Inside: A blog anniversary, a sad-but-hopeful book, what to remember when the answer is no, and what I did with my funeral dress. ~
In the blur that was September, I completely missed my blog anniversary.
Nine years doesn’t come with all the bells and whistles of other milestone dates, but it can still be noteworthy. At times, remarkably so.
For example, in our ninth year of marriage, Randy and I adopted our first child. I could write an entire book’s worth of blog posts about how that event, along with the subsequent addition of daughter No. 2 three years later, changed our lives for good.
The ninth anniversary of this blog doesn’t come close to all that in terms of significance. But when something has been an important part of your life for that long, it’s still helpful to pause for a moment and reflect on it.
How We Got Here
Several years after entering the blogosphere with a space called “Waxing Gibbous,” I transitioned to a tagline of “Strength for Today • Hope for Tomorrow.” The change came the year after my parents died, when I was looking for ways to be more intentional about encouraging readers to persevere in their own lives and faith.
That remains my passion today. And I’m so grateful to all of you who have followed along, for however long you’ve been here.
By the way, if you visit occasionally from blog linkups or other places, I would love for you to subscribe so you don’t miss a thing. Look for the heading “Follow Blog Via Email” on the sidebar, enter your address and follow the instructions in the email you receive.
Now that we’ve looked back nine years, it’s time review the last several weeks with the latest installment of Share Four Somethings. Starting with …
• Something Loved
I love it when I have the opportunity to meet blogger friends in person. On our way to North Dakota in September, Randy and I stopped to say hi to Trudy Den Hoed, who has been a huge encouragement to me for many years. We initially met up with Trudy and her husband on an earlier trip north, and it was good to see them again.
Later in the month, I had the joy of meeting Natalie Ogbourne for the first time. I think I first connected with Natalie in my comment section, then later reached out to her on Instagram for some advice when my family and I were planning our first trip to Yellowstone National Park. (Her Instagram name is “Your Yellowstone Guide,” if that tells you anything about her knowledge and enthusiasm about this incredible place.)
I was traveling through her vicinity last month, and we got together in Pella, Iowa, for coffee and a lovely conversation. It’s always fun when you look down at your watch, realize you’ve been talking for 1 1/2 hours and wish it wasn’t time for you to get back on the road.
• Something Read
It’s been a while since I shared quotes from a book that was especially meaningful to me. This month, I have several from Hope Is the First Dose: A Treatment Plan for Recovering from Trauma, Tragedy, and Other Massive Things by Lee Warren.
Warren is a neurosurgeon and former combat surgeon in Iraq. He’s written about those facets of his life in other books, but in this one, he focuses primarily on the tragic loss of his nineteen-year-old son. It’s a profoundly sad story, but I appreciated Warren’s insights about grief, loss and recovering from traumatic events. Here’s what he has to say about …
The importance of remembering:
“There’s a huge amount of power in memory: not in going back and looking at all the mistakes, all the fear and shame, but in remembering the fact that whatever you felt in times past, somehow God got you through it. He made it possible for you to survive it.”
What feelings can lead to:
“Feelings are not facts but rather neurochemical events that can be challenged,” Warren writes. “But left unchecked they reliably produce a set of thoughts and behaviors that we program into our muscle memory over time: When I feel this, I think that, eat this, drink that, buy this, do that, say this, call that person, blame this person, etc. Thoughts become things.”
Physical and emotional rehab, and deciding not to participate in our own demise:
“We must believe that the pain of moving forward will produce improvement and healing, while the slow failure of staying put will lead only to more, and eventually inescapable, agony.”
and
“We cannot wait to be pain-free before we decide to fight for life again, because life is never pain-free, and some things never stop hurting.”
• Something Learned
No is an answer.
I didn’t really learn this, but I was reminded of it.
Truth is, doors sometimes remain shut when we knock. If we are holding our desires loosely and trying to trust God with every outcome, the sting of no is tempered by the truth that He knows what is best for us.
In other words, if the answer we were hoping for didn’t come, it’s not part of His loving plan. No matter how disappointing it is in the moment.
• Something Shared
In a post called Grief Notes, my friend Linda wrote about losing eight loved ones in eight years, and what allowed her to “experience grace toward [herself] in the immensity of it all.”
Her words about how God has healed her heart prompted me to share a recent example of how I’ve seen that in my own life. Here’s what I wrote in my comment to her:
“Just last week, I pulled out the black dress I’ve only ever worn to my parents’ funerals to see if it would work for a fundraising banquet for a local crisis pregnancy center. It was perfect. No lingering sadness, just the thought that my parents would have supported the cause too if they were still here. Wearing the dress again felt like a kind of redemption, if that makes any sense.”
What I didn’t mention was that, while I happily wore the dress, I decided to donate my funeral shoes. They hurt my feet and I never really liked them anyway.
The moral of the story? As we heal from our grief, we get to decide what to bring with us into a more joyful future and what we’d rather let go of for good.
• • •
Now it’s your turn. Have you celebrated any significant “off-year” anniversaries in your life? Read any good books lately? Learned or relearned any lessons? Please share in the comments, or tell us a different way you’ve seen God working in your life lately.
♥ Lois
Sometimes doors remain shut when we knock. But when we hold our desires loosely, the sting of no is tempered by the truth that God knows what is best for us. Share on X As we heal from our grief, we get to decide what to bring with us into a more joyful future and what we’d rather let go of for good. Share on XP.S. I’m linking up this week with sharefoursomethings, Inspire Me Monday, #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.
Fall photo by Esther Ware.
26 comments
Happy 9 years, Lois! So grateful for you and getting to follow Jesus with you via your poignant writing!
And I am grateful for you and your faithful encouragement all these years, Bethany. 🙂
I understand forgetting your blog anniversary! I have been blogging on my family blog since 2011, and my book blog for about 2 years…but time goes by and it gets hard to remember how many years it is, LOL! So awesome you got to meet two blogger friends in person, what a blessing!!
It really was a blessing, Cindy. And that’s amazing you’ve been blogging for so long! 🙂
Congrats on all the years of blogging. Making friends along the way and for all the encouragement to so many!! I still have a “funeral dress” in the back of my closet. No idea why I have not passed it on…but have not worn it either. Your thoughts now have me thinking – which is a good thing. Thanks. Have a blessed month ahead!!
Haha, Jennifer … I’m glad that my prompting you to think is a good thing! Thanks for your kind words about all those years of blogging. In some ways, it seems like I began yesterday. In other ways, it feels like a lifetime ago!
Your 4 somethings add up to so much. Thanks for sharing them here and for making time to spend some time with me. It was a delight!
Yes, it was! Hoping to jot down some thoughts about your writing soon … reading it inspired me to go through more than 600 photos from Yellowstone and get prints. Now I’m trying to pick eight for a frame. Out of 145. (Yikes!)
An amazing journey of God’s grace Lois with your blog, daughters & in your grief! Isn’t He just awesome!
As you know I too have been on a journey with grief (which is actually life long) having lost two of my children & my late husband to brain cancer. And yes, we do get to choose what we take forward & what we let go of…as we travel on this journey.
To answer your question; I’ve had a beautiful month this month with a blessing beyond measure which I’ll share in a post soon. 😉
Blessings, Jennifer
So glad you’ve had a beautiful month, Jennifer. I’ll keep an eye out for your post about that. 🙂
Lots of good stuff in this post! Happy 9th blog anniversary! We’re a celebratory family. I like celebrating things large and small and in-between.
How fun to meet a blog friend in person! One of my best friends is someone I met through our blogs somehow, and she moved to my town , where her two sons live.
Amen to God’s answers of “no.” I’m so thankful He didn’t give me some of the things I thought I wanted.
The dress I wore to my mom’s funeral was was one I had owned for years but was on its way “out.” I mainly wore it because it was black but not somber. I didn’t want to buy something new. (I have a hard time finding clothes I like that fit well.) I didn’t have any emotional connections with having worn it for her funeral. But I remember years ago one of my mom’s friends saying she could never again wear the dress she had worn to a particular funeral.
But for many years, I had trouble getting rid of anything my mom gave me. Her love language was giving. Christmas and birthday presents were often an accumulation of little things she had picked up through the year. When you get to be on the far side of middle age, though, you find you have a lot of “stuff” and not as much room to store it all. I have to remind myself that I have plenty of things that she gave me that have special meaning or associations–it’s not diminishing her memory if I get rid of something I don’t want or need any more. And even if I didn’t have any tangible items from her, I have her memories and her love.
Barbara, that is so cool that you met one of your best friends through blogging! I understand not wanting to wear certain funeral clothes ever again even as I’m thankful that I no longer feel that way about my dress. I appreciate your perspectives about holding on to meaningful things, and how it’s OK to release them eventually. You’re right … we’ll always have our parents’ memories and love, even if we no longer have any of their “stuff.”
Oh Lois, you have no idea how much we appreciated you and Randy taking the time to stop in here. Your thoughtful visit made both of us feel special. And your “freed to fly” gift and kind encouragement was used by God to revive my heart to keep going with my blog even if it’s only an occasional post. I thank my God for you and all your encouragement you have given me over these past years and are still giving. 🙂
I love the depth of meaning in the book’s quotes. Linda’s post really touched me, too. And thank you for sharing your redeeming experience with your black dress and black shoes. That was a tough step.
And I can easily see what significance “9” is to you. I’m so happy you were blessed with two precious daughters! And congratulations on 9 years of blogging! Love, hugs, and blessings to you, dear friend!
Aw, Trudy … thank you for your kind words. I’m so glad we were able to drop in for a visit and that the “freed to fly” gift was an encouragement to you. 🙂 Love and hugs, dear friend.
Congratulations on 9 years of blogging, Lois! I know I have been blessed to meet with you here over the past 4 years.
Such a fun month altogether, especially meeting blogger friends!
Thanks, Donna! I’m so glad our blogging paths crossed four years ago. I love your heart. 🙂
Yes, 9 years with a blog does deserve recognition too so congratulations, Lois! I wonder what year I started reading your words. I feel like I’ve been following you for quite some time (and thankful for it!). I’m jealous that you got to see both Trudy and Natalie in person. I follow both of their blogs too and find them both delightful women.
I haven’t read Hope Is the First Dose, but I did read, and was very moved by, his book, I’ve Seen the End of You. Now I’ll have to read this one too!
I love, love, love the moral of your story about wearing your funeral dress but donating your funeral shoes. Beautiful. I’ve been so blessed to get to know you even better this year. I’ll keep waiting on that video about the dress!!! 🙂
Trudy and Natalie are delightful women indeed, Lisa! I’m pretty sure I first read about I’ve Seen the End of You on YOUR blog, so now I get to introduce you to Warren’s next book. 🙂 You might be waiting for a while on that video … I’ve practiced a few times but have yet to find a spot that puts me in a not-horrible light (groan). Maybe I should try my car! You are a blessing in my life as well.
There’s a reason so many people make videos in their cars!
Yeah, I’m definitely gonna try it!
It’s not an off-year story but an off-day. My husband and I got married 40 years ago on February 13th and we’ve been asked many times (and asked ourselves) why didn’t we wait until Valentine’s Day. But it’s lasted 40 years and still going strong so I guess it worked. LOL
I love it, Donna! Your marriage is still going strong and the date still makes for a good story, even after all these years. 🙂
I LOVE the image of the dress goo forward and the shoes left behind. We really do need to be selective and free with our attachment to the past.
That’s a good way of putting it, Michele .. “selective and free with our attachment to the past.”
I’ve been thinking about your black dress experience ever since you shared your story, Lois. It will stay with me for a long time. Clothing has such significance to us for so many reasons … the sight, the feel, the scent, the memories. I’m touched that you’ve shared our conversation this week.
My sister has several pieces of clothing that were Mom’s. The sight of her pink jacket jolts me back to Mom’s final season. It’s not a pleasant experience for me. But I’m guessing that wrapping that piece of Mom’s around her shoulders on these chilly mornings is giving her a warm sense of her presence.
And Mom would be thrilled about that
xo
Oh Linda … isn’t it interesting the different ways in which we grieve, and also the varied ways we find comfort? Your sister sounds very much like one of mine. I was touched by the conversation over at your place … I think it’s good to look back and see how far we’ve come, both for ourselves and also to give others hope that they won’t always feel how they might be feeling today. So thankful for you, dear friend.