The Holes in our Hearts

This will be a short post.

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.

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.

The loss of our loved one leaves a hole in our heart.

(Here comes the hard news.)

That hole will never be filled, it will ALWAYS be there. 

However, the areas of our heart around that hole can get bigger.

Those new, bigger areas, they can be filled with new and different kinds of love.

Make no mistake, the hole will still be there and it will still hurt.

But, we can embrace the new love and let it dull that pain. 

The new love comes in many different forms. Old friends, new friends, family, nature, the Holy Spirit, the list could go on...

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.

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.

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. 

But, in this instance, we must recognize it. We must name it.

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.

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.

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.

Because a life without love isn't a life worth living.

Grace, Love, and Peace to you all,

Robert

To be Married and given in Marriage

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.

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. 

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.

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!

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.

So, yeah, this Wednesday would have been our third wedding anniversary. 

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.

This is going to be another one of those painful firsts, it's been weighing on me for the last couple of days already. 

This is the worst. The woooooooooooorst. (Jean-Ralphio Voice)

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.

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.

(I know, we could talk for hours about the theological implications of marriage.)

Marriage is something we do here. Marriage is pleasing to God. Marriage helps us get through this life.

But, Jesus says that in the age to come, we will not marry or be given in marriage. 

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.

However, the hard truth remains, I wasn't done having her as my wife on this side of eternity. 

I still need her. I feel so incomplete without her. Some days I wonder how I make it without her by my side.

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.

My wife was an amazing woman, and I'll never forget how beautiful she was on our wedding day. (or, everyday for that matter)

She made me a better man.

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.

We had communion during our wedding ceremony; it connected us to the saints then, and it connects me to Tiffany now.

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.

Grace, Mercy, and Peace to you,
Robert

The Ways in which we Move.

Yesterday, I told my church council that I was planning on moving back to Muncie. I am not leaving the church. Just moving out of the parsonage.

I did not reach this decision easily. I spent a lot of time in prayer, discussion, and discernment before arriving at this conclusion. 

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. 

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.

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.

This move is necessary for my spiritual and emotional health.

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.

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.

The memories remain. But, that future is lost.

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.

Does that mean there is no future? Of course not.

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.

But, grief lies to you. Grief can make you feel like a jerk for trying to move forward with your life.

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.

But, we can't move back. We know we have to move forward.

Notice I didn't say "move on".

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. 

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.

In these moments of fear, I'm comforted by the words of Saint John Chrysostom, "They whom we love and lose are no longer where they were before. They are now wherever we are."

All of this goes through my mind when I consider moving back to Muncie.

But, in the long run, I know that it's the right decision.

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.

Tiffany would want me to move forward, I would want her to do the same if the situation was reversed. 

But, I will miss our home. I will miss the life that we made for ourselves there.