The Storm

by wilkedeau on 01/02/2013

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I love to write-period. I have loved journaling since I was a little girl, for me it’s an avenue to vent, express myself, to say things that I might not have said out loud, these are my thoughts, personal feelings and they go no further, but lately I have been writing about my life and really felt like if I put it out there –even a small piece of it-it would help with the healing-silly I know..I can’t explain it. This over whelming pain, this unbelievable betrayal might somehow start to heal. I’m not looking for comments or concern or pity-Just thinking that this could potentially help me begin to heal.Anyone who knew us-our wonderful big family-they knew we were happy, strong, fun, we were envied. I thought we were inevitable. We were forever….My mother repeatedly told me during my childhood two things saved Her and I from a hard road, Jesus Christ and my dad and I believed that….I loved that..my heart would smile when she said that to me. She would tell me the story of how He swooped in and saved me. He loved me. He gave me his name-and yet-

Like a storm, it came in violently, raging; the storm itself was quick-it tore through our lives, our strong foundations without regard. The aftermath, the damage has left scares-wounds and unimaginable pain-the betrayal-the disbelief and the shame. It took our breath, it knocked us down, it left us dazed, what we had thought was no more. It was gone-our memories scattered all around us, never to be the same- Never. I compare it to recent storms that ravaged this area. As I viewed the damaged homes-or homes that weren’t even there, trees that literally looked like they were ripped off at the top-swimming pools that were emptied…people trying to scurry through what was.
Anyone who knew us-our wonderful big family-they knew we were happy, strong, fun, we were envied. I thought we were inevitable. We were forever….My mother repeatedly told me during my childhood two things saved Her and I from a hard road, Jesus Christ and my dad and I believed that….I loved that..my heart would smile when she said that to me. She would tell me the story of how He swooped in and saved me. He loved me. He gave me his name-and yet-

Like a storm, it came in violently, raging; the storm itself was quick-it tore through our lives, our strong foundations without regard. The aftermath, the damage has left scares-wounds and unimaginable pain-the betrayal-the disbelief and the shame. It took our breath, it knocked us down, it left us dazed, what we had thought was no more. It was gone-our memories scattered all around us, never to be the same- Never. I compare it to recent storms that ravaged this area. As I viewed the damaged homes-or homes that weren’t even there, trees that literally looked like they were ripped off at the top-swimming pools that were emptied…people trying to scurry through what was.
Anyone who knew us-our wonderful big family-they knew we were happy, strong, fun, we were envied. I thought we were inevitable. We were forever….My mother repeatedly told me during my childhood two things saved Her and I from a hard road, Jesus Christ and my dad and I believed that….I loved that..my heart would smile when she said that to me. She would tell me the story of how He swooped in and saved me. He loved me. He gave me his name-and yet-

Like a storm, it came in violently, raging; the storm itself was quick-it tore through our lives, our strong foundations without regard. The aftermath, the damage has left scares-wounds and unimaginable pain-the betrayal-the disbelief and the shame. It took our breath, it knocked us down, it left us dazed, what we had thought was no more. It was gone-our memories scattered all around us, never to be the same- Never. I compare it to recent storms that ravaged this area. As I viewed the damaged homes-or homes that weren’t even there, trees that literally looked like they were ripped off at the top-swimming pools that were emptied…people trying to scurry through what was.
My heart relates, for this is what happened to me and my family..my mother…my children-we are left scurrying through what was left-Like the victims in the storm…we scavenged through the aftermath of the storm looking for familiar pieces of our lives. We did find things that we could keep – unscathed, in perfect condition, just as they were before the store- these treasures that we hold so tightly will continue on with our family forever and we get a glimpse of what can be and what will be with time-they are promises. Then as we dig deeper we find things that are broken, unrecognizable. We investigate them, determining if it is salvageable or not-wow, that’s a painful process, taking memories, and traditions and laying them in the “Unsalvageable” pile…only to turn around and pick it up again trying to convince yourself that it can be fixed…it can be what it was, can’t it ? Again, with a broken heart you force yourself to walk away leaving it in the broken pile. Is it over? No. You find yourself returning again and again revisiting these broken items-grieving. Until one day you realize, the pile is large, it’s time-time to burn, and time to walk away. You watch that small flame start eating at pieces-pieces of your life, you smell the horrid smoke, what’s that smell? My memories! My loved ones! Pieces of MY life-now reduced to ashes to be blown away into the sky like they never existed. Did they exist? Did I make too much of them? Were they not what I thought they were? Did I live in an imaginary world…a fairy tale…don’t worry, I tell myself a lot… for believe me when I say-I now live in complete reality.
Lastly…the third category-things that we can’t locate at all-they are forever lost in the storm. Memories and traditions…and the worst loss – family…I never located my Dad. The storm passed and He was gone. I believe he was blown into someone else’s life-someone else’s yard. I had this yearning to post a wanted sign “Please return the pre storm dad- I miss him. Love Tracy” And yet I couldn’t because he was the master of the storm-I wanted to yell…you traitor-You impostor!

Suffering? Deep hearted retching suffering? Yes! watching my mom, literally be taken down, not be able to breathe, hiding in clothes in department stores while she cried to me on the phone- and I would calmly talk to her until she was able to function again…Answering the phone time after time and only hearing sobs-knowing it was my precious mother. Listening as I repeatedly heard questions like-Why am I not good enough? Am I not pretty enough? How can He live in that house without me? Can He really go on without me? What am I going to do-my life was all planned out with him! Was I angry? I wanted to rip the family door knocker off the door.
I found that My Mom and I were together constantly, from early in the morning,  into the afternoon and late into the night- We even worked together for awhile-I made phone calls at all hours, for hours- just so I could comfort her, be there…the thought of her being alone and grieving literally tormented me-When I wasn’t with her or on the phone with her I would lay in bed not being able to sleep-praying-and begging and crying because one of the people dearest to my heart was grieving..I would ask myself was she sleeping….Was she crying? Is she eating? I would beg the Lord to bring them back together and then I would swear that He would never come near her again. I felt like a valiant warrior…the Warrior of Mom-no one was going to hurt her or unload their troubles on her. Couldn’t they see she was drowning! What could I do…I brought flowers & plants, and multiple cards, coffee’s and tea’s and just little things that I knew would temporarily make her smile- and we trudged on-

It overtook me and for awhile it seemed nothing else mattered to me but making sure she survived…I was driven-pushing all hurt away for my mom, I had to be strong right? I was…until I drove away from her or hung up the phone and I wept and I mourned and at times I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Did I want to breathe at all?

I know…I heard the comments-if not vocally then in their looks as if we could have done something differently, or we should have seen the signs- this couldn’t possibly happen to a true Christian family. People you thought would be there weren’t and surprisingly people you never thought would be were there. I remember purposefully walking the other way in a store, or restaurant because you just couldn’t tell your story to one more person today….did they really care-would they really pray?

After much thought and prayer-My mom needed to leave-she needed to somehow discover how to live again, to get healthy and she left for my brother’s. I remember the day she pulled away and I sat in my car and heart sobbed and sobbed-she was gone-it was just another after effect of the storm still rippling and even though I wanted this for her-it was right, it was good! I sobbed and I found over the next few days, weeks and months that I was lost-after all-my job had been to be the valiant warrior right? So now I seemed lost…I would drive to work and cry…sob…and reapply my makeup once again.

In the midst of this time, we had family situations face us that we probably weren’t strong enough to face…It didn’t stop, you couldn’t catch your breath. I would say it can’t possibly get worse than this and it did- My heart continued and continues to break for people that I adore-I adore and yet it was out of my realm to fix-unimaginable to me…I stand up for what’s right!! I fight the fight!! I demand justice but sometimes justice doesn’t show up on time and all you can do is stand back and watch life unfold and I seemed to die a little bit more.

As you can imagine I allowed this tragedy to become even more important than my husband and my babies…and I only have myself to blame. In the months following my mother’s departure-I realized that I had the most patient, loving and understanding husband-did it take a toll on us? More than I ever realized. I had to learn, to make myself think about my children..their day..their needs and not stay completely focused on my mother that was somewhere in Texas…far far away..Did I love them..out of the question, but this hurt, this wound had become an obsession to me..What was I thinking that I…me…Tracy could fix this problem??

The question of the century always seems to be…”Have you forgiven your father?” My answer would be yes, my honest answer would be sometimes…I take it back…and have to start the process of forgiveness all over again. I’m not angry really…just sad-confused-and most of all numb..

I saved the most important part of this for last…How does a family cope with such loss, a death of sorts and go on? How do we reclaim what is ours?  How does my heart stop hurting –and I have one answer and only one…

Jesus

The night of the storm He was there, He allowed it. He knew about it-long before we did-was He shocked? No. Did He stop it? No. Could He have stopped it? Absolutely. My loved ones that I feel like I need to fix..He’s in control.

Jesus…

The mother I mentioned above is one of the strongest, Godliest Women I know. Her children certainly rise up and call her blessed. Her faith is the real deal-built on a solid foundation-was that foundation rocked? You bet, but firm she stands-In Christ-the only reason that she is where she is today. The only reason that she is starting to smile and laugh again and make future plans for herself. The only reason she didn’t enter the land of the mental.

Jesus…

Does she have setbacks…sadly and understandably- yes and we walk through those moments. We could do little to fix this physically ourselves-so we laid it down at the feet of

Jesus….

My family will heal-We will find happiness and laughter and family memories that will last for generations!

We are making it…I am making it day by day with His comfort, His strength, and in His promises-promises of a new day. By extending the same forgiveness and mercy and grace that he extends to ME…to Tracy! I will carry on through this tough world, until the day that He decides I get to live with Him in His.

I was saved per say as a child…but by Christ alone-

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness”. Therefore will I boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. I Corinthians 12:9-10




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