I read this quote recently and I thought it to be so true. "Grief is not going anywhere, so keep on swimming!"
But what if you can't swim? Or in my case, what if you're a poor swimmer who now requires nose plugs, ear plugs, and goggles just to go under water in a 5 ft pool?
I've never been an athletic swimmer. I can swim when and where I need to but to be honest, I'd rather just lounge in a floatie and occasionally kick my feet and paddle my arms to get where I'm going.
Can you relate?
Swimming is hard work. It's exhausting. Even for the most experienced swimmer.
And grief is hard work. It, too, is exhausting. Even for the experienced griever.
But you've got to keep swimming.
And if you can't swim, then get the biggest, best, floatie you can find, and keep on paddling.
And know, while grief never leaves you and some days the waves are rough, calmer waters await.
#griefjourney #keeponswimming #keeponfloating
Whatever is happening in life, take a moment and clean the kitchen sink. I mean, really clean it. Use a scrubby, a little bit of elbow grease, and an appropriate cleanser in order to rid the sink of coffee stains, food splatters, and water drops. And then, wipe it down . (Don't skip this step!) Using a worn kitchen towel, dry every part of the sink and polish the fixtures with a soft cloth until they shine.
Step back and take a deep breath.
For just a few moments, be ok with knowing nothing else matters except for the simple task of cleaning and appreciating a spotless kitchen sink.
And when you are ready, take another deep breath, turn off the lights, and shut the door. Tomorrow is a new day. A new chapter of life awaits.
When you return, know that a clean spotless kitchen sink will greet you, settling your soul and giving you the strength to tackle whatever life throws at you.
And when life gets tough or hard or sad, just clean the kitchen sink.
#acleansinkisahappysink #lifelessons #grief #shinysink #tasks #justbreathe
Years ago, when I was pregnant with one of my girls, I remember having a conversation with my grandma regarding an induction process for the birth plan. She emphatically told me, "That baby will come when it's good and ready."
She was right, but it still didn't make the waiting any easier.
Labor is hard work. Watching the clock, holding a hand, counting out breaths, waiting, waiting, waiting until the blessed event happens.
When my precious mom (and most recently my wonderful mother-in-law) was dying, we sat by her side and watched the clock and held her hand and counted her breaths and waited, waited, waited until the blessed event happened…laboring her way into heaven.
Giving birth to new life is hard work. No matter if the new life is that of a tiny baby just beginning its life on earth or that of a person who has lived life on earth and is preparing for new birth in heaven. And everyone’s labor experience is different. Some people labor quickly while others linger for days. Some seem to labor effortlessly and for others, the labor is a struggle with each breath.
It is hard work .
But oh, how sweet the rewards of labor.
#heavenawaits #laboranddelivery #deathandlife #heaven
Waiting rooms welcome difficult conversations one moment and casual conversations the next. And when no words are said, there's the hum of a vending machine that fills the silence.
Just like a vending machine is filled with an assortment of snacks, waiting rooms are filled with an assortment of emotions. Fear, worry, anxiety, sadness, uncertainty, shock, numbness, confusion. And just like the hum of a vending machine, waiting rooms hum with the weight of emotions.
And so we wait, while listening to the hum.