the vision that we had for life. That vision included my completion of seminary and continuing to serve my two congregations. That vision is still alive, that vision I can continue. I celebrate that vision.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">But, there's also a vision I can't continue. The vision of our lives together, the vision of having children, the vision of growing old together. I grieve the loss of that vision.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">However, a colleague pointed out that perhaps I could honor that vision by one day remarrying and having children. (No time soon, of course.) It would not be the vision of Tiffany and I, but it would honor the vision we had together. If Tiffany loved me and believed in me enough to share life and children with me, then perhaps I can honor that vision by becoming the husband and father she knew I could be. It's a heavy, daunting thought and I'm still navigating it. Difficult as it may be, I'm glad he brought it to my attention.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">2- "We hope that the qualities you admire most in Tiffany will live on in you and the world will be better for it."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">After reading this, I feel like I need to recite the words from the Affirmation of Baptism, "I will, and I ask God to help and guide me."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Oh, that I could live out the qualities of my better half.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">On the one hand, so much of me was her and so much of her was me. We fit together like a hand in a glove.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">But, on the other hand. She was the most empathetic, caring, and genuinely loving person that I've ever known. And, even on my best days, I could never come close to filling her shoes.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">But, God help me, I will try to do the best I can. She made the world a better place, she carried the love of God everywhere she went.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I could never begin to fill all the voids caused by her absence. I can only try to be a reflection of her love, which itself was a reflection of God's love.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The letter, and the thought and care that went into it's manifestation mean so much to me. I had the letter framed and I've placed it where I can see it everyday.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IXNYbL8dOIw/U2cDvZ35EsI/AAAAAAAAAEI/nuNsRl4CaDs/s1600/framed+letter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IXNYbL8dOIw/U2cDvZ35EsI/AAAAAAAAAEI/nuNsRl4CaDs/s1600/framed+letter.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I don't read it everyday, but I know it's always there. It's always working to motivate and encourage me.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">And for that, I could not be more grateful.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Thank you, Carol and Brian.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Thank you, Josh Bleill.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Thank you, Indianapolis Colts.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Grace, mercy, and peace to you all,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Robert</span>Robert Abnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16726210017320352821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673171587452634374.post-78059741395980606822014-04-27T18:36:00.000-07:002014-04-27T18:36:02.736-07:00A little story that coincides with the big story. <span style="font-size: large;">This is not a cop out post, but it is a republication. </span><div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Honestly, I had no time to write today. Not only did I not have time to write, there was no pressing issue that needed to be written about.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">But, isn't that kind of the point? Shouldn't I be glad for a day that I don't feel the need to write the blog?</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">This blog exists for the purpose of releasing some of the thoughts rattling around in my head. And, don't get me wrong, there are still lots of things to write about. But, that day was not today.</span></div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I just came off of a fantastic weekend spent with friends, family, and a church community that welcomed me as a guest.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">But, I wanted to share some writing I did back in February. It was part of my church's newsletter, and I shared it on Facebook. It's an important message to share. So, I figured today would be a good day to share it...</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;">
<span style="font-size: large;">February 2014</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Dear Friends,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Grace and Peace to you in the name of our risen Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">On Wednesday, January 15<sup>th</sup>, one of my former students sent me a text message to ask if I had any lunch plans for the following day because he’d like to come up from Indy and take me out to lunch. I didn’t have any plans, so I told him I would love to meet him for lunch. What he didn’t know at the time was that the following day was Tiffany’s Birthday, another one of those painful firsts that I was preparing to face. So, naturally, I was trying to find ways to fill my day in Muncie by surrounding myself with those who care about and support me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Thursday came, and so did another blanketing of snow. My student sent me a text to let me know he was leaving home and that he may be a little delayed by the snow. I told him to drive safely and not take any chances. About ten minutes later, he called to let me know that he had pulled off of the interstate and he was going to make his way back home. The snow had made the roads too dangerous for his car to traverse. Of course, I completely understood. At that point, he shared with me that something had moved him to text me the night before. <u>He didn’t know that Thursday was Tiffany’s birthday.</u> He said he was sitting with his wife and brother Wednesday night and something urged him to text me, something told him that I could use some company for lunch the next day.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Friends, those of us who follow the Triune God would call this the Holy Spirit. I believe it was the Holy Spirit who moved through my student and encouraged him to reach out to me on this particular day. Because, Lord knows, I needed some company. (Don’t worry, I found another friend to join me for lunch.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But, we may ask, what of the snow? What of the weather? If the Holy Spirit moved my student to keep company with me on a day that I needed it, why would a snow storm dash our plans? Why would God <u>allow</u> a snowstorm to prevent us from getting together?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">To that, I say, thank God for the gift of the Holy Spirit and the knowledge that it still moves. But, the reality is, that snow and rain still fall. Ice forms on roads and hurricanes make landfall along coasts. In Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus says that the sun shines on the evil and on the good, and it rains on the righteous and the unrighteous. It is not that God <u>causes </u>these things to happen; it is just the natural world we live in.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">God’s Holy Spirit supports and guides us, but the world presents obstacles and disasters that will stand in our way. This does not mean God has abandoned us or caused these things to happen, it’s just the reality of the natural world around us; a world that joins us in longing for restoration, a world that waits with us for the day that all things will be made new.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Blessings,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Vicar Robert</span></div>
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Robert Abnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16726210017320352821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673171587452634374.post-6777436038297905342014-04-20T15:36:00.000-07:002014-04-20T15:36:21.773-07:00Do not be afraid.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YCP4s3iKUJA/U1Q1hvLWilI/AAAAAAAAADY/_-kYLceWlns/s1600/grief+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YCP4s3iKUJA/U1Q1hvLWilI/AAAAAAAAADY/_-kYLceWlns/s1600/grief+2.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm starting to get concerned that if I keep quoting C.S. Lewis on here I'm going to have to give a nickel to his publishers for each hit the blog gets.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Do me a favor, don't rat me out.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But yes, grief does feel like fear in some respects. Uneasiness, unsettled-ness, uncertainty, never knowing what happens next, the inability to relax...the list could go on.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Not only does grief feel like fear. There is, in fact, a lot of fear in the grieving process.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The fear that your loved one didn't know how much you loved them.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The fear that you could have loved them more.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The fear that you have somehow failed them.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The fear that you have to continue life without them.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The fear that you will never see them again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The fear that the resurrection or the afterlife may not look like what you had planned.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The fear that there could be no resurrection or afterlife. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">(C'mon folks, don't be so surprised. If you've never considered the possibility that your belief system is merely a belief system, you haven't properly challenged your belief system. But, believe me, even when you've assessed that your house is built upon the rock, the storms can still get pretty nasty.</span><span style="font-size: large;">)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Yes, my friends, there is a lot of fear associated with grief.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It is because of this fear that I find so much consolation in the resurrection story in Matthew's Gospel account.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Two of the Marys, there were lots of Marys, were going down to the tomb on the morning of the resurrection. It doesn't say why they were going. Were they going to grieve? Or, were they going to investigate?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">On the way there, there was a large and sudden earthquake. An angel of the Lord appeared, the angel opened the tomb and sat on it. Weird, I know, I can explain the significance another time. The Roman guards at the tomb freaked out and passed out.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It's a pretty intense scene. So, it should come as no surprise that the first words out of the angel's mouth were "Do not be afraid."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">These women are stricken with grief, either looking for Jesus or coming to weep at His tomb, they just felt an earthquake, they just saw an angel, and they just saw Roman soldiers (tough dudes) pass out from fear.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And...the angel's first words are "Do not be afraid."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Easier said than done.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">He goes on to say that Jesus is risen, and he'll meet them in Galilee.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The women left quickly with fear and great joy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Fear AND Great Joy, kinda like when you're about to get on a roller-coaster.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">They don't get far until they are suddenly met by the risen Christ. He greets them, they fall at His feet. His first words to them..."Do not be afraid."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I think we're onto something here.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">First of all, let's recognize that these women were pretty brave. They had the guts to go to the tomb on the day that the resurrection was supposed to occur, a tomb being guarded by the Romans.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Where was the rest of the gang? Hiding. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Why? Because they were afraid.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Why were they afraid?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">They just saw their leader get beaten to a pulp and nailed to a cross.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Their guy lost.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The Jewish authorities and the Romans were not big fans of these Jesus followers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">They weren't sure that this whole resurrection thing was going to work out. (Neither was Jesus, for that matter. Remember the garden at Gethsemane? Remember His last words from the cross?)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The disciples were afraid. The women were afraid. And, what are Jesus' first words? "<u>Do not be afraid.</u>"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This is the same Jesus who suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The same Jesus who descended to the dead. And, who has now on the third day rose again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And, what does this guy have to say? "Do not be afraid."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I know it's easier said than done, but I like where Jesus is going with this.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then, that got me thinking. Where else does Jesus tell us not to be afraid?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Before His crucifixion and death, Jesus nails it on the head.</span><span class="text John-14-1" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="text John-14-1" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe<span class="footnote" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="[<a href="#fen-NRSV-26659a" title="See footnote a">a</a>]"></span> in God, believe also in me. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"></span><span class="text John-14-2" id="en-NRSV-26660" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?<span class="footnote" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="[<a href="#fen-NRSV-26660b" title="See footnote b">b</a>]"></span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"></span><span class="text John-14-3" id="en-NRSV-26661" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"></span><span class="text John-14-4" id="en-NRSV-26662" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">And you know the way to the place where I am going.”<span class="footnote" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="[<a href="#fen-NRSV-26662c" title="See footnote c">c</a>]"></span> -John 14:1-4</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid." -John 14:27</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Jesus knew the disciples would be afraid. Jesus knows that we have fears. Perhaps that's why he took some pretty opportune moments to remind people to not be afraid.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the midst of my grief this week, these texts have given me peace. Pre-Crucifixion Jesus and Post-Resurrection Jesus both remind us to not be afraid.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Again, I know it's easier said than done. But, I've been giving it my best shot.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I believe in the resurrection.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I believe that the pain of grief, and the fear it brings, will never defeat the hope of resurrection.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Easter blessings to you all.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Grace and Peace,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Robert</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">*Bonus*</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Here's a decent choral arrangement for the hymn, "You Are Mine".</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Do not be afraid I am with you</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I have called you each by name</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Come and Follow Me</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I will bring you Home</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I love you and you are Mine</span></div>
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Robert Abnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16726210017320352821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673171587452634374.post-50015171562661042132014-04-13T13:48:00.001-07:002014-04-13T13:48:35.701-07:00God won't give you more than you can handle?<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">You have heard people say, "God won't give you more than you can handle." It has probably been said to you when you were facing a particularly tough time in your life. Don't be upset when people say it, they're only trying to be helpful. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Some people like to get a laugh out of it by adding, "I know that God won't give me more than I can handle, I just wish He didn't trust me so much."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Yet, the expression is still a little off. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I've seen images like this a few times, it's a little closer to being accurate.</span></div>
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I've read several good articles and blog posts on this very subject. So, I want to voice my perspective on this platitude and try not to be too repetitive about what others have already said better than me.</div>
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First off, let's explore its origin. Many people will qualify this statement by opening with "You know, the Bible says..." or by saying "Well, it's in the Bible..."</div>
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I've learned over the years, that when people say things like this, you should probably check the Bible to see if it's actually there. Then, if it actually is there, you should check the context in which it was written.</div>
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It may come as a surprise to you when I tell you that this statement is not in the Bible. At least, not the way it is commonly said or applied. It is taken from a verse in 1 Corinthians that has gone through a bad game of "telephone".</div>
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1 Corinthians 10:13</div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">"No temptation</span><span class="footnote" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="[<a href="#fen-NIV-28581c" title="See footnote c">c</a>]"></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> has overtaken you except what is common to mankind. And God is faithful;</span><span class="crossreference" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-28581U" title="See cross-reference U">U</a>)"></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> he will not let you be tempted</span><span class="footnote" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="[<a href="#fen-NIV-28581d" title="See footnote d">d</a>]"></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> beyond what you can bear.</span><span class="crossreference" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-28581V" title="See cross-reference V">V</a>)"></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> But when you are tempted,</span><span class="footnote" style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="[<a href="#fen-NIV-28581e" title="See footnote e">e</a>]"></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it."</span></div>
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This verse appears in the middle of a passage that is discussing idolatry and the temptation to engage in acts that lead to idolatry. (You can check it out for yourself, since I just told you to verify when someone tells you what's in the Bible.)</div>
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It's quite a bit different from "God won't give you more than you can handle.", isn't it? Perhaps it's not far off if someone says it to you when you're facing temptation. But, it doesn't really apply to most of the situations in which you hear it.</div>
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I've heard this said to people fighting cancer.</div>
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I've heard this said to people who have been the victims of abuse.</div>
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It's always said to people who are grieving.</div>
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I'm here to tell you friends, in these scenarios and many more, you will face more than you can handle.</div>
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But, I'm getting ahead of myself. Before we get to what you can or can't handle. Let's go back to that first line. "God won't give you..." There is a fundamental problem with the opening of this platitude. You are implying that God has given this affliction to people. You are implying that God gave them cancer...for a reason. (If you've read my earlier blog posts, you already know my disdain for "<u>everything</u> happens for a reason") Furthermore, you are implying that God gives us the horrible situations in our lives. As if God finds pleasure in "giving" us trials and tribulations. You are implying that people who have been abused were abused for some greater purpose. You are implying that God is a jerk.</div>
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It is important to understand that God does not "give us" the terrible things that happen in our lives. We live in a natural world, we have free will, others do too. Terrible and unspeakable things can happen to us in this otherwise beautiful world. Unfortunately, shit happens. Oftentimes, there is no "answer" for it.</div>
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But, as I've said before. You don't have to agree with me on these theological stances. If it makes you feel better to believe that God is giving you all the crap in your life, please feel free to carry on believing as such.</div>
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But, let me tell you about the God I believe in. I believe in the God who gave sight to the blind, not the one who struck them with blindness.* I believe in the God who allowed the crippled to walk, not the one who made them lame for a reason. I believe in the God who raised people to new life, not the God who struck them dead for a greater purpose. I believe in the God who shows up in our weakness, not the God who causes it.</div>
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Things will happen to you in this world that will be impossible for you to handle alone. I believe in the God who shows up to help you handle it. I believe in the God who fills you with the Holy Spirit. I believe in the God who fills others with the Holy Spirit and inspires them to surround you with love and support.</div>
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If you are going through hard times right now, please know that God is not heaping calamity upon you. Trust in the God who gets us through hard times, not in a god who causes them.</div>
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Grace and Peace,</div>
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Robert </div>
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*Some of you may point to the story of the blind man in John 9 as an example of how God gave blindness to the man so that God's work could be done. Kudos to you if you remembered that. Unfortunately, the NRSV and NIV translate the story to sound like God gave this man his blindness as though it was all leading up to the day that Jesus would cure him. However, a closer examination of the original Greek and other translations KJV, LB, Message, reveal that the punctuation and translation make a big difference. Instead, it is revealed to be a story of the importance of doing God's work, not asking who is to blame.</div>
</span>Robert Abnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16726210017320352821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673171587452634374.post-47136113397206616732014-04-06T15:15:00.000-07:002014-04-06T15:15:02.358-07:00Dreams, Visions, Tattoos, etc.<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">(Caution: We're going to explore some far out places today. I'm venturing into the world of dreams and visions. I've shared these stories with very few people up until this point. The stories have helped some and brought them peace. However, the stories have been difficult for some people to hear, whether they found comfort in them or not. Read ahead at your own risk and have your tissues ready.</span><div>
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">P.S. Some of you may think I'm crazy after you read this. I don't blame you.)</span><div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It's not often that someone talks about being visited by their deceased loved ones while they are sleeping. I believe these stories aren't shared for two reasons. Number one, you believe you're crazy. Number two, others will believe you are crazy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Honestly, it's all pretty crazy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">However, dreams have been powerful and influential since the beginning of time. Dreams and visions are discussed in every major religion and they've been used throughout history in myth and folklore. People have tried to interpret them and psychoanalyze them. People have followed these dreams and visions to achieve great things, but people have also cited dreams as reasons for carrying out heinous acts...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Dear friends, I must admit, I've always been a skeptic when it comes to dreams. I've always believed that they were merely our subconscious playing out while we sleep. If you told me about an important dream you had that changed the course of your life, I probably thought you were crazy. (I do apologize for that.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Furthermore, I must also admit that while I am hopelessly devoted to the teachings of Jesus of Nazareth and constantly trying to live into them for the sake of God and neighbor, I am pretty bad at believing in the mystical side of my faith. I believe in the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting. I believe in a man who died and rose again three days later. I believe that Christ is truly present in the sacraments. And, I believe that the Holy Spirit moves and works through all of us. However, I'm trying to follow a pre-modern, Middle Eastern Rabbi in a post-enlightenment, post-modern, Western civilization. Some things are still hard to believe, even when you do take them on faith. Some of these things are even harder to believe in when they don't directly apply to the teachings of Jesus or our ability to live out those teachings.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, what then, is a man to do with dreams? I had never given much thought to it. Jesus never discusses dreams in the Gospel accounts. However, dreams are mentioned by the author of Matthew's Gospel. An Angel of the Lord appears to Joseph and instructs him in a few dreams. And, interestingly enough, Pilate discusses a dream that his wife had had about Jesus. Outside of this, dreams and visions do play a significant role throughout the entire Bible. (Peter, Paul, Joseph in Egypt, many prophets, and that often misinterpreted yet beautifully written Apocalyptic letter at the end of the New Testament...just to name a few.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But, again, let's remember my skepticism about dreams and other mystical things. Upon reading C.S. Lewis' "A Grief Observed", I discovered that he too had a dream/vision/visit from his deceased wife. His sentiments going into the experience were much the same as mine, "I said, several notebooks ago, that even if I got what seemed like an assurance of my wife's presence, I wouldn't believe it. Easier said than done. Even now, though, I won’t treat anything of that sort as evidence. It’s the quality of last night’s experience—not what it proves but what it was—that makes it worth putting down."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, all of that being said, let's proceed to the dreams/visions. (I'm sure you were all wondering when I would get to the point.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">One last question, is there a difference between dreams and visions? Are dreams our subconscious playing out, while visions are given to us by God? Are they interchangeable? Are they one in the same? I'll let you decide that for yourself.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The first two dreams were not mine. I recount them here with permission.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Tiffany's good friend Emily texted me on December 22nd, 2 weeks after the accident, to tell me about her dream. This is the conversation:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I was really shook up when I received this text. Granted, it was only two weeks after the accident. But, I didn't know what to think about it. Was this a real thing? Was Emily visited by Tiffany? Or, did God give Emily this vision? Or, was this Emily's subconscious merely giving her some of the closure she needed?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm sure you can imagine where I landed after I had a few days to think about it. I <u>was</u> sure that this was Emily's subconscious giving her what she needed. Surely, we are not visited by our deceased loved ones in our dreams. Surely, God does not grant these visions to us common folk...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But, then it happened again. Tiffany's friend Julie sent me a text message on January 4th recounting a dream/vision that she had had. Here is that conversation.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">*Cue the Twilight Zone Music*</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Okay, now things were getting weird.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Two friends, with two different dreams.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The message that she's okay being portrayed in both dreams.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And, what about how Tiffany would not allow Julie to hug her or touch her, it bares an odd resemblance to Jesus appearing to Mary Magdalene after the resurrection in John's Gospel when He told her to not "hold onto" Him because He had not yet ascended to the father.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And, let's face it, if I were looking for "proof", would I have to look any further than the fact that she asked Julie to get me a beer. C'mon folks...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I was paying attention now. I didn't know what it all meant. I didn't think it was a "smoking gun" to prove the afterlife or the intercessory actions of our loved ones. But, I was starting to find comfort instead of confusion from this whole dream business.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then, I had my dream. And, I can't even call it a dream. It was a vision, it was a visit, it was something more than my "subconscious" playing out. I believe this because Tiffany has been in my simple dreams, in those dreams she's a character playing a role. In the simple dreams we have rehearsed lines and our interactions are nothing more than our typical day to day business. This vision or visit was so much more. I defer to C.S. Lewis again, "If this was a throw-up from my unconscious, then my unconscious must be a far more interesting region than the depth psychologists have led me to expect. For one thing, it is apparently much less primitive than my consciousness."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">On the morning of January 14th, between 5:30-7 a.m., this event took place while I slept:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I was inside my church, Redeemer Lutheran, standing in the little area between my office and the rear exit of the sanctuary. This is where I stood to receive people after Tiffany's memorial service. The same sort of scene was playing out. People were lined up coming out of the sanctuary, but I don't remember any of their faces. In the middle of receiving these people, I looked up, and Tiffany was standing in the line. She was in the doorway between the sanctuary and the little area in which we were all standing. Of course, I went straight to her. I asked her what she was doing here. She put up her hands and looked around, as if to draw my attention to know that we were standing in the church, and she says, "Where else would I be?" We held each other, then she looked me in the eye, and she said "Love me forever." I told her, "You know I will." I began to cry, then she gave me a kiss. She turned to walk back into the sanctuary, but I stopped her and I said, "I'll be with you soo..."(I started to say soon, but I stopped myself because I didn't want her to think that I was going to take my own life or do something reckless) As I stood there searching for the words to say, she gave me a loving look and a nod as if she knew what I meant to say. Then, she turned and went into the sanctuary. I went in to follow her, but she was gone.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I woke up and wept like a child.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #010000; font-size: large; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">I never had a vision/visit before this one. I haven't had one since.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A few things I've noted about the vision/visit:</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">-I find great significance in Tiffany pointing out that we were in the church. If what we believe is true, where else would she be? And, my friend Claire pointed out, it was strikingly similar to the young Jesus' response to when he was found in the temple by His upset parents in Luke's Gospel <span style="font-family: inherit;">"</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #010000; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #010000; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">-Early on, I wrestled with her message of "Love me Forever". I worried that she thought there was a chance I wouldn't. I've come to believe that it was her way of saying "you will need to carry on with your life, just always keep me with you".</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #010000; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">-The kiss. The kiss was something I needed. It was our last kiss. I could not bring myself to kiss her lifeless body in the casket, I didn't want it to be my last memory of kissing her. The kiss in the dream was as sweet as every kiss we'd shared in our lives together.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #010000; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Do you think I'm crazy yet?</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #010000; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">I love that the dreams/visions came to three people who always maintained a healthy dose of skepticism about dreams/visions.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #010000; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Perhaps it's the very reason they did come to us.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #010000; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">I'm not saying this proves anything. Nor am I saying it was everything I'd hoped and dreamed for.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #010000; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">I am saying it was something. It was too real to ignore. I approach the mystical side of the faith with a little more awe and wonder.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #010000; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Perhaps this doesn't sound so crazy to you because you've had your own dreams/visions/visits with loved ones. You'd be surprised at the stories that I've heard from people after I've shared this with them. It's as though others aren't afraid to share their experiences once they've heard yours. Maybe they feel less crazy, maybe they realize we're both crazy.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #010000; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">So, now you know the source for the text on the tattoo I got to honor Tiffany. The reason for the violin and the purple are both pretty obvious.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Not knowing what else to say, I leave you with the wit and wisdom of Forrest Gump, "That's all I've got to say about that."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Grace and Peace,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Robert</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">P.S. After the dream, the word "Forever" stood out in my mind, and it reminded me of the song "Forever" by the Dropkick Murphys. It speaks to the situation very well. Here's a beautiful acoustic version of the song.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>Robert Abnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16726210017320352821noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673171587452634374.post-62427633913568715362014-03-30T14:05:00.002-07:002014-03-30T14:05:31.736-07:00From a Pig to a Boar<span style="font-size: large;">I've been told that if a domesticated pig leaves the farm and goes into the wild it can transform into feral swine within a matter of months. Their tusks will grow out, their fur will become longer and more coarse, and they will become more aggressive. (I can neither confirm, nor deny this. Internet research swings both ways.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">However, it makes sense. The hog must adapt in order to survive. It no longer lives under the nurturing care of the farmer. It has to find it's own food, it will be exposed to harsh elements.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">More on hogs later.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Before I met Tiffany, I was never a co-dependent person. Sure, I dated some nice girls from time to time. But, I was never someone who HAD to be in a relationship. I had great friends, and I had great family that I spent a lot of time with. I thought they were all I needed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then, I met a beautiful girl from Minnesota and she ruined all of that. (In a good way.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I can clearly recall, in our early days of dating, telling myself that she was great...but I still wasn't one of those co-dependent people.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But, something happened. Something changed. I let her in. I never wanted to be apart from her. I fell in love. I asked her to marry me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I had been tamed. I became domesticated. And, I loved it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Doing the things* I used to do as a bachelor just weren't quite as fun anymore. Wild road trips and adventurous weekends with my friends took a backseat to quiet weeknights spent watching Netflix on the couch. Activities that used to be a way of life became occasional hobbies. This was all by choice, not by force. I didn't change or forsake who I was, I just changed who I wanted to be.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I wanted to be a good husband. I wanted to become a father. I liked being a family man. She brought out the best in me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Now what? Where do I go from here? Everything has changed. This was not the way it was supposed to happen.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">How could I ever go back to being the person I was? In short, the answer is, I never could. Not that there was anything wrong with the person I was, I'm pretty sure people liked that dude too. But, now that I've experienced a fuller and richer life, how do I define joy and happiness in her absence? (Notice I said define. I still experience joy and happiness. But, how do I define it now when so much of my joy and happiness was tied up in sharing it with Tiffany?)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">C.S. Lewis expressed similar despair in his book "A Grief Observed". Lewis was much in the same boat I was, enjoying his bachelorhood and independence until he married a woman to help keep her from being deported. But, he fooled around and fell in love. (H. is the initial used instead of using his deceased wife's full name)</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GCc-l4j0jPs/Uzh8Z24cqsI/AAAAAAAAABo/a3csNnciGV4/s1600/grief+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GCc-l4j0jPs/Uzh8Z24cqsI/AAAAAAAAABo/a3csNnciGV4/s1600/grief+1.jpg" height="264" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Oh God, God, why did you take such trouble to domesticate this creature if only now to reintroduce it to the wild?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Like the domesticated piggies turned feral hogs, I can feel my tusks growing in and I know my fur is getting thicker. (That's a metaphor, not a beard joke.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm doing what I have to do to survive. I'm trying to revisit the fun things from my past that used to bring me joy and happiness. I'm trying to enjoy life without the necessity of sharing it with someone. It's a rough transition, but it's happening.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Though I'm learning to survive in the wild, I have to wonder; Can the feral hog ever be domesticated again? I don't know.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I won't leave you on such a terribly depressing note. I would be remiss if I didn't mention that I'm very thankful for the friends and family who are journeying with me and helping me rediscover a definition of joy and happiness. The concerts, the late nights, the conventions, the future fishing and hunting trips, and all the upcoming plans sure make life a little more enjoyable.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I still don't know where life goes from here. But, I couldn't ask for better people to help me figure it out. (or, help me make it up as we go along) </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">After all, pigs do run in herds. (That's meant to be endearing, not insulting.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Grace and Peace,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Robert</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">(*Not to be listed here in order to avoid self incrimination.)</span>Robert Abnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16726210017320352821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673171587452634374.post-68052181481520739592014-03-27T14:54:00.000-07:002014-03-27T14:54:10.601-07:00Three Years in the Pulpit<span style="font-size: large;">I wrote this for the upcoming church newsletter and I thought it was worth sharing here.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">April 2014</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Dear friends,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Grace and Peace to you in the name of our Lord and Savior,
Jesus Christ.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Can you believe that this April will make it three years
that I have had the pleasure of serving this congregation?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It is amazing to consider where and how God has been at work
in the time that I have been here. As I was reading Psalm 23 today, because it’s
the Psalm for this upcoming Sunday, I considered the ways in which God has been
involved in our church and our lives over the last three years.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“The Lord is my shepherd…” Think about all the things that
God, the Good Shepherd, has led us to do over the past three years. “He leads
me in right paths, for his namesake…” Think about the right paths God has led
us down in order that we may bring glory to His name. I truly believe that the
Holy Spirit has moved through us and encouraged us to work on the many outreach
projects that we have been so fortunate to be a part of. When I think about the
Chicken Dinner fundraiser, the monthly Bread of Life meal, the monthly Bryant Community
Meal, the Angel Tree, the Stockings for Soldiers, the “Faith, Family, and
Football” event, the Lord’s Table Food Pantry, the Comforters given to families,
etc. I cannot help but believe that God equipped us to serve those around us by
pouring out the Holy Spirit upon us.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I think of these things, and I am optimistic for the future.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But, there is another part of Psalm 23 that we must consider
as well. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will
fear no evil: for thou art with me…” Though we have had so many good times over
the past three years, I (and others) know that we are still traversing the
valley of the shadow of death. These last four months have been hard on all of
us, for we have discovered how deep and dark that valley can be. But, if I
truly believe that the Holy Spirit has prepared and sent us to serve our
neighbors, then I must also confess that I believe it is that same Holy Spirit
that has kept and sustained us during these dark days. The Psalmist beckons us
to remember this most crucial part about the valley of the shadow of death, “THOU
ART WITH ME.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">God is with us, in the good times and the bad. God is with
us, in serving and in sorrow. God is with us, and He will see us through.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I thank God everyday for our congregation; I thank God
everyday for you. Let’s continue to watch for the new thing that God is doing
in our lives. And, let’s continue to lean on God and one another.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Yours in Christ,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Vicar Robert</span></div>
Robert Abnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16726210017320352821noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2673171587452634374.post-8360244454832270082014-03-23T13:36:00.000-07:002014-03-23T13:36:45.557-07:00Tiffany's First (and only) Convention...and other thoughts<span style="font-size: large;">Last week's post was pretty heavy, so I'll keep this one relatively lite. (Light? Lite? Take your pick.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I attended Horrorhound Weekend in Cincinnati this weekend. I had a great time with great friends. Horrorhound Weekend is a convention dedicated to Horror Movies and the community around them. Whether you think that's cool or weird, you're right.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The primary function of these conventions is to meet your favorite actors, directors, and writers. You are given the opportunity to interact with them, snap photos, and get their autograph. I've met quite a few celebrities at these things, and I've had a lot of fun doing it. (I met Bruce Campbell this weekend...and yes, he was awesome.) Along with the celebrities, there's merchandise, discussion panels, costumes, and lots of other random stuff.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Attending the con this weekend reminded me of Tiffany's first, and only, con experience. Tiffany was never a "horror fan", but she would watch scary movies with me when she was in the mood to watch one. She liked ones that were well done (i.e. The Shining), and she liked some of the funny ones I'd occasionally get her to watch (i.e. Sleepaway Camp). All of that being said, Tiffany never planned on attending a Horror Con with me. She never discouraged my attendance, she would just pat me on the head and encourage me to go have fun.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Well, all of that changed last September. Tiffany caught wind that my friend Chad's wife, Nichole, was going to Horrorhound in Indy. Then, she found out that my friend Vinny's wife, Sandy, was going. Tiffany likes hanging out with Nichole and Sandy, so now she wants to know why she doesn't get to go. (Funny how that works isn't it?) Obviously, taking Tiffany to a Horror Con never crossed my mind. But, I figured, if the other wives are going she'll have fun.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, for my birthday, Tiffany bought us weekend passes for Horrorhound and booked us a hotel room. I was one happy husband.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Now, I'm not sure what she had in mind. But, as we pulled into the hotel/convention center parking lot, Tiffany starts to realize what she'd gotten herself into. She looks around and says, "There's going to be a lot of weird people here, aren't there?" After I contain my laughter, I say "Honey, you're with me...and my friends...at a horror movie convention." (This was not too different from her reaction when I took her to a David Allan Coe concert...which was also for my birthday. I see a trend here...)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">We parked the car, checked into the hotel, and headed over to the convention to meet up with our friends. After the initial shock wore off, Tiffany had a great time. She enjoyed seeing the costumes (pictured below with Freddy and Jason), she liked seeing the celebrities, and she got to see what all the fuss was about. In fact, Tiffany was with me the only time I got to see Robert Englund (the actor who played Freddy Krueger). We were waiting in line to go into a DJed pajama party, hosted by the con, when we looked up and saw Robert Englund shooting a strange look at the staff person next to us who was shouting instructions. We were 5 feet from him. (I didn't get to meet him the next day, my only goal of the weekend, because his line was sold out within minutes of the door opening.) She and I had a good laugh about seeing him in such a confused state.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">After it was all said and done, she had fun and she enjoyed hanging out with our friends. But, she informed me that she never needed to go to another one again. I saw that one coming from a mile away.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Those con memories were on my mind this weekend as I attended my first con since the accident. I'm glad that she went with me last September, it's a really nice memory to keep. (A funny side note. Not long after that con, Tiffany and I were at our friends Jaimie and Kevin's wedding when we randomly ran into a horror actor in the lobby of the hotel at 2am after the reception. It was Ari Lehman, he played the child Jason Voorhees who jumps out of the lake at the end of Friday the 13th. She remembered seeing him at the con and thought it was awesome that we ran into him in public. Not to mention that he was super friendly as well.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But, those memories can come at a cost too. Although they make me smile and laugh, they still remind me of how much I miss her. I got a little misty eyed (that's a lie, I was crying) during the drive home from Cincy yesterday. I realized that not only do I miss making new memories with her, I miss not having her to come home to. You never realize that part of the enjoyment of going to do fun stuff is tied up in having someone to come home to and telling them all about it. It was never hard for me to leave friends and fun events in the past because I knew that I got to go home to my best friend. That's gone now, and that sucks. It sucks coming back to our empty home. I don't hate the house, I love the house. But, I loved it more when it was our house. Now, it's our house minus one. And, it's a damn weird feeling to be lonely in the home you built with someone else.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But, enough of that. I said that this post wasn't going to get heavy, so I'll save it for the next one.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Grace and Peace,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Robert</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>Robert Abnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16726210017320352821noreply@blogger.com0