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Have you ever heard someone describe themselves as "honest to a fault"? What is that? What is with the false nobility? All that means is that you don't have the capacity to filter your thoughts and know when it's appropriate to say something, and when it's appropriate to keep your thoughts to yourself.
A friend of mine recently told me his wife instructed him that 80% of the things that enter his mind should never escape those confines.
What troubles me is that the people I've heard describe themselves this way actually see it as a positive thing. I've heard people say some horrible things to others under the disguise of honesty, when in fact, it's a demonstration of one's lack of self-control or self-importance.
People who describe themselves this way should take notice of the word "fault". This means it's wrong. They should learn to control their thoughts so they don't escape out of the mouth and hurt someone. While they're at it, they should learn to protect their minds so those things never enter their thoughts in the first place.
Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.~Philippians 4:8
I've added a new song to my song list in the right column of this page. If you scroll down far enough, the latest song will begin to play. It's an oldie by Andrae Crouch called Through It All. This song is particularly relevant for several reasons. One particular reason is because during the week after my mom's passing, the music director from my church approached me and asked if I'd be up to singing this particular song on Palm Sunday. Being very familiar with the song, I agreed right away. Not because it's a great song, but because I needed to sing that song. I needed to believe that song.
I didn't do the second verse. I only sang verses one and three. The first verse opens up with the very poignant words, "I've had many tears and sorrows". My challenge was to make it beyond that first phrase. But the verse I knew would be especially meaningful to me was the third verse.
I thank God for the mountains,
I thank Him for the valleys,
I thank Him for the things He's brought me through,
For if I'd never had a problem,
I wouldn't know that He could solve them,
I'd never know what faith in God could do
Yeah, you understand now.
In my bible study last Monday, the pastor began our time by saying something which jolted my soul. He said "impatience is evidence of a lack of faith and trust."
Wow.
Even writing that quote caused me to stop and ponder it. When we're going through the valleys of life, we want to get out of them as quickly as possible. But the only way to get out of them is to go through them. Getting through these times requires great faith and trust. It requires the willingness to learn from every single detail of the experience. It means capture all the scripture and wise quotes you can, and memorize them and carry them with you. Those quotes reverberate in my head and heart and literally keep me from losing it.
I've said it many times before, and I have to continually remind myself that I must let go of the things which are out of my control, and apply wisdom and tenacity to the things which are in my control.
With that, I remain in a particular valley. Others have been through difficult times, more so than mine. But the battles I face are real and significant enough to me to challenge me in every meaningful way. There is only one way through the valley...and I don't walk it alone.
Through it all,
Through it all,
I've learned to trust in Jesus,
I've learned to trust in God,
Through it all,
Through it all,
I've learned to depend upon His word.
I'm telling you, I feel as if the last 9 months of my life have been some kind of time warp of life experiences. I've received many private notes from those who have read about the things which have been happening in my life over the past several weeks, and you have all touched my heart. But time marches forward, and so must I.
As I reviewed and updated my resume, I really hated the picture it painted. I am pretty much painted into a professional corner. With getting laid off from three different jobs in the last six months or so, I can't say I was exactly energized to begin the job search process again.
Last Monday, I sat down and just looked at my resume. Then I looked at the typical online job sites.
Good grief. Really? Are you kidding me?
But then an idea was presented to me. My "GBFF" (Girl Best Friend Forever), as we jokingly refer to one another, (I'm her "BBFF"), called me and said that the law firm she does some side work for could really use some help. They would resort to sending one of their staffers on court runs to the local courts. This would literally take them out of the office for hours at a time, and from work they could be doing which generates income. It would be much more sensible to outsource that kind of stuff to someone. The attorney in her office is also a friend. They have been very supportive and encouraging, and offering some invaluable insight. He'd much rather hire me to do that than send someone from his office.
DING!
I wasn't sure at first. Sounds kind of dumb, being a courier. It didn't sound terribly glamorous or prestigious. But then I was quickly reminded that this isn't about how stuff looks to others. This isn't about impressing other people with my job title. This is about making my own business, and doing it better than anyone else.
I went on a few runs last week, and it was actually really interesting. My friend is a Family Law attorney, so my runs last week included a couple trips to the Family Law Court in Sacramento. I'm telling you, this was a feast for my people-watching eyes. It literally looked like a casting call for an episode of COPS. Aside from that, this work is really intriguing. I have always been fascinated by the legal profession and processes. There are so many little details. Things have to be done properly, or you've got big problems. This isn't mindless work. It really does challenge my mind, which I need.
I enjoyed being out in the beautiful weather. I enjoyed making my own hours. I enjoyed the freedom to go see my dad for a couple hours since I was only about 5 miles from him. I think I could get used to this! But that would mean selling out to this idea, and really giving up on the traditional job searching. I can't be successful in building my business or in a job search if I had one foot in both places. I have to completely go for one or the other.
We designed and printed some business cards by computer just to have something. This week, I have driven all around the area with the yellow pages laid open on my passenger's seat. I targeted the law offices I found within ten miles, and stumbled upon a few I hadn't targeted. So far, every one of them have been receptive. I think I even have four or five committed clients already! I'm not limited to my immediate area, which is actually fun for me. I'd love to get at least twenty clients on board within the next week or two. I don't care who they are or where they are.
I have to admit, cold-calling people is 100% out of my comfort zone. But as the saying goes, necessity is the mother of all invention. I'm in a place where necessity is a driving force, and I can't afford to sit around hoping for interviews. I'm done being a slave to this economy and the numbers game. With a brain, ambition and determination, this can really work. I'm done being the one who gets beaten down. It's time to do some of the beating.
It's time to try harder!
It's really an odd phenomenon when you get about a year's worth of life in a seven day span. Your emotions, your mind, your everything just goes into passenger mode. It's like you just make sure your seatbelt is buckled and your seat backs and tray tables are all in the upright position.
So much has happened since my mother's death, and that much more has happened even since her funeral last Thursday. One thing I'd like to focus on as a subject is the wonderful blessing that has blossomed from this difficult time.
I have a step brother named Matt. He is about four years older than I am. In fact, I was an incoming freshman in high school the fall after he graduated. Matt and I were raised in different homes, and we were a few years apart, but we ended up being a little bit closer as kids than my oldest step brother, Larry, and even my older brother, John.
Matt and I didn't have a lot in common, but I think we both have some important things in common. We're both very emotional and sentimental. In my mom's final weeks and months, Matt was the one who made it a point to spend time with my parents. But it wasn't only Matt. He brought Anita and her son Edward. I don't know a lot about their relationship, but I can see by looking at them that they are perfect together. There is such a special connection they have. It's way beyond romance. They have a special friendship, too.
Edward. Wow. This kid is just amazing. After my mom passed, Edward went to his class and got permission to have each classmate write a personal note to my dad expressing their sympathy for his loss. They've never met my dad, and really, Edward hasn't even had a good chance to know him long or very deeply, himself. Yet, Edward felt this deep connection with Dad. This connection inspired a thought like nothing I've ever heard.
At my mom's viewing last Wednesday, Edward arrived with Matt and Anita, and presented my dad with a folder bursting with personal letters from each member of his class. Some drew pictures, but each shared their own individual thoughts and care to a man they have never met, and likely, will never meet.
This is a sixth grade class, mind you.
This just blew our minds. My dad sat down and read each and every note from Edward and his class. This blessed us so incredibly. How in the world do you express how full your heart is when someone does something like that? It's simply not possible.
Tonight, after a pretty full day, my phone rang. It was Anita. Matt's head was pretty much pressed next to hers as he was able to respond to everything I was telling her. It was pretty cool, actually.
One special byproduct of this very difficult time is the amazing resurrection that has happened in our family. It had been many years since Matt and I have spent any meaningful time together. It wasn't because of animosity or anything. We just each had separate lives made that much more separate by many miles. But now, that's all changed. No, we're still many miles apart, but we're connected by a special bond that no amount of miles can, or should weaken.
Family.
I'm grateful to God for life coming from death. I'm thankful that resurrections can only happen in graveyards. My mom lives in each one of us as we carry memories and her influence in us. By our love and relationships, she will always remain alive in our hearts.
OK, where to begin? I don't even know. Here is a basic rundown of events over the past 10 days:
- March 20: Mom passes away
- March 21-24: Reeling and dealing
- March 25: Mom's viewing from 2-8 PM
- March 26: Mom's funeral
- March 27: Laid off from my job
- March 28-Present: More reeling and dealing
Yeah, that's a real basic run down of the past week and a half. Nice, huh? Here's what I've learned about myself in these 10 days, and what I'm trying to do to not fall apart.
I have learned that when someone experiences the loss of a loved one, people instinctively respond with either one of two responses. Sometimes both. "She's in a better place" and "she's not suffering anymore".
While both statements are equally true, they miss the point of mourning. I am not sad for my mom. Heck, I'm actually envious. I wish I was at the feet of Jesus absent from human suffering. I'm sad because I miss her. There is a hole in my heart and life which can't be filled by words. I will never hear her voice again, or kiss her or hug her. I miss all that.
Here's the latest platitude now that I'm once again unemployed: "When God closes a door, He opens a window."
Wow. Yeah, that's not going to pay my bills.
Here's the deal. I know without a shadow of doubt that every single person who has uttered those words to me over the past 10 days had the most wonderful of intentions. I know that. But please understand, once you've heard the exact same phrase a hundred times an hour, those good intentions become annoying. Ever have an itch and start scratching? Ahhh, it feels so good initially. But if you keep scratching the same spot, you're going to break the skin and end up creating a painful cut. It become irritated, and what was once a soothing feeling now has created a whole new affliction.
I was telling a friend the other day that the absolute best and most meaningful comments I got were from friends who said they just didn't know what to say, but they offered their friendship, their time, and any services I might need to get through the week. Whether it was providing a meal, going for a walk, listening, talking, giving me space...whatever.
I don't know that everyone feels the same way I do during these times. I guess I'd just want to caution everyone to avoid the tried and true, rubber stamped responses to people in crisis. Words don't fill holes or heal hurts. Sometimes it's a hug, or just a friend being at the right place at the right time. Or simply availing yourself to them if they do need anything. Simply put, don't feel obligated to say something profound or comforting. It's going to hurt. It's ok to feel pain. That's part of it. Just remind them they're not alone unless that's what they need.
I am so incredibly grateful for the outpouring of love my dad and I have received from so many people during this time. I really am. If I sound like I'm not, I've failed at what I'm trying to say.
Alrighty, I guess I've dumped enough for now. Back to trying to find a job. I'm sure I'll be writing more about my feelings on now having to deal with that in addition to dealing with the other events of the week.
Today I drove down to pick Dad up and go to breakfast. We needed to deliver Mom's new dress to the cemetery, but first, we went to IHOP for some morning sustenance. We both needed it.
We enjoyed some good conversation, sharing our feelings and experiences over the past few days. Though we're going through things together, we're also going through our own things. So it was special to kind of unload to someone who knows exactly how it feels.
As the bill came, I reached into my pocket, and Dad stopped me in my tracks with these words:
"Breakfast is on Mom this morning."
That made no sense to me until he continued. He told me that he used to give her money from time to time, though she never went anywhere or needed it. But he would always slip her some money just in case anything happened to him and she needed cash on the spot. He hadn't done that in some time, but it's something he would do.
As he was going through some of her things yesterday, he found her purse. In it was a nice, crisp $20 bill. His first thought was that we would use that to enjoy a nice breakfast together this morning. And when he said it was "on Mom", I instantly thought of the smile it must put on her face that she is still taking care of her men even though she's gone from us.
It just doesn't get any more special than that.
Every year at Christmas and birthdays, I would absolutely agonize over what to get my mom. She was impossible to buy for. Not because she was picky and tough to please, but because what do you get someone who spends 95% of her life in bed? A blanket? New pajamas? She doesn't wear all the ones she has now!
Today, my dad called me because one final task 
needed to be done for her.
She needed a dress.
I went to Nordstrom Rack to find something that I thought represented her well. She hasn't needed a dress for anything for years. Her body was so tiny at the end, anything that would have been in her closet from those days would have practically held two of her.
I found a dress which I think symbolizes the woman she was. It's a simple dress, but oh so beautiful. The fabric is soft and stretchy, much like she was. She was so gentle, yet so flexible. She was graceful in any situation. Back in October for her birthday, I wrote about the time she took me to the race track to watch stock car races. That wasn't her scene at all, but you'd never know it by watching her enjoy doing something her son would love. She cheered from every sideline as I participated in sports. She sat proudly to listen to me sing.
Whatever the occasion, she adapted beautifully.
The dress, as you can see, has long sleeves and a high neck, as she requested. In all things, my mother was modest. Even in her prime, she never wore anything or did anything to distract or draw attention to herself. Oh sure, there was the time she went into Burger King and ordered a Jumbo Jack, but I assure you, that was Mom at her best. She was funniest when it was accidental.
The woman couldn't tell a joke for anything. She had a limited repertoire, but she had a few doozies she had committed to memory. For your enjoyment, I share with you a couple she loved most.
What did Mama Cannonball say to Papa Cannonball?
We're going to have a beebee.
Why did the elephant stand on the marshmallow?
So he wouldn't fall in the hot chocolate.
You didn't laugh so much because they were funny, but because in her own way, her own cuteness, her own comedic ineptness, she was hysterical.
Back to the dress.
While understated, it's elegant and classy. That very much described my mother. She didn't have flashy jewelry, but she didn't need it. She had an elegance which only made everything else that much more beautiful.
This last dress was an honor for me to buy her. This last dress is my final tangible gift to this beautiful woman. The cool thing is, I know she'd like it.
