Missing Things

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Have you ever been frustrated by misplacing something important?  Thinking you’d lost it for good?  

Your check card you didn’t know was missing until getting ready to pay for the $200+ of groceries in the supermarket checkout lane with 5 impatient customers waiting in line behind you. Or your favorite pair of shoes you’ve torn your whole house apart looking for because you can’t remember the last when or where you saw them. Or that favorite tshirt you always wear when you need a little extra luck but haven’t seen since you threatened to burn it after your football team lost that last heart-wrenching game.  

I am a creature of habit. Few things frustrate me to the point of insanity like having to look for something that is not in its designated spot. Neurotic or not, I’ve always believed that if you put things in the same place and return them to their place after each use, you won’t have to waste time searching for them or taxing your brain to remember the last place you put them.  But even the best systems fail sometimes; and I live alone, so I can’t even blame anyone else for sabotaging my system (lol). 

And so, when I lost my car key SIX MONTHS ago, I was mystified by its disappearance.  

I remember the last time I saw it. March 7th. I was packing for a trip and had emptied my purse onto my bed. Transferring all my necessary items into a different bag, I distinctly remember thinking there was no point in taking my car key. It’s a bulky, heavy metal fob that I just did not want to carry around with me unnecessarily. And since I would not be driving my car to the airport the next morning, there was really no need to have it with me at all.

Beyond that very specific and vivid memory, I have ABSOLUTELY NO RECOLLECTION of what I did next with that key fob.  

I remember continuing to pack, going to bed, getting up the next morning, having a wonderful trip over the next week, and safely returning home. Not until the day after my return did I realize, in a panic, that I could not find my key. I searched everywhere I could think. Luggage. Desk. Every junk drawer in my house. Under the bed. Under the mattress. Laundry hamper. Washer. Dryer. Every nook and cranny of my closet.

Nothing.

Over the following weeks I continued to search. Couch cushions. Outdoor furniture cushions. Refrigerator. Deep freezer. Trunk of my car. Under car mats and in the console and glove compartment. Every drawer of my chest of drawers and nightstands. Jacket pockets. Pants pockets. 

Still nothing.

I gave up. Resigned myself to never find that key fob and grateful that I at least had the spare to use. 

For the next few months, a friend would randomly ask about my lost key and if I had found it. “Nope,” was always my answer. Then nothing more would be said about it until it randomly made its way into our conversation again. It was gone. No use spending time worrying about it. But, occasionally, I would wonder at its mysterious disappearance.

Then, this morning as I was transferring the items from one purse into another, I noticed something in a small pocket of the inner lining of the purse I have been using for the past 2 weeks. It was an odd shape, and I didn’t remember putting anything in particular into that pocket. I ran my finger down into it to pull out whatever it was and was shocked to find my long-missing key fob. I laid it on the desk and quickly checked my wallet for the fob I’ve been using to make sure I wasn’t mistaken. For a long minute I just stared at both of them, not believing that missing fob had been here the whole time.  Right under my nose. Tagging along with me everywhere I’ve been in the past two weeks, even while I believed it was lost forever.

Which got me thinking… Isn’t it just like that sometimes? Life, I mean. All the things we cannot see, that we assume are lost or non-existent because we can’t see them, that are right here with us all along.  

Like the love of someone who has passed on? Or the loyalty of a friend? Or a faith that sustains us through the toughest times? Or the support of a community that is interwoven through every thread of our lives? 

My life is filled with the goodness of all these things; and yet, sometimes I forget. Sometimes I despair and stumble and flounder. Sometimes I fall face down and think I don’t have the will or energy or desire to get back up again. And then somewhere, in the most random moment and unexpected place, I find a treasure hidden in a pocket. And I am reminded that what I thought was lost has been with me all along.  

Cover Artist Spotlight

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If you follow my social media, you will have heard by now that my first book is nearing it’s official release date. This collection of poems has been a labor of love over the past (nearly) 4 years, and I am excited to share it with the world.

When imagining the look and feel of a physical book I could hold in my hands, I struggled to visualize the cover. I wanted something that would capture the emotional chaos that grief brings and yet something that was beautiful and rich in color. For months I considered various options, only to discard each in frustration. It was like trying to find the right outfit for that big, important occasion. This dress fit just right but was the wrong color. That suit was the perfect color but was unflattering when tried on. And so on…

Until finally it dawned on me. The answer was hanging right in front of me all along!

Windward” by Amber Voorhies

The very first time I saw this painting by my friend Amber Voorhies, I felt an instant connection to it. It was like she had gotten into my head and painted my emotions. Deep and dark, roiling – moving into light, airy hope. I asked her about it several times over the course of a few months, until finally, when I could not stop thinking about it, I bought it and brought it home with me.

It hangs on the main wall in my bedroom where I can see it when I wake up each morning.

It is a special thing when one form of creativity sparks another form and inspires another to create. I am grateful to the makers and creators in my life. They keep me inspired and encourage me to keep reaching for more.

Amber is a talented artist. I encourage you to visit her website. You may find something there that ignites a spark with in you.

https://www.ambervoorhies.com

Holy Night

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Tonight, a family has lost their 22-year-old daughter. Tonight, 150 miles away, a family has lost their mom, their wife, their grandmother.

Tonight, I feel broken and exhausted; weighed down by grief.  My tears, hot and angry, question the purpose of suffering.  The inexplicable complications of life.  The meaning of …  everything.  Why we love.  Why we die.  And mostly, WHY must we lose the people we love.

This is Holy Saturday.  A sacred time of reflection in the darkest of days before the single most important day in our Christian faith.  Sunday- Easter morning, all the churches will sing their Alleluias and proclaim the resurrection of the Messiah.  There will be trumpets, brass bands, smiling robed choirs, brightly colored dresses, and newly shined shoes.  We as a united people of faith will exalt in the promise given to us that Jesus died for us, to deliver us from sin and death, and lead us to the kingdom of God.

Sunday morning.

But tonight… Tonight it is dark. Quiet. Mournful. Tonight is full of anguish, questions, and anger. Tonight, it is difficult to think of Jesus healing the sick when so many people I know suffer from illnesses and traumas perpetrated upon them. Tonight, it is difficult to remember how Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead when innocent lives have been taken through random accidents or intentional violence. Tonight, my faith wavers because I can find no answers to my questions.

Those who grieve new loss tonight, on the eve of Easter morning, likely can see no hope of the sun shining again.  Maybe they cannot imagine there being truth in a distant promise of redemption.  I can understand that because I’ve been in that darkness before.  I have lived there, gasping to breathe, praying for deliverance even when I could not see a possible way for it. 

Those who suffer tonight, choking on the questions in their throats, are desperate for answers.  I have none.  I have no pretty words to soothe.  No platitudes to dish out on fancy trays or champagne flutes of trite clichés to swallow down in one easy gulp. 


Through my own dark night of the soul, I asked plenty of my own questions.  Screamed them.  Shook my fist at the sky.  Cursed God.  Cried.  Prayed to God.  Begged for the cup of grief to pass from me.  And when it would not, I dug deep within myself to search for whatever of value remained.  What I found, when I was brave enough to look, was love.  A deeper empathy for others.  A flash of understanding that life is temporary, and that is precisely what makes it so special and valuable.  I discovered that the people in my life who love me are what deserves my closest attention, and that every moment of Now demands to be lived.

If in your darkness you cannot yet see the sunlight of Easter morning, I hope you can at least feel the warmth of that light as it surrounds you. And I hope you choose to lean into it.



“I still believe
You’re the same yesterday, today, and forever.
And I still believe
Your blood is sufficient
For me.”

“Still Believe”
Messiah, POA Worship

Alleluia.

Amen.

Stages of Grief

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This graph on the stages of grief is the most helpful I have ever come across. Someone shared it in a Facebook group, and I saved it. I do not know the original source. If anyone recognizes it and can cite the source, I would be grateful!

This graph is an incredibly helpful tool for anyone grappling with loss. It is vital to be able to identify each emotion as they come rushing in like a wave in order to know which coping skills on which to rely in any given moment or day.

I am grateful to have a new tool. I can use all the help I can get.

Clyde W Johnson

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The world has lost another soul. A family has lost its father. Grandfather. A life partner. A brother. A friend. A life Force.

Clyde Johnson was one of the warmest, robustly full of life people I have ever known. He was always smiling. Even now, I can hear his jolly laughter echoing in my memory.

His loss leaves a hole in the lives of those who knew and loved him. He will be missed, but he leaves a legacy of love in his absence. I hope those who loved him best can feel the warmth of that love embrace them in the coming days.

3 brothers united again: Clyde Johnson, Calvin Johnson, James Johnson (seated)

The only thing I know

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Why is life so difficult to manage? And why am I doing such a poor job of it?

Workout and eat right to stay in good physical shape. Read all the things to keep the mind sharp. Go to church, pray, and meditate for spiritual health and balance. Manage dr appointments, eye exams, dental cleanings, annual mammograms and physicals. What do you mean I’m supposed to have had a colonoscopy already?!

Why is there so much to manage and juggle?Regular home maintenance (overwhelming!). Constant repairs. Yard work. Housework.

And WHY is there so much LAUNDRY?! I mean, it’s just me. I’m only trying to keep up with myself. There are no kids to chase after (and keep alive 24 hours a day. Every. Single. Day. !)

Some days it just feels like it’s all too much.

From time to time I’ll have someone say to me “It just seems like you’ve got it all figured out.”

Ummm. What? Are you kidding? I’m a walking trainwreck.

Well, ok. Maybe not quite that bad. But – most days I feel pretty clueless. Like a child who’s been released in the wild and left to her own devices. I don’t know what I’m doing, and I haven’t figured Anything out.

Except this one thing:

I know that every single morning I have to make a decision to get out of bed. I have to make a choice to either make it a good day or just count it as a day lost. I have to choose to live in gratitude and seek out joy or steep myself in self-pity and feed my bad attitude. It is a choice. Every day.

Some days I choose well. Some days I pull the covers over my head and vow to try again tomorrow. But I know- as long as I’m here, it is MY choice to make.

I hope most days you are able to choose well for yourself. And on the days you are unable to, I hope you make a promise to yourself to try again tomorrow.

2023 Focus Word

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With 2022 drawing to an end, I’ve been spending some quiet time reflecting on what has passed and thinking on the possibilities that the dawning of a new year may bring.

This has been a good year for me. I’ve made new friends, traveled to new places, and dived head-first into new experiences. My friends and I wrote, performed, and recorded a full soundtrack for a movie. I began performing spoken word pieces at Ignite the Mic each month. Participated at poetry readings. Had a few poems published. Performed with community theater for the first time. Made new friends along the way. Continued writing. Traveled with friends to Charleston for a 10k (which I thought I would never be able to do again since having neck and back surgery). Traveled to Montana for a beautiful wedding. Hiked in the mountains. Was accepted into a writing program in Vermont and spent 10 action-packed days learning. Continued to write. Learned more about myself. Healed a little more from things I still can’t talk about. Felt love. Gave love. Lost loved ones. Said “goodbye.” Continued to write.

And now, I’m looking toward the future. Wondering what fresh blessings and new hells may await me. Steeling myself for potential new hurts. Steadying my anticipation for new opportunities. Whatever is on the other side of tomorrow, I’m ready,

My focus word for 2023 is OPEN.

As in – opening myself up to new things. New experiences. New people. New places. New perspectives. New possibilities.

As in opening myself to vulnerability. To truth. To needs and wants. To love. To connection. To messiness. To humanity in its fullness.

As in opening my mouth and using my voice. To articulate what I want. To speak of what is not right. To inspire. To encourage. To embolden and uplift.

As in opening my eyes to see. The reality of what’s before me. As well as the possibilities of what can be.

As in opening myself to the universe. To the slipstream. To the energy that nourishes and connects us.

As in opening myself as a vessel to God. To be the hands and feet of compassion.

As in opening myself to Life.

Happy New Year, Friends! May we survive the dangers and disappointments that threaten to destroy us. May we find peace and purpose in the joys that sustain us.

Merry & Bright

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It’s important to remember that not everyone is experiencing holiday cheer at this time of the year. Seasonal depression, grief over lost loved ones, and loneliness are all exacerbated by the general expectation that everyone should just be happy during the holidays.

Amid all the hustle and bustle of the season, please make an extra effort to be kind to others. Money stresses, packed calendars, and gloomy weather can wear on everyone. Extend some grace to everyone you encounter today, and maybe we can all find some peace and light during this season of darkness.