Where Does My Help Come From?

(Lyrics to Mark Schultz' "He Will Carry Me")

*see our music playlist for the song

I call
You hear me
I've lost it all
And it's more then I can bear
I feel so empty
You're strong,
I'm weary
I'm holding on
But I feel like giving in
But still You're with me
And even though I'm walking
Through the valley of the shadow
I will hold tight to the hand of Him
Whose love will comfort me
And when all hope is gone
And I've been wounded in the battle
He is all the strength that I will ever need
He will carry me
I know I'm broken
But You alone
Can mend this heart of mine
You're always with me
And even though I'm walking
Through the valley of the shadow
I will hold tight to the hand of Him
Whose love will comfort me
And when all hope is gone
And I've been wounded in the battle
He is all the strength that I will ever need
He will carry me
He will carry me
And even though I feel so lonely
Like I have never been before
You never said it would be easy
But You said You'd see me through the storm
And even though I'm walking
Through the valley of the shadow
I will hold tight to the hand of Him
Whose love will comfort me
And when all hope is gone
And I've been wounded in the battle
He is all the strength that I will ever need
He will carry me
He will carry me
He will carry me

I (Ginger) am hearing more and more often that other people who have lost their spouses are visiting our blog. Or their friends are visiting our blog so, I assume, they can have a little more insight of the painful journey their friend is walking through. We are humbled that anyone would want to read our thoughts or seek to find help, hope or healing in our words. I can assure you that if any of that comes from our writings, it comes straight from the Lord. We are only the broken vessels He chose to use.

II Cor. 4:7-10

"But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side but not crushed, perplexed, but not in despair, persecuted, but not abandoned, struck down but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body."

I love this scripture because it is such a descriptive picture of what our place is on this earth. Our treasure is the amazing Godness/humanness of Christ and His Word, which is still just as alive today as ever, and that He would choose to indwell His Holy Spirit in us. We, however, are those pitiful little clay jars just trying to hold in all of His amazingness. Being an interior designer I have seen a few jars in my day. I am always attracted to a pretty urn or vase. I own a few myself. (See my definition of a few from Jim's perspective - ha). But I have been to Israel and the Holy Land and I am guessing the type mentioned in this text is referring to those plain dirty terra-cotta brown ones. They are not real smooth, more than a little rough around the edges and have no adornment whatsoever. That pretty much sums us all up. No matter how cute we think we might be, even on a good-hair day, we are all still plain, dirty and unattractive vessels. The beauty we have comes from Christ in us.

I haven't felt very pretty on the inside lately and I thought I would sit down and write about it. Back to my original opening statement that I know others who have lost spouses might be reading this blog. I am specifically going to address those who had children when their spouse passed away. I guess I don't really know what other perspective I would write from as that is the only one I know. My best friend, Amy, always says I am the one who says out loud what other people are only thinking. I am not sure if that is good or bad but I do see in myself the ability to be transparent and open and self-aware and willing to talk about it.

Among the flood of emotions that overcame me as I sat on my 3 year old's bed and listened to a general methodically tell me that my Troy's plane had gone down that Fall day in November, I felt my life slip down the drain. Unable to stop it, just like the last of the bathtub water. There it went. Because of the shock I can't remember exactly what I said. But my friend, Christy, who was there with me said I kept saying over and over "This can't happen. We have 5 children. This can't happen. We have 5 children....." I remember, in a strange way, thinking if I say this statement enough it will reverse what this man just told me and put everything back the way it was, the way it was supposed to be. "THIS WASN'T THE WAY IT WAS SUPPOSED TO ALWAYS BE!" shouted loudly in my head. Troy and I never sat down and said okay, let's have alot of kids and figure out how one of us would raise them alone. Believe me, I wish we had. There were so many days and nights where I would cry and long to hear Troy's wisdom and advice about what on earth I was supposed to do now. He and I were a parenting team. We even led a parenting class. We were good at it and despite the hard work always saw the benefits of our "full quiver".

When he died, it felt as if someone cut off both of my hands and said now go knit me a sweater. Yeah right. Like I got handed an assignment that said, "Take care of, godly parent, love and nuture your five children ages 8 and under while your heart, mind, soul and body are crushed. Oh, and don't lose your faith or your mind while doing it!" That was the task, Lord?! Okay, I give. That's just asking too much. I told the Lord He knew my limitations and He pushed me over the edge of them.

My definition of loneliness was parenting alone. With every soccer game or school function I attended without Troy, it became clearer that he was really never coming back. In those first months I would lay in bed at night and think of all the milestones in our children's lives that I would now see alone. Everything from first steps for the twins to Boston's high school graduation to Bella's father-daughter dance at her wedding - those were just some of thoughts that tormented me by night. But during the reality of day, things like the 6 of us sitting at the dinner table and looking over to the empty chair where he should be sitting or filling out the first school form and not knowing what to write in the father blank. Only someone who has lost their partner in parenting and life knows the depths of pain things like that bring. I know what it is to sit with your children at your husband's gravesite. It's almost so horrible you can't wrap your brain around what it is you are actually doing.

One thing I realized was that, before Troy died, subconsciously every time I looked upon my children, I must have thought of him to some degree. We would either be referring to him or they would be looking or acting like him. After he died, whenever I looked into their faces or even worse, their sad eyes, it just served as a reminder that he had left us. When people couldn't understand why it was so hard to be around my children, they really couldn't fathom how there was no comfort there, only more acute stabbing heartache. All of those memories do take me back to the not-so-long-ago past hurts. And by God's mercy and grace alone, has there been so much healing that I am re-engaged with my kids and desiring to be their mom again. It wasn't that I didn't want to be their mom. I just didn't want to be their mom without Troy there to be their dad. It seemed as if my map got torn in half but I still was supposed to keep driving in the same direction and make it to our intended destination. I didn't feel I could ever enjoy the beauty of watching the glorious splendor of a sunset on the horizon that raising children can be, without him.

As I said, there has been much healing but it is not complete yet. And though, my heart overflows with thankfulness for another amzazing husband and father,Jim, walking the parenting journey beside me, I still struggle with how HARD it still can be. Troy and I set out to have four children and the Lord decided five was a better number. When he left for Iraq the twins were 6 months old and 9 months old when he was killed. Who ever has children born in the same year that their parent dies? Me. But I know I am not the only one out there. My 2006- THE YEAR OF CHANGE.

Now, in 2008, there has been much more change. Change of beautiful and miraculous proportion but change still. In my heart, I know we all still feel the effects of the changes in 2006 and Jim's in 2007. I believe that the Lord Himself has cocooned our children in love and protection from the harsh winds of change that have blown into all seven of their precious lives. And though we see they each face some insecurities that they will have to surrender to the Lord's help, they are doing remarkably so well. I have been facing my own insecurities as their mother. The parent that I once was has had to evolve. I beat myself up over being more impatient or distracted or frustrated. I admit to looking at the 5 (now 7 with Anthony and Nic) of them and feeling a lot overwhelmed. I feel like I should join every parenting support group there is out there - parents of large numbers of children, parents of children who lost a father or mother, parents of multiples, parents of potty-training twins (these folks need margaritas at their meetings :)), etc... The list goes on of the places I could go to for help. But the source I know I must turn to the most, daily - hourly even, is my Heavenly Father. He said I can do all things through Him. I would assume that means most things He knows I cannot do without Him. I am not equipped to handle this on my own and so He is reassuring me that's okay and He is fully aware of my need for Him. The trick is I need to be aware of my need for Him. And let me tell you, there is nothing like losing your spouse and raising kids on your own for making you keenly aware of your need for Him.

I went to the Beth Moore conference here this weekend. She said so many great things but the one thing she said that really has played over and over in my mind was this statement, "Whatever you are called to do in this life, if it is manageable to you, then that is most certainly NOT your calling. You haven't found it yet. Because when you find it, it will be something you cannot do on your own. You must have the Lord to help you do it." As I told Jim, when I got home, that must make us smack dab in the middle of God's will for our lives! Because grieving losing Troy and Andrea, raising 6 obedient kids to know the Lord, running a large loud bustling home AND being newly married seems quite unmanageable at the moment.

Beth also made the statement that our theology, as Believers, needs to become our reality. In other words, the rubber needs to meet the road now with my faith and trust in the fact that the Lord KNEW from before He laid the foundation of this earth that I would have 5 children, lose my husband and still be expected to trust Him for all our needs and carry on in a manner pleasing to Him. He KNEW Jim's prayer for Andrea's physical healing would not come in this life and he would be left to raise two young men, continue to work his day job and stand as a man of unshakable faith. And He KNEW that Jim and I were meant to be together, with this gaggle of children, to stand up and glorify Him. He knew the plans He had for us. Christ is the one holding the other half of the map. I think He purposely hangs onto it so we cannot look too far down the road (it might be too scary) and we will see how much we need him (making the scary things less scary).

"I lift my eyes to the hills - where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of Heaven and earth." Psalm 121:1

We must carry our crosses and the Lord will carry us. I think that means He's actually the one carrying it all. Thank you Jesus.