the grey, the dreary, the rain

Winter days here in the Netherlands are often grey and dreary. The rain that comes down is sometimes gentle and soft. It's raining cats and dogs is what most Dutchies say to me when it's raining. Pouring. That happens too. Those rain storms are good for something; I know nature needs the water, needs to be refreshed and get the necessary minerals. Some catch the rain water, catch the heavenly blessings pouring down for free. It rains on all, it shines on all, and none have say in it...

The weather happens and it can really influence life - your choices in what to do for the day or what to wear or where to go. To find shelter from the rain, the wind, the heat. From when I was a little girl the weather has impacted my mood. Some days I find that the rain, the grey, the dreary is right in line with how I feel. Some days I find that the rain, the dreary reflects exactly how my heart is, but don't assume it always is. Just because it's rainy or grey doesn't guarantee the Monday blues on a Wednesday or Friday. Just because it's rainy or grey doesn't mean the day will be difficult. I need to remember that. Remember that rain is a good thing, that the dreary doesn't need to bring me down, that the grey doesn't need to take me through the negative spiral. In the rain there's hope, there's good, there's blessings pouring down. When in that negative spiral it's hard to break out of it. Thoughts become irrational, far from realistic and yet you can't get out just like that. My house has windows with many panes. When it's dark inside and the street lights shine through I see a grids on the wall. The other day I noticed the grid and it felt a bit constricting, jail like or something. I tried taking a picture but that didn't show. Turning on the light helped. In the light you don't see the darkness, in the light there is no room for darkness, in the light there is no room for grids or enprisonment.


The Light - the Truth - will set you free! No longer enslaved, enprisoned, but living in the Light. Seek the Light when darkness tries to get you down, when it tries to get you take you out. Reminding myself again and again to not let the darkness overrule. Some days are hard. Some days just feel plain impossible. Some days it's actually going okay. And then there are days that end and as I hit the pillow I realize 'that was a good day'. That day was filled with sunshine even though it rained.

In a way I feel guilty for having a good day... guilty for enjoying myself and moments filled with laughter. How does joy go together with grief? Can it go together with grief - and if it can how do you balance it? Perhaps I shouldn't over think it. Allow the emotions to happen when they come, allow the laughter and the joy and the smiles and the tears and the confusion and the down thoughts to be. Allow myself to not be okay during this time because this is really hard, this isn't okay. The not-okay-ness is okay and I need to allow this part too, to read this chapter as well.

The other day I said to someone how I felt it was taking forever. In a way you want to finish this chapter of grief, read it through and be done with it. Done with the salty tears. Done with the flood of emotions. Done with the unexpected waterworks. Done with heart ache that is constantly felt. Done with it all. Because I don't want this - don't want to have to grieve the fact that my sister is no longer here. Don't want to have to live on without her, have to deal with an empty place. I want to be done with it all because this chapter sucks, it's stupid and difficult and the toughest read. I don't know the words I need to give, can't give words that will do justice to what this is like. If you ask me now I may tell you I'm doing fine because in that moment I feel fine. Or may say I am doing good because in that moment it feels good. Or you may say something to me and tears well up and roll down, because that night I didn't sleep well or that morning I woke up discouraged.
Yesterday someone came up to me and commended my courage. I fell silent.

Courage?

I'm feel weak and broken and super fragile. But courage? Seriously, I am still in survival mode. I fight my way out the door because I can't do it otherwise. I pray each day for patience with my students because my mind feels almost too full. Strength is something I cannot live without, and that strength doesn't come from within. It's not courage I've got, or at least it doesn't feel that way. It's trying to find what I need for that moment from the tips of my toes, from the depth of my soul, from the bottom of my heart. Strength to face the day, hear the comments, answer questions, absorb all the advice and ideas people try to share. Dear people, thank you for the cards you send - even though they guarantee tears. Dear people, thank you for the WhatsApp message about the least important and most nonsense things. Dear people, thank you for your prayers - for our friends and family and myself. You prayed when Lianne was sick and your continued prayers are so appreciated and needed. Dear people, thank you for asking questions even though sometimes I can hardly answer you. Dear people, thank you for offering me your help or ideas or advice - to be honest, I don't know what I need right now, don't know how you can help, don't have answers.
But thank you.
All of that adds to the joy and courage to keep going.

All that you offer and say and give doesn't go unnoticed, I honestly take it to heart and I see it as rays of sunshine on those grey days in my mind. Those are winks that take the chill off the grief. Thank you. For embracing me in the normal and in the pain and in the joy, too. Sunshine warms you, brings brightness and is light itself. Light doesn't allow for darkness. So thanks for bringing Light by being you and reaching out.

all of my ambitions, hopes and plans

waiting for the ambulance and just taking a silly selfie. classic

I love talking and writing, as many of you know. In the last few months talking has been a way of reflecting and processing what is happening in my heart and mind. It is a way of figuring out what is going on, or at least putting it into words. I always thought I was pretty in tune with what was going on in my mind, can figure out what I am feeling and am able to express that in one way or another.
In the whirlwind of Autumn 2018, the season my sister's leaf faded and fell off, suddenly I no longer felt. Couldn't feel because I was hit with numbness, overcome with shock and later grief. I could no longer feel because there were so many feelings going through me at once, many emotions at the same time. Some days there is frustration, other days it feels like pure anger, some times I am disappointed and in some moments relieved.
In my tribute during Lianne's memorial service I talked about the dreams we shared, the hopes we had, and our deepest desire. Many of our dreams and hopes were similar, but the greatest longing for us both: to glorify God in all things - now and forever more.

In September I told her that I was jealous she'd likely meet our Maker soon, jealous that she'd be in glory soon. Is that a holy jealousy? Selfish jealousy, I am not sure?! Those ambitions, those hopes, the plans we'd made soon became a memory.
Lianne had been planning to come to the Netherlands to visit Corné and I here in October 2018. Our plan was to go to Cambodia together in the Summer of 2019. She hoped to open her own bakery and had already started baking cakes for weddings and such. The first dream that vanished was her dream to become a mom. Her deepest and 'loneliest' dream perhaps was to become a mom, but eh, that doesn't work too well when you're alone. We always would joke about her family of 10 children, mini-me's she'd say... and she hoped they'd be less chaotic than herself 'because otherwise I'd have to hire you'. I laugh now, thinking about that. At the same time tears roll down my cheeks... In August she said to me: "Marieta, I'll never be a mom..."

In October those words had changed... still so very similar and yet I could tell her own dreams had become unimportant to her. She'd moved on from holding her own dreams to sharing ours... "Marieta, I'll never see you be a mom, will never be able to celebrate the milestones of our niece and nephews... Mariet, it hurts me that I won't be able to be there for you..." Her hopes and dreams had vanished, all she could think was not being able to share in the celebrations, not being able to bake pretty cakes for birthdays and weddings, and squeezing us tight for our birthdays. She'd let go off her own dreams and was filled with heavenly longing, longing all for Jesus.

Jesus, all for Jesus,

All I am and have and ever hope to be.

Jesus, all for Jesus,

All I am and have and ever hope to be.

I surrender these into Your hands.

All of my ambitions, hopes and plans

All of my ambitions, hopes and plans

For it's only in Your will that I am free,

I surrender these into Your hands.

For it's only in Your will that I am free,

Jesus, all for Jesus,

All I am and have and ever hope to be.

Jesus All For Jesus

Sometimes it feels like she had to prematurely surrender all things into His hands. So abruptly, from planning a trip to Europe to a like -death-sentence-diagnosis. So abruptly, no more dreams of her own but dreams God had for her. He wanted His child home and she's home now. Home with God. There's no place I'd rather be, than in Your arms of Love....

I've been doing a lot of reflecting lately, that happens automatically really. I don't have to try, it just happens. You start thinking differently in life when you come face to face with death, or are confronted with the end of life here on earth. It's a stark realization. You wonder what you're living for. What's the goal you're aiming at, the dreams you have. I struggle between longing for the heavenly and still having a calling here on earth. I am called to live and live fully and live for God and flourish where I am. How can I flourish in this broken, dark, cold valley? How can I flourish in grief and the winter season of my life? How can I live fully when I feel shattered, beaten, broken? How can I give all I have and all I hope to be - when I feel like I've got nothing to offer...?

How can I live when I can hardly breathe? How can I have ambitions for today when I barely have the strength to face this moment?

All I am and have and ever hope to be...

Really, it feels like I have hardly any ambitions - professionally or personally - they're all kind of put on the backburner. Don't ask me about a five year plan in my career. I pray daily not for cakes and pies for tomorrow but for today's bread. I ask not for long term care but God's providence in this moment. I ask not for 10 years from now because I can hardly face today. Someone reminded me of the manna God provided daily in the desert. Israel was warned not to gather extra, but to trust God's hand in what He gives today. Looking to Him for this moment is enough... Surrendering all I have to Him - letting it go out of my control-freak-hands and into His care, into His loving arms, resting in His providence. To depend on Him in that, in today. On the foreground of my mind is not what do I want but how do I live for You, abide in You, when I feel so lost? How can I live now? What am I living for today?

Jesus - You are all I am.
Jesus - You are all I have.
Jesus - You are all I ever hope to be.

It is He that lives in me, not I that lives.

To God be the glory, now and forever.