Blast from the Past

This afternoon on my commute home, I was listening to a random WMA playlist I created in 2005. At the time I was 4 years out from losing my best friend and fiancé to metastatic melanoma (July 23, 2001 -- RIP). I had been out of school for 2 years and had my current job for about a year. I had yet to meet my husband. The songs I chose for this playlist seem completely random; I've got Incubus, Nickelback, and Default playing right after Faith Hill, SheDaisy, and Rascal Flatts, then I've got the Beatles and Creed playing after Allison Kraus and Nickel Creek. Yet, when I listen to the music in this seemingly random playlist, I return to some of the emotions I struggled with during those times. Honestly, the emotions I'm struggling with now are pretty similar. Then, as now, the words of Creed's Six Feet from the Edge keep reverberating through my mind, "Now that its over, reflecting on all of my mistakes, I thought I found the road to somewhere, somewhere in His grace. I cried out, 'Heaven save me,' but I'm down to one last breath, and with it let me say, let me say... Hold me now, I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking, 'maybe six feet ain't so far down'."

In 2005, like now, from the outside everything seemed normal. Strangers and aquantances saw a young woman going through life with a smile. True friends and family saw that behind the smile lurk tears of loss, sadness, despair, and insecurity. Physically I looked fairly well put together. I still eschew make-up for the most part. My hair was even similarly styled, which is to say unstyled. The 7 years since I arranged that playlist have been filled with momentous changes: marriage to my new best friend, my mom's cancer diagnosis, creation of 6 souls (even though only 2 made it to birth), my cancer diagnosis and subsequent fight for a healthy body. Yet, here I am, fighting the same inner demons I thought I'd vanquished.

Then, I was still reeling from my fiance's death even though the general population thought I'd grieved enough. Now, I'm still reeling from the loss of my relatively healthy body even though the general population thinks I'm "cured". The general opinion that I should be further along in my recovery never ceases to erode my self-confidence--just as it did then. However, when I parked my car in my driveway this afternoon, the biggest differences in then verses now were dancing on my back porch: Andrew, Simon, and Rachel. Earlier this evening, as Andrew hugged me as I silently wept, first Rachel, and then Simon climbed into our arms. With two active, healthy, and compassionate children like them, there is no time to wallow in tears. Even though my life is still in tatters, watching my two children interact with one another and us weaves the fabric of my life back into one piece. Oh, the mended places are still weak and prone to tears, but the overall effect is one of wholeness. Combining the theraputic effect of my children and husband with the graces from my Father in Heaven is the only way I'm able to continue on mending my tattered life time and time again.

To me it seems as though I'm constantly begging for your prayers and intercession for the bombshells that shred the tapestry of my life. I feel like a whiner and drama-queen at times because it seems as though there is *always* something devastating to me. When others tell me I'm strong, an inspiration, or some-such, the bleakness in my mind doesn't receive the soothing effects of the words. All I see is that once again, I'm humbled to have to beg for more prayers for the seemingly endless string of catastrophes in my life. I don't see strength in my actions, I only see that I have two choices: to completely give up or to continue to fight even though I am weak. I don't see the inspiration in my struggles because I know that at times I ask God to just release me from my prison. Yet, deep down, I know that God and you are pulling for me. Even when all I see are the solid bars of my prison, you ask God to light me from above, and He does. Oh, sometimes I don't see the light because I'm too busy closing my eyes to fight the darkness. Eventually, I open my eyes and see a new day where the bars of my prison turn into a ladder out of the depths of despair. This wouldn't be possible without intercession from you here on earth, the Saints in Heaven, and God's will. So here I am, asking for your intercession once again... Please hold me in your thoughts an prayers because I know that is how I've made it this long. Thank you!