Even when it feels like the light is fading
And I’ve lost my way
Still I’m holding on to the One who’s making
All things possible
Even when it feels like my heart is breaking
Hold on, there is strength
Knowing I belong to the One who’s making
All things possible
I know mountains can move
I’ve seen what You can do
In my weakness
So my heart will believe
If I wait I will see
My God doing, what only He can do
My God is strong and mighty
My God is faithful
My hope is in the Lord
For He is able
Easter means Spring and “He Is Risen” to me. That cake looks good. I really need to “feel Good Friday” this year. That’s some great advice for us all. I live in a somewhat challenging neck of the world. It’s not Paris, let’s just say that. People don’t go around saying “I love you” every few minutes around here. I know there’s a reason I’m here, though. Lightworkers are often put in challenging environments to bring in light and love to them. It doesn’t make it any easier, in fact, knowing that you’re here to lift everyone around you sometimes can seem like the weight of the world is on your shoulders. Christ is a Master Teacher and my Savior. Whenever I feel low or empty, He fills me up. He gives me strength to carry on and to stay positive on my path. He keeps me grounded and focused. How else do us single mom’s carry on? We’re in a tight knit relationship with Christ. His truth is in us. His words carry us and His love guides us. I just wish the Holy Spirit would spark a huge revival on a global scale that overtakes the whole world. Sigh. There I go with lofty thoughts, again. Sometimes I think that’s what it would take to bring Jesus back again: that huge revival! Well, maybe he is already back, who knows?
All I know is I love Jesus and what he stands for and what he has done for me and for all of humanity. I also know that greater works are in store and are one the way. I’m feeling Good Friday. He died for me, for forgiveness of my sins and for me to have new life. He did the same for you. He rose on the third day because he defeated the devil and death through his love and truth. You and I must use love and truth as our weapons too. Good Friday marked the beginning of humanity’s redemption and our access to a new partnership with Jesus and God and the Holy Spirit. It was an amazing Friday: it marked the beginning of humanity’s opening to the Holy Trinity. Universal Access, eh?
The six month anniversary of my best friend’s death was mid-February but it hit me about two weeks ago on a Friday night. My daughter was at her Dad’s for the weekend and my fiance was working late. It was a time when I would have called her to go out to dinner or, come over. I immediately picked up the phone to do so and the emptiness that followed, the hollowness in my space, the silence in the air, was groundbreaking.It was a crack in my heart and a breakthrough in my grieving process. I had come to realize she really was “gone” or, not here, in a new and different way.
Before that day, it hadn’t really settled in. I’d been toying with bargaining and flirting with the idea that she’d somehow return soon. That Friday night, it hit me like a ton of bricks the finality of her loss. No more dinners. No more card games. No more phone calls. No more nothing. It hurt. It hurt like hell.
I sunk. I sunk really low. Bottled up in this new level of seeing she wasn’t coming back, the depression swarmed over me like rain clouds from the heaviest of storms. Rain, it did. It’s still raining. I don’t pick up the phone to call her anymore. For, I have accepted she really isn’t here anymore. I just cry, instead. My daughter and I talk about memories of her and look at old pictures. We named a star after her. I like to pretend the brightest star in the night’s sky is her and talk to that one, believing it is her. I tell her all the things I need to say, like, “I miss you. I love you. I’m so sorry you went too soon. I want you back. I hope you’re in a better place and I know we’ll meet again, someday.”
Friday nights are still difficult. For the past 17 years we spent most weekends together, she and I. It was our girl time together. Whether just she and I or, with our significant others, we always made it time that we shared together. I see her there at my kitchen table telling me how yummy my meatloaf hamburgers are. I see her piling the ketchup on it and then, scarfing it down. I see her loving on me and then, I see her reflection in the stars.
Maybe she is around, watching over us. I can still feel her presence sometimes when I make meatloaf hamburgers or when we play cards. It’s like she’s an inch or a layer away just cheering me on through my sadness for her. Yeah, it’s like that and when I touch that presence of her I know that everything’s okay and that there is a God and an afterlife. I do believe.
This grief stuff takes all that you’ve got to get through it and it teaches you lessons of: patience, strength, forgiveness, grace and mercy. I’m grateful for these lessons and love.
I miss you, Solai and I want you to know that I think about you everyday. I know that this, too, shall pass. You taught me that. Thank you for all of the things you taught me. Mostly, thank you for teaching me how to love and be loved; how to be a better friend; how to be strong and be a Goddess. Thank you for always being there for me even when I couldn’t be there for myself.
I love you like rainbows!
This is only a moment
You don’t have to let your fear control it
Even when it looks big
Even when you feel small
Just a little faith
Can change it all!
Tell it to move,
It will move!
Tell it to fall,
It will fall!
A little bit of faith,
Will change it all!
When I fix my eyes on all that you are
Then every doubt I feel deep in my heart
Grows strangely dim
All my worries fade and fall to the ground
Cuz when I seek your face and don’t look around
Any place I’m in
Grows strangely dim, dim
I don’t know, I don’t know
What tomorrow may hold
But I know that you’re holding it all…