Desert Song

The main reason for my recent trip to Toronto was to visit my dear friend Sheena. Yes, the Sheena who opened her apartment to me while she was in the 'burgh and Joe was in the hospital. I've been blessed with amazing friends. She is one of them. Sheena is real.

...I was going to get preachy...but I'll save that for another day. :) (Stop laughing, Sheena!)

While in Toronto, Sheena, Ray, and I attended the Hillsong United Conference. It was this incredible time of praise and worship. Imagine hundreds and hundreds of people filling up a convention center and praising God. A lot of the people were in high school and college, which made us feel old and young all at the same time.

College is really when my faith blossomed. I'm not exactly the same girl now that I was back then. Back then, I was hyper, loud, and bounced off of the walls. (Only the people who knew me then and now can properly recognize that I've mellowed out a bit.) It didn't happen immediately, but at some point I became such a "Jesus Freak" that I'd go up to almost anyone and say, "Come to church!"
"Join the choir!"
"Praise God!"
"Wake up at the crack of dawn and pray with us!"

Yeah...I was pretty intense. In fact, that Karen would likely scare the living daylights out of the present day Karen. One thing has remained constant though...my faith. There have been days when I have felt so incredibly lost and alone that I have questioned my unwavering faith.
"My world has crumbled around me, why in the world am I still trusting in God? Am I just that dumb and naive?"

I don't really have a good answer for that. All I know is that I needed to have faith. I need to have faith. As much as it doesn't make sense - it's the only thing that does make sense. I could ramble endlessly about the cruelties of life. I could proclaim, "Woe is me." I could play the role of poor, poor widow very well. In fact, I've done all that - not proudly. But, I need to believe that there is a reason for all of this. I need to believe that there is a greater purpose in all of this.

I believe that it's my faith that has carried me through the worst days of my life. It is what enabled me to face my grief head-on. It is what transformed my pain into peace and my fear into excitement. It is what allowed me to feel blessed rather than persecuted.

So I found myself at this conference (that's how I started this whole post, remember?). It was such a wonderful experience. It felt like this perfect way to end this year of grief. For the first time in a long time, I found myself really letting go and praising - not just singing. It was so freeing.

I learned several new songs. One of them became my new theme song. Actually, it became a favorite for all three of us...

Desert Song
words & music by brooke fraser

This is my prayer in the desert
When all that's within me feels dry
This is my prayer in my hunger and need
My God is the God who provides

This is my prayer in the fire
In weakness or trial or pain
There is a faith proved of more worth than gold
So refine me Lord through the flame

I will bring praise I will bring praise
No weapon formed against me shall remain
I will rejoice I will declare
God is my victory and he is here

This is my prayer in the battle
When triumph is still on its way
I am a conqueror and co-heir with Christ
So firm on his promise I'll stand

All of my life
In every season
You are still God
I have a reason to sing
I have a reason to worship

This is my prayer in the harvest
When favour and providence flow
I know I'm filled to be emptied again
The seed I've received I will sow

~~~

"Only you can take the widow's cry
And cause her heart to sing"
~ from the song 'Solution' by Hillsong United

One Year

It's been one whole year since my beloved Joe died. What a privilege to love him and be loved by him. He was sweet. He was kind. He was silly. I don't think he had an enemy in the world. He was that lovable. Today, I'm sharing a slide show that our friend Vivian created for his funeral service. It really shows what a joy Joe was.

I know that Joe is going to be waving his terrible towel and cheering up a storm up there in heaven today. GO STEELERS!!!!!!

Ann & Christine

Ann is having a second transplant today. Please keep her and her husband in your prayers...

Christine's sister's cancer has relapsed. It seems so unfair how often cancer keeps striking this beautiful family. Keep them in prayer...

Dream

Last night I had a dream about Joe. I had a dream that he made a miraculous recovery. We were so happy and ran around celebrating for days. We were so happy we forgot to update our blog. People were still sending their sympathies while we were partying. Oooops.

When I woke up from this dream, I was surprised to find that I wasn't sad. I was just happy that I kind of had a few extra days to be with Joe.

The truth is, I've been really happy this past month. Ever since I left Chicago (I guess I haven't shared about that yet...) I have felt this incredible inner peace. My future still holds many unknowns, but my fear has transitioned to excitement. It's a strange feeling for sure - which would explain the tears I mentioned in my last post. Throughout this past year I've had plenty of happy moments, but I haven't actually been happy. If I had too much time to think, I would get sad. If I kept myself busy, I still returned to an empty home and I would get sad. I would sit by myself and feel lonely. I would surround myself with people and still feel lonely. It was a challenge to be real with people, because too often it seemed I would get some pat, generic response. Other times, I would feel smothered with too much concern. Then one day, I woke up and realized that I was happy. Truly, genuinely happy. There is a bit of guilt that creeps into this kind of happiness. Am I disrespecting Joe by being happy? Am I forgetting him? Clearly, the answer is no - although processing and accepting this is still difficult. But, Albert said, "We have been through so much, I think we're entitled to happiness." I'm O.K. with that.

Sunday, September 7 will mark one year since Joe died. That magical one year mark. The day that the world expects you to turn off your grief once and for all and never turn back. Somehow it sounds logical to people, "Well, you can finally move on now." Or, "Well, you have to move on now."

I don't actually believe in grief rules set by anyone. I don't believe in time lines. I don't believe you must be sad at every milestone. I don't believe that tears and sharing stories necessarily means you are holding on too tight. I don't believe that being happy and having fun necessarily means you are running away from grief. I don't believe that you must have alone time or you must surround yourself with people. It truly is a different process for everyone, and I think respecting those differences is important.

Anyway. Right now, I am happy. Yesterday, I was reading some of the cards that Joe sent me over the years, and they made me laugh. I can't believe I had the amazing privilege of being married to him. I feel so blessed.

It's a little early, but I really want to thank everyone for supporting me through this roller coaster ride. Every day I am amazed by how faithful so many of you have been. You have been so generous with your love, time, support, and patience. In my effort to be real about my feelings and experiences, I know that I've talked a lot about DGIs and people saying stupid things. The truth is, the love I've felt has trumped all that stuff I vented about. I wouldn't be where I am spiritually, mentally, and emotionally if I didn't have the amazing support that I have. I really am blessed.

Chop chop

In May 2006, I donated my hair to Locks of Love. It was something that I had wanted to do for years. I knew several people who had already done it - some more than once. Yet, every time I tried to grow my hair out, I would get impatient and end up chopping it off before it was long enough. In 2006, one month before Joe was diagnosed, I finally did it. Joe totally proved that bald is beautiful. Women like Erica have also proven that bald is beautiful. Not all women diagnosed with cancer are prepared to embrace this side-effect though. Cancer is hard enough as it is. With that in mind, I decided after Joe died that I was going to donate my hair again. It's actually the funnest way to make a donation. You get to help someone, and you get a makeover. It's a win-win situation. This time, I decided to donate to Pantene Beautiful Lengths.

I got my hair cut in Toronto. There was no reason for it. I was just up there with friends and it seemed like a fun thing to do. Plus, for my own personal reasons, I wanted to do the chop close to the "one year mark." My friend Cynthia decided to donate too. She had beautiful waist length hair, and donated a foot. Her new 'do is totally hot, don't you think?

I feel like I'm always giving speeches and telling people what to do. But seriously, I know so many people who have happily donated their hair. If you've been blessed with beautiful, long tresses, think about it. It's fun!