Countdown to Dead Dad Day

My Dad died on June 16, 2005. It was suicide. A single gunshot wound to the head. He used to tell us girls (Mom, Jenni & me), if an intruder got into the house and he wasn't home to protect us, that we should shoot. His fatherly & authoritative advice was to shoot, "One in the head or two in the heart." 
So when Dad ended his own life with one in the head, it was also two in the heart...one in my heart and one in my sister's heart. And as for my Mom, it just took out her whole being because he was her beloved. 

God has been faithful, loving, grace-giving and mercy-spilling and we're all still healing. I don't think you're ever healed. Like it's done. We're still walking through life without our Dad, our Dragon Slayer, protector, defender, provider - and because of the hope that we have in Jesus that we will be swept up in Dad's strong arms as he bear-hugs us again in Heaven one day. But even with all that hope before me, I still dread the month of June. An internal countdown begins for me. 

I hate June. I really do hate it. We're walking through the valley of the shadow of death and the month of June makes me feel it. I cry at every song on the radio. I cry at the grocery store. If you see me with tear-stained cheeks at the grocery store, I'll make a joke about the price of organic milk being so high that it brought me to tears...I'll say, "no sense crying over spilled milk. Unless it's organic, then cry cuz that stuff's laced with gold!" But the truth is, it could be that I just walked past Dad's favorite snack and it brought back a memory that punched me in the gut. And if I hear the old song "Dream On" by Aerosmith, I seriously could lose control of my car due to weeping and gnashing of teeth. That song was so my Dad. Such a drifter and a dreamer. And it makes me long to hear his voice, smell his cologne and be wrapped up in such a big hug that I think all my bones may crush under the pressure of the love pouring through his strong arms. 

It's the countdown to the day we remember WHO we lost. God sets eternity in the hearts of men - see, we were created for eternity, not for death. So death feels so foreign. And death by suicide feels like a terrorist coming in...everyone asking "Why?" And never getting answers. 

We're 10 days away from Dead Dad Day - yes, that's what we call the anniversary of Dad's death. And I'm inviting you to walk through it with us. And to pray for us over the next 10 days. Satan is a big fat jerk, and he knows that this is a tough time for us, so he throws things at us to try and take us down for good. Please pray for us as you read. 

I'm going to do my best to write my "Top TEN Suicide" List. It's the top 10 things people think, assume, say, do, don't do, etc. I'll give you one a day. 

HERE'S YOUR FREEBIE TODAY: 

Suicide Survivor's Top Ten Things To Do (or NOT Do):

TAKE PICTURES AT THE FUNERAL

It feels weird. It seems irreverent, but done well, it's really a special gift for the family. You forget what you wore, what you looked like. You forget who was around you. I'm not implying taking inappropriate coffin pictures. No. I'm saying, take pictures of the guest book as people sign it. Take pictures of people hugging and grieving together. You stand in the back of the room with a good camera and a good lense, and you shoot quietly. It will be a gift you give the family that they will appreciate and hold those photo memories forever. You will think that every detail will be forever burned into your memory, but it won't. Grief has a way of making you forget. So instead of relying only on your memory, capture it on film. But always be respectful of the family and their wishes. If they say "no cameras" then no cameras. Your heart has to be bent toward uplifting, encouraging and helping the grieving people. So it's ok to ask them, "what would you like pictures of?" Be their friend, not their professional photographer. 

Dad died 7 weeks after Brad & I got married in Las Vegas. 

These pics of Dad from our wedding are the last pics taken of him. 

Jerry and "Miss Linda"

We were listening to Dad give a toast to us at our wedding reception. 

Very sweet. He said "Juice couldn't have chosen better."

Mom & Dad 

Mom & Dad being silly at the Wynne Casino

Having fun in Vegas!

No matter where you're at or what your going through...

KEEP GOING!

A Full Quiver

My little sister is pregnant. And I'm so excited that I can't stand it!! I can't wait to smell that little tiny baby head. I can't wait to nibble on his/her fingers, toes, ears. I can't wait to rock that baby and tell him/her stories about their Mama that she'd rather me never utter. I can't wait to feed him, change him and then give him back! ha! 

My sister is my BFF. I can read her like a book. She gets quiet when she politely disagrees with me but doesn't want to argue. She laughs hysterically at herself in all situations. She uplifts and encourages people with kind words and the touch of her delicate hand. She takes the breath away from a crowd with her beauty when she walks into the room. She has a look of wonder and orneriness in her eyes that makes you wish you knew what she was thinking b/c you know it's just gotta be hilarious. 

She's my baby sister. My BFF. My confidant. My best traveling companion. My favorite make-up and hair model. My favorite actress in the the 1989 soap opera that I wrote and directed (she shoulda won a daytime Emmy for her performance). Also, my guinea pig, my subject, my shadow and my greatest cheerleader. 

And she's having another baby. 

And I'm so thankful and so happy. 

God is good. Just wanted to say it - not that my acknowledgment adds to His glory because it doesn't, but it does add to my worship. And I wanted to worship God through the fact that He's the Giver of Life. The Author. The Sustainer.  The Redeemer.

I love you, Jenni Pooh. Congratulations!!

PS - time to Mom-up and get a minivan. If you can't beat us, join us!

Jessica (3)  & Jenni (1 1/2) 

Jenni's college graduation

(Master's degree in Science. Disgusting! She picked pretty AND smart!)

Jenni doesn't laugh. She cackles. It's contagious. 

Jenni was 7 weeks pregnant with Karis

Mom & Jenni - isn't she the cutest pregnant woman!?!?

Mom, Jenni (Karis), Jes 

in Karis' nursery

Jenni holding Karis (a whopping 9lb. baby!)

Happy Mama holding her baby

My boundaries know nothing of personal space! 

"Oh, you just delivered a 9lb baby? Let me crawl in the bed with you!"

Sweet Mama & baby pic. 

Gaga, Karis ( 1 1/2), Jenni, Juju - Puerto Vallarta 2008

Karis & Emmy - our girls BFF's!

Jeremy, Jenni, Emmy & Karis

Jenni (Nini), Karis & Emmy playing hair

"For you created my inmost being;

you knit me together in my (crazy) mother's womb"

Psalm 139:13 

(parenthesis, mine)

Best Sisters at Jenni's wedding shower in March

Here comes the bride! 

March 23, 2013

³ Children are a gift from the Lord;
    they are a reward from him.
⁴ Children born to a young man
    are like arrows in a warrior’s hands.
⁵ How joyful is the man whose quiver is full of them!

Psalm 127:3-5

Congratulations, Jeremy & Jenni!

May your quiver be full. 

That doesn't sound right. No, no that can't be right, can it??

Pedicure with Satan

I've had a pedi with Satan. Okay, I've had a mani/pedi with him. Don't get all judgy wudgy. You may not have had a mani/pedi with him but I bet you car pooled with him at some point. Or he went grocery shopping with you. If you're married, then I know he's been on a date with you and your husband. 

He's a sneaky slippery snake but I've eaten out of the palms of his freshly manicured claws...and so have you. Maybe you haven't...OOH! Right there...he just did it! Liar! Liar! Putting one thought into my brain. One thought of insecurity. One thought that makes me feel unloved, isolated, silly for sharing. One thought that leads to another thought that leads to another...and all of a sudden, I forget I was bought with a price. The price of the cross of Jesus Christ. I forget to take my thoughts captive and then my thought life becomes my reality and that reality, the one founded in lies, well, that reality bites!

Here's how Satan gets me : 

He sneaks in masked as your BFF (best friend forever. Forever ever? Forever ever!). I'm not talking about your real-life BFF. Not your girlfriend with skin. I'm talking about that place you go in your head because, if you're honest, you're afraid that your BFF may not be able to handle the darkness/insecurity/depravity within you. She might not love you anymore. She might judge you. (Another LIE. Godly women sharpen you! They make you better! Get you one!). 
Back to Satan...
At first he's just listening. Listening to you whine (and maybe some of you wHine). Whine about your husband and the list of honey-do's you're holding on to from your first week of marriage. (Every honey-do list is different. It ain't all "Wash the dishes. Help with the laundry". That actually comes innate in some men. Some honey-do's are "Hug me. Look at me. Love me.") And then after Satan listens to you grumble for a while, he validates you with a lie, "Yes, guuuurrrl. You remind that "man" where he gets his bread buttered. He's not worth this trouble. There's nothing left to fight for in this marriage. You fell out of love with each other ages ago. You've given your best years and your beach body up for his blankedy blank blank blank."  (Satan is a cussing scum bag.)  But his lie grows. And so does your distance between you and your husband. So now you're ready to pack his bags or your bags and do some walking with your cute new toesies, except that you haven't even gotten to the point in your pedi where your freshly-shaven legs are physically assaulted with the "refreshing" and flesh-tearing-sea-salt-scrub. 

So you sit. 

And think. 

And you downward spiral...

You now know, after consulting with the "father of lies", that your marriage is a sham. Like, for sure. You totally get Taylor now. I mean, you're never EVER EVER getting back together! 

Your marriage is a failure.

Probably because of how much you suck. I mean, you really do. You really are a failure. You gave up your dreams and your hopes and for what? A new SUV and a boat? You have no purpose. You're just a trophy wife. And not even a good trophy anymore. You're a dusty bowling trophy in your Grandma's knick-knack room. (Reminder: schedule botox this week.) Now you check FaceBook. Oh great, the Mitchells just posted pictures of their weekend at the family lake house. They look so happy. Why can't we be happy like the Mitchells. Maybe we should buy a lake house. Yes, we should. No, wait, we're never ever ever getting back together, so a joint lake house seems stupid. OOH! We should have another baby! We really got along during the fifteen minutes it took to make the other two. Ooh, what time is it? 3:02. Oh good, I've got a few minutes before they realize I'm late picking them up from school. UGH! What kind of mother says that? The kind behind bars telling her scary story on tonight's LifeTime t.v. movie. Your children are better off if CPS intervenes right this minute. All you're going to instill in them is doubt, insecurity and possibly some sort of confused sexual identity that will lead to an expensive therapy bill that they'll probably send to you to pay b/c you failed them so miserably in their spoiled lavish lifestyle that they can't hold a job but they call themselves "Social Media Experts" because they have a Twitter account, FaceBook account, email account...but NO CHECKING ACCOUNT! But they only got to this place in life because you were trying to buy them a lifestyle to cover up what a failure you are as a wife and mother. 

Failure. Epic failure. 

You look up, an hour and a half has slipped by since you first sat down. 
You pick yourself up out of the chair, almost drunk off the low. So this is how shawty got low (anyone getting these musical lyric jokes?). 

You walk to the check-out counter, slide your card (praying it isn't declined) and you smile, "Thank you! I feel so great!"

But you don't. 

Because you had a mani/pedi with Satan. And you bought Every. Single. WORD. And then you elaborated on those 'words' and you turned them into sentences and paragraphs and you assigned those thoughts a value and now that value is your belief. A belief that you place higher than the WORD of God. Because now you're walking in the word...of Satan, the accuser. You're literally walking in it. Carrying it with you. You're going to take it with you to pick up your kids from school. You're going to take it home with you to greet your husband with a "hey" and a grunt instead of a hug and a "hi. how was your day?" You're going to view yourself through the lenses of a liar. 

And all cuz you didn't have a beat down on the first ugly, critical thought that entered your brain. 

Armor up, ladies (Ephesians 6:10-18). Take captive every thought. Don't let one slip through. Or your marriage is doomed and your kids are doomed and your purpose is doomed. Satan is prowling around looking for someone to DEVOUR. He wants to eat you alive. Does that sound like someone you want to have a mani/pedi with? I think not. Sounds like someone I want to throat-punch. Throat-punch with the true Word of God. 

Throw some punches at the enemy today (reminder: the enemy is NOT your husband or your children). 

Keep Going.

"We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ."

2 Corinthians 10:5 (NIV)

Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.

1 Peter 5:8 (NIV)

Enter the Darkness

I've been reading through the Old Testament. I've made my way through the Genesis adventures. Falling more in love with the flawed characters. I find my pride and vulnerability in Eve. I find my anger and jealousy in Cain. I find my lust and curiosity for sin in Lot's wife (who looked back just one more time). I remember my infertility in Sarah AND find my stubborn wantonness in her as well. I find my desire to obey, lead and commune with God in Abraham. In Joseph, I find my loneliness and favor with God. And in Moses, I find a person who was willing to enter the darkness to find God. 

I relate to that. 

Exodus 20 is where God is giving the Ten Commandments to Moses and the people of Israel. He gives the "Thou shalt nots..." and then at the end of the chapter, beginning in verse 18 and ending in verse 21, the people respond...in fear. When God's presence appeared before them belting out His Commandments, it wasn't accompanied by a string quartet as its soundtrack. It was stinkin' scary. God's presence was brought through thunder, lightning, trumpet sounds and a smoking mountain. 

So picture this, God's about to talk to you and give you His law and the sky turns black,  and lightning, so bright, so electric, begins flashing through the sky that it looks like heaven is falling. And then lightning gives way to its voice: THUNDER. Thunder so loud and so quick that when you try to count, "One one thousand...two one thousand..." you can only get to "One...." and then lightning flashes and thunder crashes and you realize, "well, this is how I'm going to die. I sure hope my...uh, camels and goats are in order" (b/c you're an Israelite in the desert so all you've got are camels and goats). And then through the deafening thunder you hear a trumpet. So loud, that you can't help but look up at the treacherous sky because you want to find the source of the sound of the trumpet that is shredding your eardrums. But your eyes don't find the trumpet. Instead, they find that the mountain you're standing at the foot of is smoking. You're standing at the foot of a smoking mountain in a crazy lightning storm in high winds and all you can think of is "Oh dang. This mountain is going to erupt. THIS is how I'm going to die. Goodbye camels and goats." 

And then through it all, the lightning, thunder, trumpet, and smoke, you hear the scariest, mightiest, holiest thing you've ever or will ever experience, the voice of God. And the sound of His voice makes the rest of the "show" look like the opening number from an episode of "Glee." 

And you're afraid. Very afraid. 

So afraid, that when God stops talking, you push Moses to the front and say, 
"Okay, buddy. You go, you deal with HIM. We'll stay back here. You brought us here, you're our guy. We took a vote and it's unanimous! Go ahead. We'll cheer you on!  Hip Hip Hooray!  M - O - S - E - S...you must be the GREATEST, BEST! GGGGOOOOOOO MOSES!" 

And you stay behind because you don't want to die. You're sure that to be close to God's presence is sudden and certain death. And Moses is like, "Don't be such a skeerdy cat! Don't fear God, R-E-S-P-E-C-T Him and obey Him and you won't have a problem with Him." 

But Exodus 20:21 (NKJV) nails it. It says:

"So the people stood afar off, but Moses drew near the thick darkness where God was." 

God's presence was covered in darkness. Darkness is a terrifying place for me to be. I like to be in control. I can't control what I cannot see and I cannot see in the darkness. 

But the places I have been closest to God have been in the darkest places. 
The aftermath of my Dad's suicide. Darkness. Pitch black. And God was there and He rescued me. 
The time I miscarried twins. Darkness. Hopeless. And God was there and He rescued me.
The next time I miscarried a baby. Darkness. Despair. And God was there and He rescued me. 
The time my marriage was falling apart. Darkness. Black. And God was there and He rescued me. 
The time I almost gave completely in to my selfishness, sin, flesh, temptations. Darkness. And God was there and He rescued me. 

God has not left us. Especially when it's dark. His presence is in the darkness. You're not alone. You may not be able to see, but that's okay, Jesus has this way of giving sight to the blind. 

KEEP GOING!