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Silence

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Silence

Today has been unusually quiet compared to the last several days since my father has passed. My wife and my mother spent some time together today which left me in her house alone. I reflected a bit on the week that has been but mostly I have slept. I am an introvert with diagnosed social anxiety so it takes little imagination to understand the state of mind I am in because deaths and memorial services, errands and condolence phone calls, emails and texts are anything but quiet and stress reducing.

My wife and my mom knew sleep and silence are what I needed today and am thankful they gave me some space. I am running on empty and my body, emotions, mind, and soul craves the quietude of muted phones, ignored texts, emails that can wait, errands which didn’t happen and the downtime which occurs the days and weeks after a loved one leaves this world.

They say the hardest part of a dear one passing isn’t the days immediately following. Days which are filled with planning, non-stop moving, endless words and memories are hard but can sweep you away in a flood of activity. It’s the days after which grow long. They are filled with loneliness, and questions, confusion, anger, and doubt. The flood of phone calls slow to a trickle, the flowers stop coming, the cards aren’t in the mail, and life goes on. The silence following the cacophony can be deafening.

So, what is a balm for me will become hurt, especially for my mother. It is in these times I must trust the memories will comfort, family and friends will step in for support and we will learn to live with the blessing of silence.

blessings,
@BrianLoging (Twitter)
thewannabesaint.com

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Continues

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I spent most of the day raking leaves and mowing the grass in the front yard. Raking isn’t my most favorite thing but it did get me out of the house on this beautiful, cool, day. As I raked I thought about a couple of things. I thought about my friend, who’s in the hospital right now fighting a losing battle for his life. I reflect on the leaves, now brown and shriveled were green and beautiful not too long ago. Time passes so very quickly and it catches us by surprise no matter when it runs out.

The wind was also blowing as I raked today and it was frustrating at times when it would catch a group of leaves I was trying to make go one way and send them scattered the opposite way. I noticed if I could collect a large group of them together it made a difference in getting them to the spot I needed them to go. The larger the group the better it worked. As I used this strategy I was thankful for the help and support of others as my friend battles an ominous disease. He doesn’t fight alone.

A quiet day, a somber day, a beautiful day with a reminder that even as life ends, it also continues.

blessings,
@BrianLoging (Twitter)
thewannabesaint.com

Support

Support

Beth and I spent most of this beautiful, perfect weather, spring day, planting trees. Several plots of land surrounding our home have been bought lately and people are encroaching on our little slice of country paradise. So, we decided to plant trees along the line of our property to help keep it private and bucolic.

When you are planting new trees one of the most important things you can do is drive stakes into the ground and tie a string from it to the tree. You want to give it as much support as you can so that it can take root and thrive.

As we drove the support stakes into the ground surrounding the trees I thought about friends and family who are currently going through tough challenges and difficulties. They are like the newly planted trees. The storms of life are blowing through their lives and without the support of others, they won’t make it.

I want to be one of the supports for those around me who are hurting. Firmly planted, reaching out, grabbing them and saying; “I will not let you go. No matter what happens, I’ve got you.” After all, they would and have done, the same for me.

blessings,
@BrianLoging (Twitter)
thewannabesaint.com

Support

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Support –

This morning I had to pull up a part of the porch we’ve been working on. The problem was that a particular spot was weak.  If you didn’t step in the particular place one would never notice the “give” but when you hit it just right there was no missing the lack of stability. I unscrewed the section of flooring and discovered there wasn’t cross beam to aid the support of this portion. So, I added a couple of two by fours, dropped the wood floor back in place, added a few extra screws and; “viola!” no more weak spot.

Reflecting on the weak spot I thought about the areas of weaknesses in our own lives. Sometimes the vulnerable places are well-known to us and those who care for us. These are hurts, habits, and hangups, which are easily visible and not difficult to find. Then there are those hidden areas that unless the precise place is touched, a name is mentioned, temptation beckons, fragility exposed, we give, perhaps even believe in, an image of strength and control.

Knowing and adding support for our vulnerable areas takes first a willingness to see the soft spots and allow others to view them as well. Then, in humbleness, we seek guidance in how best to make strong areas which are weak. Many times our frailties are revealed to us by others. Though we may be uncomfortable with others knowing our flaws, defects and shortcomings, many times it is the keen eye, and strong support of a friend, that helps put us on the road to true inner wisdom and strength.

blessings,
@BrianLoging (Twitter)
thewannabesaint.com

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Support

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This morning an elderly man chose the pew in front of me for the worship service. His choice of place was based on it being near one of the large wooden decorative beams located in the sanctuary. He had great difficulty sitting and standing so he used the beam
to steady himself. The church building itself was supporting him. When it came time to go to the front of the sanctuary to receive communion he slowly raised himself and made his way forward. The older gentleman couldn’t bend his knees at the railing as the priest served the body and the blood so the priest reached out to him to make sure he was served, included.

As I watched and reflected on the scene it was a beautiful reminder of what the community of faith should be, what we’re called to do. There are hurt, broken, scarred people who we encounter both inside and outside the church. We aren’t called to heal them, only God can do that. Our purpose is to include, support, serve and love them in every way possible.

Blessings,
@BrianLoging (Twitter)
thewannabesaint.com

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