With Me in the Valley

 I understand why they say that you shouldn’t make a big life decision soon after a tragedy occurs. I see a lot of wisdom in that. You’re not thinking clearly; it’s hard to think rationally and realistically without emotions clouding our minds. But sometimes, tragedy becomes a catalyst for changes that needed to happen. Sometimes it can become a wakeup call- in a jolting-awake kind of way. That is what I have experienced, now six months after losing my father-in-law; there is no way for me to see life differently and go back to what was. 

I think about this a lot these days- You can’t trade time. You can’t get it back or change what was. All we get on this earth are moments together that become memories. God gives us the time He has allotted for our lives, and it truly is a gift.

We lost Mike at the end of March. It was a shocking, unexpected loss that brought the tidal waves of grief heavily. He had battled throat cancer the last year of his life and came out of it cancer-free after enduring torturous radiation in his throat. He was a month out from recovering from a major neck and spine surgery that was improving his quality of life so much. He went to sleep talking about how excited he was to get out hunting and enjoying being outside again, and then he woke up in Heaven. 

We as a family faced many times in the last year of Mike’s life where we wondered if we might lose him. Radiation and illness and nerve pain and everything else wore his body down, and it was so heartbreaking to watch. Those memories and scary moments are still haunting. But when he came out the other side of a major surgery so smoothly, we didn’t fear we would lose him.

I’m thankful for that last month with him- that his pain wasn’t as intolerable as it had been, and that we got to make more special memories. But I wish we had had more time. 

It’s an interesting conflict of emotions as a believer. I know Mike is with Jesus right now. No pain, no suffering. I hope he’s fishing and laughing his big laugh, singing hymns and dancing. But we’re all so broken down here, missing him so much as we approach his 70th birthday this week. 

Praise Lord Jesus for arresting death, for giving me the hope that this isn’t our final home- that death for a believer in Him means eternal life in His presence, but it hurts.

Grief can feel like such an unkind, unwanted creature, but it is also a necessary friend. When it first came to our family, I was a week away from major performances at school starting- the end of the year craziness. I had to be up on a stage, being evaluated while leading my students through the nerves of a festival performances just days after his death. JB was a week into soccer season, where he pours so much of his time and focus into shaping the character and technique of his players. 

The last place I wanted to be was on the highway every day, commuting far from my hurting family. The last place I wanted to be was on a stage, leading multiple concerts and trying to put on a brave face when our entire world was just turned upside down. I knew I needed to work, as we were struggling to make ends meet. But it didn’t feel sustainable. 

I didn’t know what needed to change or if anything could, but I felt turmoil in my soul. 

One month ago, JB and I put our house on the market, and I quit my job. I didn’t see that coming!

I have been staring down my life recently and realizing how tiring it was- how often I was completely depleted. But I was also so thrilled to have the job I did. I had what I felt was my dream job. I was teaching orchestra at a middle school that fed into my high school, getting to start students from the beginning and seeing them through to the end of their high school years. 

I had amazing principals who were extremely supportive of my programs, kind coworkers who worked hard for their students, wonderful families to partner with, and great classrooms. It was such a blessing. 

But the drive was affecting my body. The early hours and draining days were taking a toll. I constantly felt like I was running on empty, but I thought that was just normal, having two toddlers and teaching.

In addition to the stress of my job, our finances weighed heavily on us. JB and I made a beautiful home together- one we were so thankful for and proud of. JB and I started our lives there and brought our two babies home there. We put a lot of time and money into fixing up our place and making it welcoming and “us”. But we also came together every month, struggling through the weight of debt and a tanking economy. 

I turned to JB one night with a crazy idea that became a reality- what if we sold our house, paid off our debt, and moved in with his mom while we saved up? 

We prayed and prayed about it. We wrestled with finding other solutions to disrupt what we wanted to change. We sought counsel from friends and financial advisors. But when JB’s mom said she had been wondering the same thing for us, we felt like God had been preparing all of us for this change for a while. 

JB and I moved into Jan’s house in three days. Much like our story of knowing we were meant to spend our lives together, we acted swiftly once the decision was made. 

I woke up on my 30th birthday in a different home, still processing the decision we had made only a week before and knowing in my heart it was what was best. 

And although my footing has felt uneasy with all this change, I know Who my foundation is. 

Our old house is closing in a few weeks, and I am a day away from welcoming students into my classroom at a new job. 

So, back to my job…

I have come to realize that a dream job for me isn’t one where I teach exactly what I want all day. It’s not one with prestige or a lot of potential for fame. It’s not one that makes full use of my experiences and skills every single day or moment. I now feel that it is one that gives me time- time to take care of myself, time with family. I long for balance and the ability to tend to the things and people that matter most to me. 

So how did I get here?! A few days after we moved out of our house, I started my seventh year of teaching with Anchorage School District. My two classrooms were set up, my repertoire was chosen, lesson plans for the first week written, and I was ready to stare down the beast of spinning all the plates again. And then, an opportunity came my way. 

I heard from a friend that the music teacher at a program close to my house just suddenly retired. I pondered it for several hours and thought to myself, “No way am I considering this. No way would I leave what I love, especially now that the school year has started. No WAY am I moving and getting a new job- all within the span of a couple weeks!”

But God had other plans. 

Every door seemed to open. The interview, the interactions. Being released from my contract with the old school district. Getting hired with a new school district.

And all of a sudden, I had three hours to clean out my classrooms I had spent four years in and a short time to hug a few people goodbye. 

God made a way, and now I am teaching music at a homeschooling program that serves about 12% of our school district’s students. A job that is closer to home, slower-paced, and lends to a well-rounded life. Not to mention, it is four minutes down the road from our kids’ daycare. After being nearly 40 minutes away from them every day for five years, my heart is so full. 

My life has been turned upside down, and you know what? It has been a huge blessing. I get to take my kids to school every day and soak in that time together. I have friends who I have known for years as coworkers. I am serving the kids in my own community, bringing more orchestra classes to my area. And I come home with so much more energy to get outside with my family or spend quality time with them. 

What a gift!

When talking with my close friends and loved ones about all this crazy change, I have laughed when I think of how “Ruth and JB-esque” this all feels. As I mentioned earlier, we decided to get married quickly. When JB and I know something is right or best, we pause to pray together and then we act diligently.

I’m still adjusting to these life changes- waking up in a different home all of a sudden, living with more family members, going to a different job. I had spent the last six years of marriage and last five of parenthood in the same job and the same place, and I assumed that’s where I would always be. 

But just like my move to Alaska that also started with a “I would NEVER do that” thought, God has led me to a new stage in this adventure with Him- this time with my loving husband and flexible, resilient kids by my side. 

I have never felt closer to JB than I do now. We have walked through the Valley together, holding each other, cherishing each other. Serving one another when the grief and responsibilities of life feel overwhelming. And now we have taken this huge leap of leaving the comfort of our home and our barely-scraping-by American dream for one that we believe is better. 

I have no one else to trust in but Jesus and my husband. We are taking this leap of faith to start fresh with our finances and also to spend time with family, helping where we can. We are taking this leap of me starting a new kind of job, teaching different musical content than I have before and having less on my shoulders. 

Through all of this, I have found more and more areas in my faith that need Jesus’ loving touch. I long to find all sense of security and peace in Jesus- not in my identity as a musician or teacher, or in where or how I live; not in my circumstances in the good or hard times. I want to go where He leads me, looking to Him as we journey on. 

This past year has taught me so much. I have never cried so much or thought about Heaven so much. The kinds of conversations I have with my kids now are so rich and hard and beautiful. The limits I have for taking on tasks are lower. Yet my desire to love and serve those around me is overflowing.

It’s a lot of growing and learning, but I’m never alone or out of His hands. 

I am thankful for a God who has been with me as I wrestle and I doubt and hurt. I am thankful for the gifts of love and relationship He has given me. I am grateful for the hope and promise of eternity with Him! And in the meantime, I’m praising God for these life changes that have given me more time and freedom and stretching than I could have imagined. 

Because You’re With Me, I’ll Be Okay

I’m finally doing it- writing again. There have been several reasons for my lack of words these past few months. The truth is, I have written some, but there are words and news that aren’t mine to share. We have been facing a lot of different things this school year, and the hits seem to keep coming.

I read back on some of my past posts, and I wonder if my outlook would have stayed so optimistic if I had known the difficulties would continue- the sickness, the hard news, the stress.

I’m in that place yet again where another hit has come, and it is time to climb out of the pit and grab Jesus’ hand.

Loving our Little Ones and Seeing them Suffer

It is absolutely gut-wrenching to see your kids so sick, so often. There is a note on my phone that makes me feel ridiculous, and yet I’ve needed it to keep our kids’ ailment timeline straight this year.

When did Ethan have his first of six ear infections this school year? When was Emma’s pink eye, now that Ethan has pink eye? When did they test positive for RSV? And the noro virus awful stomach bug- when was that again? Oh, and hand, foot, & mouth? And then pink eye again? I need this note to keep it all straight during our many visits to the doctor. It’s all disheartening when we are in the midst of this. And I have needed a lot of encouragement- sometimes utterly clinging to it. 

I know this is part of the initiation process to daycare, especially daycare after a year of isolation for all. I am learning what it looks like to walk through a situation that will not immediately get better, and the only way to see some hope is to keep walking in it. I know that time passing can only help our kids build up their immunity.

I sat in my kind doctor’s office, waiting for a prescription for a sinus infection that left me with a fever for a full week last month, and I couldn’t stop thinking about my sweet little ones. I asked through held back tears, “Is it normal for toddlers to be so sick their first year in daycare?”, and he was so comforting. He said, “Unless you want to keep your kids isolated from the world forever, there will be this moment in time where they will have to go through this and adjust to the germs.”

Are you saying there is an option to become the next Alaskan Bush People and “live off the land” (my dad and I watched that show before I moved up to Alaska, and then we were in stitches when I saw the whole family walking around the Fred Meyer parking lot in Juneau my second day in Alaska), away from everyone? Can I take that right now?! 

But he is right. We have to keep walking forward and trusting we will see through the other side one day. Meanwhile, I can choose to trust God and His devoted faithfulness and praise Him that all of these illnesses have been curable and minor in the grand scheme of things. Some days I am in that place of peaceful praise; other days, it’s more of an angsty praise. Both would make great Bath & Body Works scents.

Loving our Family and Friends and Seeing them Suffer

There has been deep shared grief amongst our family as well this year; one valley began just over a week ago with my precious twin sister, Rachel, who gave me permission to share.

There are certain texts you just never forget; “They can’t find a heartbeat” still makes me tear up. Last Friday was a day of shock and deep, deep pain when my dear twin walked into her 16-week OB appointment and walked out knowing her precious baby had stopped growing three weeks ago. 

Amongst the phone calls of anguish with her and the tears cried, I questioned God’s hand in this. Losing a child…why? How do you let that happen, Lord? Is this from Your Hand? Is it supposed to be some lesson in faith growing? Some stretching?

So many questions, and so much pain. I have cried more this year than ever before. And I’m not sure I’ve ever questioned God as much as I have this year.

Crawling Back to Truth

And you know what? I was feeling embarrassed about that. I reached out to dear close friends last weekend, asking for prayer for my sister, and asking for prayer for my faith. I admitted to them that my faith has been shaken and I’m angry. And I’m frustrated about that, because I don’t want a crisis of faith to be tacked onto all of this.

Their responses were nothing but completely empathetic, understanding, and loving. They encouraged me to just be and to pray; to seek Him, even when I don’t want to- not because I “have to” and “it’s the right thing to do”, but because that’s how relationships work. So I limped along and did it, and it is making all the difference.

Just opening up to the Psalms and finding honest and Truth-filled songs on Spotify have softened my heart. I have had long, deep conversations about suffering and this sinful world and God. I have been floored by how close He is to those who suffer, listening to stories and reading stories. Because, after all, He was a Man of Sorrows, well acquainted with grief.

More Thoughts

I don’t need anyone to explain this to me anymore- this world is incredibly broken. There are moments of levity and there are seasons of sweet, light joy. But even when there is not, God is still good. He is still working in it all, taking these broken things and His broken people and drawing us to Himself. We were never promised a carefree, easy life. But we are also never, ever alone.

This year, I have learned a lot about my natural tendencies during difficult times. I do not easily run to God with trust and faith. I feel ashamed of that during somemoments, and yet I know He is not upset or disappointed in me. I am sure it hurts Him to see me turn away in my moments of pain, but He is still waiting there with open arms.

The truth is, I can look at the “hits” of this year and want to blame God. I can feel completely defeated, like JB and I are on this little island of struggle without a life raft, but it’s not true. Not only do we have support and love from many, but we are not alone on this island. When I am able to look up, I turn left and right and see pain and suffering absolutely everywhere right now- in families, in the classroom, on social media... Terminal sickness, dying parents or spouses, deep mental health struggles, broken families, loss of jobs…fear, pain, struggle. There is so much suffering and devastation right now. We need each other, and we need hope. Jesus is that hope- the Only answer. 

The Waves of Grief and the Human State

Me writing this post can make it seem like things are wrapped up in a bow for me- that I’m in this place of sure resolution. But the truth is, I feel at peace right now. Yesterday morning, not so much. I have woken up early every day since Rachel’s news with deep grief and anxiety in my heart. I feel the weight of it all…the sadness that I can’t be with her right now…the stress of trying to tuck that away and get the kids off to daycare and go teach. It is a rollercoaster, for sure. And sometimes, I’m not in a place to wrap it all up with a bow and say, “But you know what? It’s okay.” or, “But I know it’ll all be okay,” or, “I know I’ll be okay.”

I’ve noticed a discomfort with mourning- in myself, and in many others. We try to slap on those Elsa and Olaf bandaids. We try to wish away or even pray away the anguish of the soul. But what if the most loving and healthy thing to do is to acknowledge it and walk through it? To allow ourselves to feel the pain and to wade into the pain with our loved ones who are suffering? 

Life is not a test where we see who can carry the most hardship without breaking. I definitely took pride in being able to handle a lot before this season of difficulty, but for what? Jesus is the One who holds us up. And He certainly is not asking us to slap on a happy face and just “get through it”.

It’s okay to be completely wrecked by grief. To cry with those who are hurting, to wrestle when you see someone you love so very much in pain. To feel like you’re going to explode from the weight of life or the responsibility of parenthood while going through all of this. 

I’ve had to face decisions like, “How much do we share with our kids?”. “Do I cry in front of them or try to keep it private?”. “Do we pull back the veil and share about the deepest losses of life in this very moment?”.

And there have been moments where I have been so overcome by grief that the very thought of making another grilled cheese sandwich, while cleaning up the food left on the floor, and washing the crumbs that somehow cake every side of their plates, all while the cute little toddlers are making each other cry in the other room, has felt….oh you know, just slightly overwhelming. Haha.

And that’s when the beautiful partnership of my marriage, or a sacrificial friend or family member steps in and gives me a break. 

Also, crying a lot has helped. I don’t like to cry. But you know? A sob fest on the way to work is healthy. Breaking down in front of coworkers in a prayer meeting is beautiful. Snuggling on the couch with my husband as I let the tears fall- I’ll never forget these moments.

And I do have to chuckle a little when I think about how 70% of my tears since moving up to Alaska have been while driving on the beloved Glenn Highway. I can only imagine what people have thought as they pass my wrinkled up, blubbery face hahaha… “Man, she must REALLY hate commuting.” Hahaha you have to smile. :)

The Mask Coming Off

I typed up that title and then thought about what that probably means to most people right now; but what I meant, is the mask I can impose on myself to just keep chugging along, tight fists holding onto what I wish life could be like- easy and happy.

But I have certainly taken off this guise of having it all together this year. I have never been so honest with my superiors (or my coworkers) about needing grace and help in this trying time for our family. I’ve been more honest with my students, even when it feels like my absence or my need to shift my priorities lets them down (which I have lived and learned this year…there is absolutely no guilt in that. Honestly, I am working on being at peace with letting others down to take care of my loved ones who need it most). 

And this post is yet another layer of exposing the struggle. And the reason I do it is so very clear to me: life is just too short and just too hard. We all need Jesus. He is the only answer, the only way. And if my sharing sparks even one heart to seek Him with all their questions and doubts, I will share every time.

The Reason: Rachel’s Words

I’m not sure I could put this better than what my beloved Rachel wrote just days after discovering the loss of their child.

Do you want to know if God is real?

He is.

Do you want to know if He loves you?

He does.

How do we know that love?

Because He willingly gave up His Son and watched Him die for us. Because of His love.

His life is the proof.

His death is the proof.

His conquering over death is the proof.

He is alive in Heaven now. 

He is in His Word.

He offers His Spirit.

He is in God’s people. 

He gives us:

Salvation

Purpose

Comfort

Hope

Love

Joy

Freedom

And so much more.

In the anguish of my soul these last few days, I have imagined Jesus’ face as I close my eyes. And do you know what I see? Tears on His face. He hates death. So much so, that He came to conquer it, and one day He will destroy death once and for all. Forever. He is not far. Oh no, He is nearer to me than I have ever felt. I feel I am seeing God face to face. If this isn’t the God you know, then you don’t know the real God.

But you can. Run to Him. Let Him love you right where you’re at.

In:

The questions

The anxiety

The depression

The high stress

The dark nights

The dreary days

The isolation

The anger

The joy

The doubts

The grief

The loss

The change

The pain

The fatigue

The burnout

The sin

The edge of giving up

Healing- it’s what He does.

Love- it’s Who He is.

Salvation- it’s what He offers.

The Reason: My Words

Rachel and I both write and share words, not to look for pity (although let’s be real- I can 100% struggle with wanting that in my hardest moments). We don’t write them, searching for tips on self-care, or to have people worrying for us or sending us frantic notes of, “Please get better soon.” ….there is no “getting better soon”, and that is okay.

Especially in the deepest throes of agony- the “How does normal life still carry on…How do I go to work…How do I parent….with this deep pain?”- the kind of agony that many people around us are experiencing, Jesus is here.

My loved ones’ struggles, my wrestling and pain are hard, for sure. It’s sad. It’s scary. It brings a heaviness to life I didn’t know existed…or at least in my immature mind, I didn’t know people experienced in their 20’s. Ahh young and naive, I know.

But I write this with full conviction- not to look all polished up. Not to make it into a cute little sticker or a quotable thought. Because I’m a mess and still wrestle with God’s role in all of this. But I come back to His Word, and the peace is undeniable.

Jesus is close to the broken-hearted, the poor in spirit. He loves us.

Getting Biblical On You- As If I Haven’t Already:

These words speak for themselves:

“It is the Lord who goes before you. He will be with you; He will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed.” -Deuteronomy 31:8

“For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” -Romans 8:38-39

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.” -Psalm 23:4

“My soul is bereft of peace; I have forgotten what happiness is; so I say, ‘My endurance has perished; so has my hope from the Lord.’

But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. ‘The Lord is my portion,’ says my soul, ‘therefore I will hope in Him.’ The Lord is good to those who wait for Him, to the soul who seeks Him.” -Lamentations 3:17-18

From a devotional I was reading recently…

“We don’t trust in Christ because we want to be blessed. We trust in Christ because of His faithfulness and His promises. If He never does another good thing for us- we can always trust in the love that was displayed on the cross, knowing that was way more than we ever deserved.”

“Every trial you go through has significance when the Savior is involved.”

“You may be facing the perfect storm, but Jesus offers the perfect peace.”

Finishing with…

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as we share abundantly in Christ’s sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort, too.” -2 Corinthians 1:3-5

I Can’t Figure Out How to End this Well

Oh dear friends, maybe this all strikes a chord with you; maybe it doesn’t. I honestly think if I had read this a year ago, I wouldn’t have understood and would have felt like, “Man, this lady is a downer!”. And yeah..sometimes right now, I feel like I am haha. And that’s okay. Because He offers everything I don’t have- everything I need.

And even if this post comes off as crazy or “way too Jesus-y”, you know what? If I’ve learned anything this year….we only have one life to live, and this world sucks. I’m so poetic. :)

God did not cause this suffering, but He did allow it. And He gave me these words to write as I wade through that tangly mess. I hope and pray it brings you some comfort to know you’re not alone, and I also hope and pray this post draws you to question where you’re at in your beliefs, just as this year has been doing for mine. 

Because there is nothing sweeter than trusting in Jesus, especially in these storms.

Okay, for real- this is the end of this post. Listen to these songs: Same God by Hannah Kerr and I’ll Be Okay by Lydia Laird.