The Lonesome Valley

This is a tough day.  A kick-you-in-the-teeth kind of day. Could you sit down with me over a cup of coffee, and just listen with compassion for a couple minutes?

Things I needed from others weren’t forthcoming. (Everybody’s busy. I get that.) My request regarding working hours has virtually been denied. (They don’t really know what I do but they’re sure I’m the only one who can do it. I should feel complimented.) I’m dealing with unpredictable performance from my computer. (That’s no one's fault.) The backlog of work is piling up. (It is the busy season.)

Everybody has bad days. I know that. Every organization has its operating requirements they have to meet. I understand that. But today, I came so close to firing off a resignation letter, putting the house up for sale and taking off into the wild with the fast little red car.

I didn’t.

I’m being responsible. Patient. Holding on. Digging deep. Finding true grit. Hitting the bottom and finding it’s solid. My hope is built on the strong and sure foundation of the Lord Jesus Christ. 

I’m also holding tight to the very helpful and pragmatic instruction to not make any significant changes in the first year after my husband’s death. Most days this is a really good boundary and suitable criteria. But today? It's not easy. No one promised it would be. I feel like a big part of me is getting lost.

Then I come home and check out Facebook. Update after update reminds me of Brent. A song here, a blog post there, a status update, even a joke. They all remind me of how life breaks down the spirit. How a lack of appreciation wears down the perseverance. How hope deferred makes the heart sick (Prov. 13:12). How an absence of affirmation carves a deep crevice in your confidence like pounding water over time can carve a deep channel in stone.

Even when I know God works in all things for the good of those who love Him, it’s hard to keep moving under the heavy burden some days.

There is a traditional Spiritual that comes to mind:  

Jesus walked this lonesome valley. He had to walk it by Himself; O, nobody else could walk it for Him, He had to walk it by Himself.
We must walk this lonesome valley, We have to walk it by ourselves; O, nobody else can walk it for us, We have to walk it by ourselves.
You must go and stand your trial, You have to stand it by yourself, O, nobody else can stand it for you, You have to stand it by yourself.

So I can either sit here and milk all the melancholy out of the day, slip deeper into darkness, count all the things I lack or I can begin counting my blessings one by one and cling to the truth of God’s word that reminds me “this world is not my home, I’m just passing through.”

Though I walk through the valley of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me. Your rod and staff comfort me. (Psalm 23:4)

He who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it. (Phil. 1:6)

Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him.  (James 1:12)

Lord, to whom should we go? Only You have the words of eternal life. (John 6:68)

In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. (John 1:4-5)

Am I grieving? Yes. It's okay not to be okay. But I'm also normal. I have some good times. When I'm down like this, do I seek pity? Absolutely not. Do I want your prayer? Absolutely, yes. Am I down and in darkness? I know this too shall pass. I look to the Light. To the one who is Life. I tell myself the truth from the very words of the One who is the Way, the Truth and the Life:

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me.

(2 Corinthians 12:9)

Thank you for being there, too. The path doesn't feel so lonely any more.

Focus

My blogs have been few since my husband died. I haven't had time, I've been busy. I've been unable to focus. I haven't felt the need to write. There are a hundred reasons, but I decided this subject of FOCUS was worth writing about.

I have a friend on Facebook who lives a distance away. We chat often and have both been through significant bereavements in the past year. We talked this week about the difficulty we both experienced in being unable to focus. We have a task to do and can't seem to get our minds around it, even though it may not be all that complex.

I thought I was just being mentally undisciplined. It was just so hard to focus. My mind was a blur. Like my vision without my glasses. Was I procrastinating? (Not really, I was simply busy). Or was it that I didn't like working on my task alone? (Unhelpful. Can't change that). Was my declining eyesight making me more tired? (Turns out, after a visit to the optometrist, my eyesight is unchanged). Or I am getting older and my mental acuity is slipping? (A brief tour around a brain training website showed this not to be the case). Was it the grieving process. (Of course that's part of it).

There were any number of possible reasons but no real answers for why I couldn't complete some of the more mundane thinking, sorting, processing tasks. I took some intentional steps to solve this problem but it was only now that I've been begun to articulate how. Maybe my experience will help someone else.

Today, by accident, I stumbled upon a video excerpt of a Q&A session from 1996 with the late Steve Jobs of Apple. He had one short statement that puts this issue of  focus into perfect clarity. Whatever you may think of Steve Jobs as a person, he was still a very brilliant man and I believe we can learn from brilliant people. (I believe we can learn from anyone, but that's a different blog post).  Here's a little quote from Steve:

"Focusing is about saying no. And when you say no, you piss off people."

I don't like to make people angry. There's too much relational fall-out when we do that. I like to be nice. I initially said "Yes" to every invitation I received, even though I desperately needed to stay home and take care of my paperwork and my dog and laundry and groceries and cleaning and fitness and nutrition and sleep. So when it came to the hard work of collecting documents and processing paperwork by myself, it was even harder to focus because I had the added pressure of time - the stress of needing it to be done yesterday.

Well, as you can imagine, this didn't go over well. I was depleted and frustrated and unable to focus and I knew something had to change. Instinctively, I knew I either needed more help or I needed more time.

Help! It's hard to ask for help. You're completely vulnerable and face the very real possibility of not getting what you need. The one time I truly needed help - someone watch my dog while I went to visit my son - I asked at least a dozen people before I found someone willing. That was an eye opener. Lots of people wanted to have coffee and lots of people offered "If you need anything, just ask", but when I did ask, I quickly learned that "anything" was somewhat completely subjective. I don't blame them. They are busy and have to say "No" too. If that's your issue, then be more conservative about what you offer in the emotion of the moment.

I continued to be overloaded and distracted and unable to focus. I had more work than ever but there was only one of me. I no longer had a partner to share the load. I was alone. I had a brief cry about that and wrote a not-so-brief and not-so-sweet journal entry about it, too. But then I blew my nose and dried my eyes and put on my make-up, because there's nothing to be done except accept my circumstances and find a way through.

Time! There is never enough time, yet we all have the same amount. So. Does it really come down to time management? I started praying about it. It seemed, almost immediately, I realized the only way to free up time was to start saying "No" to whatever was not essential.

The only way to free up time is to say "No" to whatever is not essential.

I considered quitting my job. My son and my financial adviser suggested it would be better not to take such a drastic step. Besides, in normal circumstances, my job is okay. I like I like the people I serve and I like my colleagues. It gets me out of bed, gives me a sense of accomplishment and contributes to the greater good of a faith community. It provides sufficient income for current expenses. After mulling this over and looking at several different scenarios, I decided to temporarily reduce my hours of work from 32 to 24 - just for two months. Just until I could get a handle on the backlog for taxes and get my head back in the game. I made the arrangements for someone to fill in and got the approvals (and that is a whole 'nother blog post but I'm not going to go there).

Then I tackled my evening and weekend commitments and realized singing in choir is optional. There's one whole night per week that could be opened up. This was a pretty big deal because you've likely heard me say numerous times, "Singing is where I feel most alive". I was strangely quite fine with letting go of that weekly commitment so that I could get my head above water elsewhere. There were a number of people in choir that may have been disappointed, a few even expressed it kindly to me, but they understand and they sound just fine without me.

Then I said "No" to my personal expectations for my own high performance. I gave myself a break. I looked at the most pressing pile of paperwork. I decided that it was okay to not include medical expenses as a deduction on my 2012 tax return. The time it would take for me to get the information organized far outweighed the financial benefit. Nobody reacts to that except me. I had to let go of my high expectations. Once I chose to be okay with that, it relieved a lot of pressure.

Psychologist Barry Schwartz, in his TED talk and book, "The Paradox of Choice" explains why more is less and why the secret to happiness is having low expectations.

I increase my focus on the essentials by lowering my expectations in the non-essentials.

Then I started saying "No" to invitations. If it came from someone who hadn't invited me to do anything in a long while (or ever, in a couple cases), I decided they could wait a little longer. And you know, if any of them were angry or hurt, they didn't let on. Most of them were really fine with this. Quite gracious. Relieved, even. The friends who really wanted to be a support for me were there in ways for which I will never be able to express sufficient gratitude.

So, if you want better focus, free up time and mental pressure by saying "No" to everything but the most essential. Then lower your expectations. Learn to say, "That's good enough." Practice that with me. Say it out loud:

That's good enough.

Now, go away and practice saying that at least three times a day in your daily routines. "That's good enough." Truly it is. Give yourself permission to say "No." You'll be surprised what a relief it is.

My name is Joyce. I am a recovering perfectionist and I approve this message. It's good enough.

The New Normal: In Church Alone

A phenomenon I didn’t expect as a strong, independent woman was the way I feel walking into church alone. It is the hardest thing I have had to navigate as a new widow. I don’t feel sad, so far, just awkward. I’m not alone in this. Any widow, divorcee or single person likely has an “uncomfortable” story.

Why is this? Especially in a place that seeks to have arms wide open. I don’t feel awkward walking into a business alone or into the gym. I think the essence of Christianity is relationship – first with God, then in community. So to be alone can be problematic for any church attendee and appears to be a huge untapped area of ministry within the local church fellowship.

I knew this before. It just didn’t touch me so it wasn’t high on my priority list. Maybe it should have been higher. Maybe if I were gut-level honest, I would have to admit that I didn’t really care. It simply wasn’t on my radar.

My friend Carole, a slightly older single woman who died last March, would often seek out women sitting alone (after services and on Tuesday mornings at the Ladies’ Bible study) and engage them in conversation, “just so they feel like they belong,” she would tell me.

She occasionally called or sent me a Facebook message to inquire what weekend worship service we were attending. Only once or twice did she directly ask to sit with us. I would accommodate her when she asked, though sometimes coordinating our time left her waiting for me. She was never a burden and was never needy or clingy. We were close friends and met weekly in a small group.

However, I rarely made intentional effort to reach out to her on Sundays. When I did, she was very grateful. I didn’t really understand what this meant to her.

Now I do.

Couples and families don’t get this. I don’t fault them for that. I didn’t get it either when my husband was alive. We simply didn’t know what it is like. Marriage and family give an automatic sense of belonging. The need for companionship is met, and out of that base of security, one can venture great distance because there is always someone to come home to. Those who have this benefit are unaware that their “independent” attitude would disappear if the foundational basis of their marriage were gone.

Don’t get me wrong. I have friends at church, good friends. I have divorced friends, single friends, married friends of all ages. I usually meet up with them. I am fortunate to have had a decade of building these relationships and most of these friends are very caring and sensitive to include me in their lives but I don’t plan ahead. They can’t always do this either. I didn’t.

I simply didn't make an effort to include Carole sometimes when I could have done so without any inconvenience. I also recall changing directions one Sunday so that my path would not cross with a recent widow. I blush now, but at the time, I didn’t know what to say to her, which is ludicrous because she’s a lovely conversationalist. It wasn’t up to me to comfort her or minister to her, just to say “Hi” and let the conversation go wherever it will. But my own discomfort trumped relationship. Relationship. The one thing I had and she didn’t. I had the ability to give her this gift and I withheld it. How did I miss this so completely?

Another friend’s husband never attends church with her. He has no interest in spiritual things. She is an inspirational example to me in her spiritual singleness.

I asked her: “How do you do it? Always arriving at church alone?”

“Many Sundays I cried,” she replied. “Sometimes I have a pity party for myself. In my more mature times I look for a single lady, a stranger, and ask if I can sit with her. Sometimes they are waiting for someone else, sometimes they push my gesture away, but on a few occasions I make a friend and encourage a lonely person to come back the next week. A few of those lonely people are still lonely and say that I am the only person who befriended them at church.”

One acquaintance, when she saw me entering the sanctuary alone, warmly invited me to sit with her and her husband. Although I was meeting someone else and declined her invitation, her expression of kindness will stay with me for a long time.

Jesus not only commanded us to care for the needs of widows and orphans, he intentionally sought out the outcast. Think of the woman at the well in Samaria. She hauled water at noon, the hottest time in the day, so she didn’t have to be alone in a crowd when the well-behaved wives came in the cool of the day. Jesus quenched her thirst and she became an evangelist to the whole town. This provides an interesting example for the local church in our outreach efforts. This is an untapped area of ministry, both in providing a place of belonging and a place of service for singles, widows and divorcees and in widening our own circle and becoming sensitive to include those that feel outcast.

I am an active volunteer within the church. Volunteerism can provide an “in” to a group, a sense of belonging and opportunity to build new friendships while I am working to meet the needs of others. Serving others also helps keep my own needs in perspective, but I still have to walk in the building alone to get there.

As a follower of Jesus, whether married with family or alone, I need to develop other-awareness and long-term memory, getting out of myself and reaching out to those in need, engaging others in conversation about more than just my own “stuff”.

In the meantime, my knowledge is increasing - of the Lord who never leaves me, the one who sticks closer than a brother, husband or best friend. The one who said, “You are my beloved, I am yours and you are mine.” My dependence on God is growing exponentially and increased sensitivity has softened my heart to the needs of others. I’ve started conversing with the Lord - out loud, anytime, anywhere - just like I would with any other friend who is present with me.

I can almost hear my Saviour say, “Hey, let’s go find someone and invite them to join us. Two is good, but a trinity is better.”

Psychology 101: Dealing with Difficult People

Each of us has probably done something that hurt or disappointed someone else. The chances are remote that anyone intentionally says or does hurtful things. 

But what about careless words? thoughtless? impulsive? angry words?

Or no words at all?

Dead silence.

.

.

.

.

.

Or worse, ambivalent words. Non-committal. Disengaged. Feigned apathy.

“What would you like to do?”

“I don’t care.”

“Where would you like to eat?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Do you want A or B?”

“Whatever. You pick.”

And then when you pick, they aren't happy. But then, would they be happy in any case?

In my view, this is dysfunctional, juvenile and temperamental. It expresses a dog-in-the-manger attitude that says, “If I can’t be happy with my current circumstances, then no one else is going to enjoy themselves either”. The dis-engaged person isn't expressing his/her true needs, he/she is just expecting others to be a mind-reader and fulfill every desire. This is the worst kind of  prima donna attitude: “The world should just make me happy without me having to speak a word or lift a finger.” 

On occasion this behavior is revenge-based. "You didn't do what I wanted, (or you hurt me) so now you're going to pay the price." 

What’s sad is this behavior produces no change in either party.

In my experience, people who act this way usually fall into two camps. They either 1) really do have an over-inflated sense of their own self-importance and feel others should cater to their every whim, "Because I'm right!" or 2) they hate themselves and are behaving in a way that guarantees others will dislike them, thus confirming their bias against themselves. 

There are other possibilities, but these are the more common and both border on an irrational view of relationships. This type of person frequently creates drama and/or division in a family or friend group (“I’m not happy until you’re not happy”). They subconsciously want attention (and bad attention is better than no attention). They get their way through emotional blackmail but even when they get what they want, they are discontent because they had to ask for it. Then when you try to get them to see how they are acting, they withdraw, pout, make excuses: "I'm just tired", or turn the tables: "Who are you to talk? You were mean to me last week."

How do you deal with this kind of person if you’re stuck with them? 

1. Do you let them off the hook by finding excuses? “Oh, she’s in menopause” or “Oh, he’s under a lot of stress at work”. Or do you take the blame? "I must have done something wrong."
2. Do you care enough to confront? If you name their behavior for what it is, would they believe you? Are they capable of seeing the futility of their behavior? Do they even want to be different or are they genuinely mean-spirited? 
3. Or do you cut them off? Where does love, grace and forgiveness come in if they are unwilling to repent of this habitual conduct?

After the Introduction to The Unexpected Journey

Many of you have offered "If there's anything I can do..."  Well, you can give me your advice.

It's another beautiful sunrise from my deck. But just as the sun rises with the shadow of a Chinook cloud above the mountains, so my view of the rising future also comes shrouded in shadows. Just as the sunrise changes every morning, the circumstances of my life also change. There are times, especially at night, when it feels really dark and even the stars can be obscured by cloud, but I gladly remember that somewhere, the sun is always shining, it's just my perspective that changes. It helps when others can shine a flashlight or light a candle in the dark to help me find my way.

When Brent died, my future was just changed in a way I never anticipated and I entered a period of very little light. Before Dec. 7, my primary role was as a partner and support to my husband in his career as the primary provider. Now, the role of "supportive wife" is gone.

I'm it.

Head of the household. Decisions have to be made. I don't have to consider another person's opinion, but then again, I also don't have another person to consult or to share the blame if it all goes awry. Ha. So how do I look to the future and choose to live intentionally in a contributing way? How do I find my new identity? How do I anticipate problems and plan to avoid pitfalls? How do I set myself up for as much success as possible? Should I even be thinking "success" vs. "process"? What can I really change or control?

Seth Godin talks about envisioning a future without your sacred cows. Go read this blog post, then come back here and give me your ideas.

Based on Seth's blog post, what are my sacred cows? How do I envision a future with or without them? How do I even envision a future when all I can see in the immediate near term is spending every hour catching up on paperwork and trying to clean up the details of my past?

The strongest advice I've been given by those who have been in my place is 1) don't do anything in a hurry or on impulse and 2) don't make any significant changes for at least a year. This seems like good advice, so I can stay in my current job, be a mom who parents from a distance, hang out with some pretty nice people in my church and neighborhood and not change anything for a while.

Maybe that’s an okay idea, but somehow I think that’s a pretty small life. My financial situation is adequate but requires prudence. No lavish lifestyle for me. I have an investment advisor, a tax accountant, a realtor and a lawyer if needed. They provide practical advice, support and guidance in financial and legal matters. My pastor, life coach and psychologist help with the spiritual and emotional side. I guess I'm getting down to the nitty gritty of career and identity, two very big issues. Who am I if I am not a wife? I am still a mother, but my son is a young adult working his way toward becoming self-supporting, so my involvement in his life is changing. Do I plan for early retirement? If so, what do I retire to? If I don't retire early, am I in the best career for the next decade or so? Am I living in the best place? Do I move closer to my son?

I don’t really hear a Clear Calling to anything different yet, no incredible book offers or job offers or speaking engagements, but I would like to envision possible scenarios for my future in the manner Seth Godin suggests. But does imagination help unless it involves decisions I actually have some control over? I hopefully won't approach my future like the widow I heard about who is spent all her time desperately searching online dating sites for her next husband. Not that there's anything wrong with online dating per se, just that you can't make a partner magically appear. It takes two to tango and "desperate" isn't really my style.

I’m having a hard time concentrating on my daily Bible reading. I talk to God all the time, and I hear great truth through many avenues, so for now, I think I am going to just plod along where I am and ask that your prayers for me in the future include the petition that I would clearly sense God’s voice and have my eyes open to whatever contribution I can make right in front of me. And if God wants to change focus and give me some Really Clear Direction, you can let him know I think that would be a mighty fine idea.

What do YOU think might show up as a sacred cow as I consider possible scenarios for my future? Do you have real life examples of helpful things widows/widowers have done and things I Really Should Avoid? If so, you can email me at harback@shaw.ca or better yet, post them here in the comments.

Thanks for your love, prayer and support,
Joyce

An Unexpected Journey

My husband of 31 years is no longer here. A son mourned, a father missed, a brother gone, a colleague absent, a friend departed.

People ask "How are you?" and the truth is that we have been carried by the Lord and embraced by the body of Christ. Friends, family, neighbors, colleagues, vendors, pastors and church members have met our needs at every turn.

Yet emotions are inevitable and every stage of grief is becoming familiar. Anger, sadness and loneliness are alternately foreign, in-your-face, large, distant, overwhelming, inconceivable, and more feelings for which there are no adjectives. We have been perplexed, shocked, grieved, aghast, in denial, at peace, quietly accepting, recalling memories in tears and laughter, praising all that was good, asking questions, praying against darkness, clinging to the One who is holding us in everlasting arms.

We have given our tributes and laid his body to rest in a place where we can view the city and mountains he loved, but this was only his mortal frame, the now-silent jar of clay by which we related to him and he to us, so tenderly, the smile that touched us, the glint in his eyes that warned us a tease was coming, the hands that were quick to do whatever needed to be done, the legs that carried him swiftly to his duties and on his favorite lunchtime walks or mountain hikes, the heart that beat fast for his wife, his son and his favorite hockey team and driving fast, the laugh that included himself and was never unkind.

He has taken his last journey and we begin a new one with only his wisdom and memory to carry with us. Hand in hand with the Lord Brent loved and served, we now walk forward one step at a time, one breath at a time. Nothing in a hurry, looking everyone in the eye. Treasuring each moment.

My tribute to him are with words that cannot possibly contain the joy and complexity of the 52 years he lived, the 33 years he was part of my life. But I leave you with them. There will be more words, as time and grief allows a suitable expression. For now, this is enough.

You saw me before I was born. 
Every day of my life was recorded in your book. 
Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed.  
Psalm 139:16 

Caring son, loving brother, faithful husband, devoted father, dedicated manager, and loyal friend. Talented singer, avid hockey fan and sports car enthusiast. Tenacious, tender, enthusiastic and perceptive. A mischievous prankster and an entertaining story teller, an accomplished singer and consummate baby kisser.

Brent was a true Alberta boy, born and bred, who played as hard as he worked. He loved taking long drives to explore the city or the mountains and enjoyed hiking, skiing, and hockey, especially if his son or the Calgary Flames were involved. He loved to travel, sing and act. He won awards for his singing, but more importantly, he blessed hearts.

With colleagues and friends, he earned nicknames like Tigger, Mr. Clean and Beloved, and called himself “a Doberman spirit in a poodle body.” While he struggled with his health and energy level in recent years, he worked with integrity to reach his goals and motivate his team. His career spanned 32 years with Husky Energy where he gave leadership to a team of talented professionals for whom he had great respect and affection.

It was Brent’s great delight to entertain others whether he was on stage or in a meeting. His dry sense of humour and fondness for pranks endeared him to all. He always tried to lighten the mood with a funny story. He enjoyed kids and would have been an amazing grandpa.

Brent placed his faith in Jesus and accepted the free gift of salvation by grace. We know with confidence he is with his Lord.

Beloved Brent, you will be missed.


For those wishing to view the memorial service for Brent held on December 15, 2012, it will be available online at the following link through November 2013. You may wish to enjoy the dual-piano prelude or you may move the marker forward to about the 21 minute point where the service begins.

Brent Harback Memorial Service - CLICK HERE

Calgary Herald Obituary and Guest Book

McInnis & Holloway Guest Book

Advent Shadows

This meditation and art prompt was written by Claudia Mair Burney on Facebook as part of a daily Advent series. My visual response is at the end.


Wednesday, the first week of Advent

“Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly. But just when he resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to Him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son,
and you are to name Him Jesus, for he will save people from their sins.” Matthew 1:19-21, NRSV.

Yesterday a beautiful soul bought to my attention the difficulty she was experiencing doing yesterday's practice. She and her husband have been trying to conceive and having difficulty, and she was at a loss when trying to create a self-portrait of herself as pregnant with Christ.

I apologized for causing pain, told her what applies to you all--skip what you don't want to do-- then promptly suggested she paint that very same heartache.

No, I do not enjoy torturing people. I have simply found healing for so many hard things by painting them. The spiritual life is not all cuddly joy. A cursory reading of the Bible proves that. If we are to experience the whole of the Advent story through the expressive arts some courage is necessary. For in this story are the terribly human tendencies we all have, even the most devout of us.

Take Joseph for instance. He was obviously a compassionate and deeply devout man with every instinct to protect Mary from public shame, and possibly a stoning. But even with his remarkable qualities, he could not see what God had done. Most of us would have reacted the exact same way. We do so daily in some way or another. The holy and sublime breaks through our ordinary existence, and we fail to see the gift we’ve been given. But all is not lost. God, in His great love for Joseph, simply found another way to reach him.

Today we are going to focus on the doubt--an utterly reasonable doubt--that Joseph experienced. I encourage you today to be counter intuitive and use supplies that you are not drawn to. Paint, draw, collage, write--whatever you choose--what keeps you from seeing the miracle unfolding before you.

Merciful Father,

How often do I fail to understand what you are doing, but you are always sending me help, and even deliverance from my sins. Do not give up on me, good Father, when I am too practical to see the miracles right in front of me. You know how to get my attention. Quiet my soul, Abba, so that I may hear from you, and see the magnificent gifts you have placed in my life. Help me to receive them, be obedient, and always cry out from the depths of my soul,

“Come, Lord Jesus.”

"Shadows" :: #2 Pencil on brown wrapping paper

My response: It's a brutally raw self-portrait. I wasn't feeling outwardly tearful at all but that's what I drew and as soon as I posted it publicly, I began to second guess. How much did any of the players in this story, even Jesus, second guess? Why does divinity hide in the shadows? Why do we not see the angel so clearly in dreams that we are convinced and change our mind?