RoslynReynolds.com

Early Spring Snowstorms

Thursday, April 1st, 2010 | Building Self-Confidence, Death of a loved one, Grieving, Healing after Loss, Healing from grief, Help for Widows, Losing a Spouse, Personal Care while Grieving, Sudden loss | No Comments

As I walked past the flowerbed at my church Sunday, I noticed delicate shoots of crocuses pushing their way up through the loose soil. I smiled. Spring flowers are to me signs of new life, renewal, and are another of God’s miracles sent to lift our hearts. It has been a long Winter, and I am so ready for the awakening that comes with this next season.

Just two days ago my daughter and I noticed that the birds were gathering in our neighborhood and chirping cheerily, and we rejoiced at one more harbinger of the long-awaited release from the cold.

But this morning I awoke to grey skies, and soon snowflakes began falling steadily.

I went out to feed the cat, and heard the birds scolding the snow as they burrowed into the tall hedges surrounding the yard. By evening, our world was once more smothered in white, and we had donned sweaters and wool socks to ward off the extra chill in the house.

Grief seems to have seasons. There is the Autumn of grief, when we are numb from the shock and where colors fade and all things that bring beauty to life begin to wither and die. We sense that what is ahead will be long and cold.

Then comes Winter. The first flakes of snow herald a long season of grey, lifeless days with a constant chill in the air and in our souls. Since my husband died, at the approach of Winter I often feel dread at facing another string of months without warmth or color or life.

Mid-Winter follows; the darkest, coldest part of our grief, with no visible sign of release. The chill we feel is bone-deep, and darkness comes early and stays late. We have no control over when the storms will come, when they will rage with so much fury that we cannot travel out, when we have to build our own private “snow cave” and crawl in, curled up in the fetal position until it feels safe to come out again.

I heard from a dear friend the other day, mourning the tragic death of her husband. She mentioned her reluctance to go out in public because of the probability that she will end up weeping uncontrollably at any time. Those storms are so unpredictable! Not wanting to expose ourselves, nor to subject others to the awkward onslaught, we often choose to stay sequestered at home where we face them – or sometimes, just submit to them – in private.

This is the season when it is hardest to believe that Spring will come. Can there be healing, when one’s heart aches so profoundly that it is hard to breathe? What is there to look forward to when every glance out the window is greeted by bare branches and a dull, colorless landscape, matching the landscape of our soul?

I have found that I have to remind myself that Spring will come, however. Humans naturally crave warmth, and light, and color, and the first thaw in late Winter awakens a hope that maybe, even for us, there might be life again.

Grief does have its Spring. The ache in the heart gradually lessens, and though we never forget the pain of losing our loved one, one day we wake up and realize we didn’t weep in the night. We see a bird, or a flower, or a sunset, and smile. Something has changed so that beauty and warmth are entering our heart again, and our soul begins to take courage.

If you are in mid-Winter in your grief, hold on. Grieve, fully, and allow those storms to rage. Believe that they are cleansing and healing, and that once the tears are dried, you are that much closer to Spring. Each torrent allows the body and soul to purge another layer of the trauma and deep disappointment we have felt, and leaves room in our heart for light, and beauty, and hope.

The snow will melt. The sun will shine, and flowers will bloom. Hold on, and believe!

A String of Beads

Wednesday, March 24th, 2010 | Death of a loved one, Friends, Grieving, Healing after Loss, Healing from grief, Help for Widows, Losing a Spouse, Personal Care while Grieving, Service, The Healing Power of Service | No Comments

I saw it as I passed the piano—the string of white beads she had borrowed to wear to church yesterday, and my heart ached.

I just drove her to the airport an hour ago to catch her plane back to Washington, DC, and now there is a tangible absence in our home.

It seems like ever since Marty died, the children and I are a little more tender about absence from each other. We crave togetherness, and we dislike separation.

Maybe it is because we have felt the pain of loss, and we want to cherish every moment together possible. Shakespeare’s Juliet says, “Parting is such sweet sorrow.” I have yet to find the sweetness there.

When those who live away from home come visit, their presence lights up our home, and gives us all something more to smile about.

When they leave, we feel like a light has gone out and our hearts are heavy. We have to start in on a project, put in some cheerful music, or, on difficult days, curl up in the chair with a warm blanket and retreat into a great book for awhile to lessen the hurt.

Today, I can tell I need to look outside myself, beyond the pain in my heart, and seek to do something that will brighten someone else’s day.

I’m going to get dressed, put on fresh makeup, and go visit someone. Maybe I’ll even wear those beads.

Hoping for your healing,

Roslyn

Snow Again?

Wednesday, March 17th, 2010 | Building Self-Confidence, Death of a loved one, Grieving, Healing after Loss, Healing from grief, Help for Widows, Losing a Spouse, Overcoming Disappointment, Personal Care while Grieving, The Power of a Positive Outlook | No Comments

Friday was a beautiful early Spring day. The bitter chill had left the air, and the sun was shining brightly. As I drove around to do my errands, I noticed many people out in their yards, sweeping the gutters out, raking dead leaves from the flower beds, and pruning trees and bushes. It felt like Spring was just around the corner, and I felt so happy!

The next morning, we awoke to cloudy skies, which, within the hour produced snow. By late this afternoon, it was still lightly snowing. It felt like we were headed back into the dark, cold days of Winter, and I felt that darkness creeping into my home.

I turned on the lamps, put in some of my favorite music, and started making some comfort food. That day it was Curried Lentil Soup*, and the aroma of the basil and curry steaming through the kitchen cheered me and helped me realize that the snow outside really is trivial – and temporary.

It reminded me of the days when I wake up in a dark, cloudy emotional state, and how I have come to realize I need to have some emotional ‘comfort food’ to lift me – certain music I listen to; designated books to read; light and fresh air – to buoy up my spirits.

Do you have your list of emotional ‘comfort foods’ ready in case of stormy weather? When we are grieving, it is essential to have a way to ward off discouragement and depression before they settle in our soul.

In my book (SOLO – Getting It All Together When You Find Yourself Alone) I suggest several ideas to keep handy so that as soon as you sense that darkness begin to invade your soul, you can drive it away.

Begin your list today – and be prepared!

-Roslyn

*for recipe, email me at author@roslynreynolds.com

Thursday, March 11th, 2010 | Building Self-Confidence, Death of a loved one, Goals, Grieving, Healing from grief, Help for Widows, Losing a Spouse, Personal Care while Grieving, The Power of a Positive Outlook, Womanly Arts | No Comments

Thursday, March 11th, 2010 | Building Self-Confidence, Death of a loved one, Goals, Grieving, Healing from grief, Help for Widows, Losing a Spouse, Personal Care while Grieving, The Power of a Positive Outlook, Womanly Arts | No Comments

Singing in the Shower

Sunday, February 28th, 2010 | Books on grief, Death of a loved one, Grieving, Healing after Loss, Healing from grief, Help for Widows, Losing a Spouse, The healing power of Faith in Christ | No Comments

It hit me the other morning as I coaxed the last tiny bit of conditioner out of the bottle in the shower: I was singing!

I used to sing in the shower all the time, years ago. I think it was always an unconscious, spontaneous reaction to joy deep in my heart. I would often find myself singing without even thinking about it.

But then when the hard times came more often and lasted longer, and my heart grew heavy, I couldn’t do it as often. The songs just died on my lips – if they ever got that far.

Then since Marty died, I don’t know that I’ve done it at all.

I never thought about it, though. It’s not like even once the thought crossed my mind, “You don’t sing in the shower anymore.” It was simply no longer part of my life.

But there I was this morning, singing, and I recognized it as a happy song from my youth, bubbling up from somewhere deep inside where it’s been hidden for a long time.

I was taken aback. I had thought I was healing well, months ago. Yet here was evidence that there had still been healing that needed to happen before my heart was free to invite those cheerful lyrics and winsome melodies back, and to let them spill forth without any conscious effort.

Is there more healing yet to come? Doubtless. Not only from the death of my spouse, and not only from the years of difficulty that preceded that event. I have yet to heal from random wounds that I’ve covered over, hoping they’ll be forgotten. I need to heal from wrongs I’ve done for which I cannot forgive myself.

I have found that healing comes best and most thoroughly when I draw near to the Great Healer, Christ, and ask for His help.

As I study His word, make changes in my life to be more in line with His principles, and try harder to follow His example, I feel His forgiveness and His acceptance of my weak offering. Each time I make even a little progress, my heart is lighter, I feel closer to Him, and I feel a deeper joy growing in my heart.

Wherever you are in your healing process, I invite you to join me in seeking Him, the one True Healer. I know doing so will bless your life.

And who knows, maybe one day you’ll find yourself …

singing in the shower!

To Your Healing,

Roslyn

(For ideas on accelerating your healing, see pages 37-117 in my book, SOLO – Getting It All Together When You Find Yourself Alone.)

Tags: healing from gri, Healing from grief, Help for Widows, losing a loved one, Losing a Spouse

Don’t Worry, Be Happy!

Saturday, February 27th, 2010 | Building Self-Confidence, Death of a loved one, Grieving, Healing after Loss, Help for Widows, Overcoming Disappointment, The Power of a Positive Outlook, The healing power of Faith in Christ, Unshaken Faith in Trials | 1 Comment

Headline: WORRY WORKS! SON ACHIEVES 4.0 GPA, THANKS TO MOTHER’S WORRYING

After three years of constant despair, fretting and worrying, Mrs. Susan Smith reported that her worry paid off: her son graduated last week from junior high with a perfect record.

Right.

It’s a story we’ll never see. As a matter of fact, evidence all points to the exact opposite result. Worrying about something bad that could happen has never been linked with the accomplishment of what we want to happen.

Researchers tell of the “self-fulfilling prophecy” effect that often brings to pass the very thing we worry about. Dennis Waitley, Zig Ziglar, Leslie Householder and numerous other prominent motivational speakers and authors have each promoted the idea that we should, instead of worrying about something we fear might happen, keep at the forefront of our mind that which we want to happen. We would do better to constantly think about the outcome we hope for, and feel the joy we’ll feel when it is accomplished.

Just picture yourself when you are worrying: the crease in the forehead; the downcast demeanor; the knot in the stomach; the despair. Not a pretty picture.

As a widow, I find frequent ‘opportunities’ to worry. How am I supposed to sufficiently support this family? How will my sons do without a father when they need those man-to-man talks? How will my daughters fare when they crave the safe feeling of their dad’s arms around their shoulders, and there’s no father to provide that? Who will they turn to? Will it be someone I can trust?

I have found, however, that following the suggestion of the title to a popular song is a better course: “Don’t Worry; Be Happy!”

What good does it do to worry? It darkens my outlook, saddens the whole household, and, perhaps most damaging, blinds me to the blessings that are abundant in my life and to opportunities that may be right next to me.

Be happy? I am reminded of Paul, standing before the Pharisees and the Sadducees, having been persecuted, arrested, and bound. He speaks the truth, and Ananias orders “them that stood by him to smite him on the mouth.” Forty men are conspiring to “neither eat nor drink till they had killed Paul” – and that night the Lord appears to him and says, “Be of good cheer, Paul . . .”*

Paul is in bondage, being falsely accused, abused and in pain, and still has more difficulty ahead to face, and the Lord tells him to be of good cheer.

What reason does he have to be of cheer? In John chapter 16, the Lord tells His followers, “In the world ye shall have tribulation; but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.”**

I believe He is telling us the same thing. I believe we can be of good cheer, in whatever circumstances we find ourselves, if we look to Him. He offers us comfort, strength, and courage. His life is the greatest example of looking beyond the difficulties of the moment to that which is truly important and eternal.

When I feel alone; when I can’t see the answers I am so desperately seeking; when I am deeply concerned about a child, or when my sorrow is nearly overwhelming – I can be of good cheer and know that as I do my best, in His time and in His way, things will work out. He is with me.

He is there for you, too.

Don’t worry, Be Happy!

In good cheer, 

Roslyn

*Acts 23:11

** John 16:33

In the Hands of God

Tuesday, February 16th, 2010 | Death of a loved one, Grieving, Healing after Loss, Help for Widows, Sudden loss, The healing power of Faith in Christ, Unshaken Faith in Trials | No Comments

Not all losses occur in the same manner. Some women become widows suddenly, because their husband suffers a heart attack or is involved in a tragic accident. Some women go through long, agonizing months or even years knowing that a cruel illness is taking their husband away, bit by bit.

Some women are abandoned by a spouse who no longer values the vows taken years before, and still others have had to seek escape from a marriage that has become life-threatening.

No matter the cause, there was always that moment when the realization hit – things are not going the way I had planned, and they are not in my control. We sometimes approach life thinking that our plans and hopes and dreams create the path we will tread. And although it is good to make plans, and to have hope and to dream dreams, life has a way of reminding us that we live in an imperfect world. There will be unexpected, unplanned events that will change the course of our life, and that serve as a reminder that often, life hangs by a thread, and we are completely at the mercy of a loving Father.

Just such an event occurred in my life Tuesday morning. My son-in-law called to tell me that my daughter had gone into labor two months early, and had just given birth to a tiny, three-pound, fourteen-ounce baby girl.

I changed all my plans for the week and made the long drive to the neighboring state where she and her husband attend the university. As I hurried into the hospital I tried to prepare myself for what I might see, but when my son-in-law guided me into the Newborn Intensive Care Unit, it took my breath away to see how small she really was.

She was laid on a slanted warming table, with monitors taped to her chest and stomach, a hood attached to her head that held two oxygen tubes in place over her nose, a tube in her mouth, another monitor attached to one foot, and an IV in her hand.

My daughter was standing at the side of the table, gently stroking the little bit of soft dark hair that was exposed through the hood. We embraced, and as I looked into her weary eyes and saw signs of the trauma and shock she had been through, I perceived that same thought: ‘”Things are not going the way I had planned, and they are not in my control.”

That little life is in the hands of God, and every moment she lives is a miracle. We are so grateful for the technology that is helping her to overcome the huge disadvantages of not being able to develop fully in the womb. But this afternoon as I walked the hospital halls, my mind full of the many difficulties she faces, I realized that there are probably many times when our own lives are in a dangerous place, and we may not even be aware of it.

One mis-step; one turn in the wrong direction, one random act of a complete stranger, or one natural disaster and our lives could be drastically changed or even ended.

We truly are in the hands of God. Though life takes unexpected turns, and though we feel totally out of control, we need to ask ourselves, whose hands would we rather be in? I believe we are learning the lesson of trust on this mortal journey, and I seem to be a slow learner. But each time I am in a frightening situation and I remember Who is really in charge, I can find peace as I submit to His will and change my plans to more closely follow His.

As John Nicholson said, “We must the onward path pursue – as wider fields expand to view, and follow Him unceasingly, Whate’er our lot or sphere may be. *

With you, in the hands of God,

Roslyn

*Come Follow Me, p.116 Hymns

Sacred Ground

Friday, February 5th, 2010 | Dating after loss, Death of a loved one, Grieving, Healing after Loss, Help for Widows, Moving On | No Comments

I believe that after we leave this earthly sphere, we go on to another sphere of existence, where we may have the ability to see and be involved in (in limited ways) what is happening with our loved ones still on earth.

As we stood around my husband’s casket, the funeral director told my children, “You still have a father. He’s just in another place, but he will have the ability to see you, and be involved in your life when you need him to be. Know that he wants your greatest success, and he will do all he can to help you. Remember he is there.”

I spent frequent time recently with a widower. He is another traveler on this often-rocky road of unwelcomed solitude. I enjoyed his company, and I appreciated the opportunity to talk, one-to-one, to another adult about life and family in an enjoyable social setting.

I enjoyed conversing with a man again in a way different from the reserved way I interact with the other men in my life right now. I felt I could be a little more open, and the more frequently we went out, I felt I could be a little less aloof and freer with my words, actions, and emotions.

However, as I sat near him, and as we talked and went places together, I often felt I needed to exercise caution; that I was on sacred ground, where perhaps I didn’t belong. Although it had been years since he lost his wife to cancer, he still had great love for her, and admitted that it was hard for him to be out with another woman.

I sometimes wonder how much our partners who have passed on know and care about how we are carrying on with our lives. I’ve heard some widows and widowers who have remarried say that they felt their deceased spouse led them to their new spouse, and that they would be happy that they have once again found someone to share life’s burdens, joys, and sorrows.

However, I’ve also heard that there can be, in the human heart, places too sacred to be entered by more than one person. I have read that once a person has loved deeply, and then lost that love, their heart can never be free to really love another.

Perhaps that is what I felt when I walked next to my friend, and perhaps that is why eventually we stopped seeing each other.

I had been walking on sacred ground, and, as it turns out, I had been trespassing.

Abel Keogh in his book Room for Two found that, at least for him, there eventually came a time after his first wife died when his heart finally opened to the thought of loving again. He was able to move on and feel comfortable in a new relationship and build a new life with a new wife.

I don’t know how common that is. When I have been with widowers, I have felt an underlying, unwavering devotion to their first spouse – and, although it keeps me from entering their heart, I see it as a beautiful, tender thing. I don’t know that I would want it any other way.

All I know is this:

Walking on sacred ground can sometimes burn your feet.

I’ve determined to tread softly.

Without Even Thinking…

Monday, February 1st, 2010 | Grieving, Healing after Loss, Help for Widows, Systems, Womanly Arts | No Comments

Last night my daughter was ill during the night. I was up with her for a while, and after she had finally fallen back to sleep, I dropped back into bed myself. As I was drifting off to sleep I thought, “It’s Monday – supposed to change the sheets today – I’ll be so tired in the morning, I’ll just let it wait until Tuesday. Then I can sleep for a few more minutes before I have to get up.” It seemed like a great idea, and I smiled as I snuggled back into the warm blankets for a few more hours of sleep.

This morning when I finally crawled out of bed, I found myself, without even thinking, automatically stripping off the sheets. I marveled that even though I’d consciously decided not to do it, habit was taking over, and within a few minutes the task was done.

I discovered the beauty of systems in the early months after my husband’s death. Most days I just wanted to sleep – but nothing went well the days I gave in to that desire. I knew the children needed me up and functioning, and I knew if I just got the basics covered, the vital things would be taken care of, and life would be better for all of us.

So over time I searched for and adopted systems to cover those tasks – meals, basic housekeeping, laundry, and finances, to start with, and as I learned to be consistent with them, I found that those systems began to function without my having to focus on them. Once they became habit, it was hard not to do them!

As you’re moving through the grief process, if you find things in your home and life collapsing all around you, try implementing some systems. One by one, things will begin to fall into place, peace will reign again, and it will all happen….

without even thinking!

Yours for healing,

Roslyn