Who I am

I didn't realize until recently, but somewhere along the way I lost a little bit of who I was.  It didn't happen all at once, even if I can pinpoint events that started the process, it was a slow process that I couldn't even name. 

About half way through this year I woke up one day and realized I no longer knew what I wanted to do with my life. After about a week of wrestling and coming to a place where all I could say for certain is that I knew I wanted to still be a mother and apart from that one thing it's all up in the air and I'm ok with that. 

Then about three weeks ago one day I looked in the mirror as I was getting ready for work and I saw me. I hadn't realized that I had been missing. But for those few minutes as I brushed my teeth the reflection in the mirror was me. 

If in that one moment I saw myself again it means that I must have been missing. All the other days the face that had been staring back at me wasn't quit me. This stuck with me over the next few weeks as the Lord slowly starting speaking into my life and revealing his truth. 

Last Wednesday at chapel I listened to the speaker as always and was excited to sing the last song as we took communion. It had been one I heard before and liked. We had even sung it at church Sunday. But in that chapel and in that moment and space the words of the following song came alive and I couldn't just sing the words I sang them, I meant them, and they were sung over me. 

God used that moment to remind me of who I am through "Good Good Father" by Chris Tomlin.

Oh, I've heard a thousand stories
Of what they think You're like
But I've heard the tender whisper
Of love in the dead of night

I was reminded of and reflected on Gods faithfulness.

And You tell me that You're pleased
And that I'm never alone

I was reminded that even in the craziness of life and grief and how messy a process it is, the Lord is pleased with me. What a needed reminder for the overachiever perfectionistic doer.

You're a good good Father
It's who You are, it's who You are, it's who You are
Focused my thoughts on who I have known and know God to be even when the answers that I want don't come. His character never changes.

And I'm loved by You
It's who I am, it's who I am, it's who I am
Reminded of the greatness of the Lord's love for me.

Oh, and I've seen many searching
For answers far and wide
But I know we're all searching
For answers only You provide
‘Cause You know just what we need
Before we say a word
Thanking the Lord for the way he meets me in my needs before I even know what I need.

You're a good good Father
It's who You are, it's who You are, it's who You are
And I'm loved by You
It's who I am, it's who I am, it's who I am
I am simply loved by God.  I am not my brokenness. It does not get to define me.

Cause You are perfect in all of Your ways
You are perfect in all of Your ways
You are perfect in all of Your ways to us

You are perfect in all of Your ways
Oh, You are perfect in all of Your ways
You are perfect in all of Your ways to us
An additional reminder of the Lord's character.

Oh, it's love so undeniable
I, I can hardly speak
Peace so unexplainable
I, I can hardly think
As You call me deeper still
As You call me deeper still
As You call me deeper still
Into love, love, love


Right now the Lord is asking me to lay down my brokenness and stop hiding behind it and allowing it to define me.  It does not lessen the hurt nor does it speed up the grieving process but it does allow me to be grounded in who I am. And it allows me to respond to the Lord's invitation to continue to grow and know him deeper in the love that he so graciously gives.

Life

I have been quiet for a few weeks as August and the beginning of September flew by.


My step-dad, Alan Hoover, tragically took his life on August 4, 2015 after a struggle with mental illness, grief/depression, and drugs.  Suicide is something that is hard to understand and process.  My relationship with my step-dad was different for a number of reasons but not matter the differences that we had, it is sad that someone can be so broken that they believe that death is the only way out.  Sad doesn't do it justice but I am at a loss for words to describe it.


It is hard to now watch my little sister, Lauren, work through and live with her nuclear family all being deceased before her 22nd birthday. Although she has three half sisters and many other family members and friends surrounding her, her idea of family and home has completely been shattered.


And that makes me angry. 


It was hard enough to loose AJ after finally feeling like we were getting back onto solid ground after mom's passing.  But this loss comes so quickly after AJ's death for which we still do not have answers or closure and have not even begun to dig into the grief that plagues us.

Then about three weeks ago, as Brian and I celebrating the ending to a busy summer term which included 4 of 12 weeks spent apart due to traveling that Brian had for work, church, and licensing school, I sprained my ankle jumping on a trampoline. And if you know me, when I do something I do it well even when its the first time I have ever done it.

I will be honest, I cried for over an hour that day. Not because of the pain (even though it hurt), I cried because it was one more thing. One more thing on a pile of things I have not been able to even deal with yet.


One of the things that brings me joy in this world is jumping on a trampoline.  For the first 2mins that we were jumping before I got hurt Brian said that my face showed pure joy.


Its not about the trampoline.  Its about in the one moment that I took to enjoy and let go of the stuff that has consumed this year I got hurt.  It was of course perfect timing as four days later I would be traveling to Asbury's Memphis location for work to do NSO and 10days later I would attempt to explore Chicago on a vacation that Brian and I had been planning for a year.


I sucked it up and made it through Memphis and Chicago (and even enjoyed them) but sometime between the two trips as I was limping around Asbury's campus, I had a thought, this outer limp that people can see is actually the outer expression of my inner brokenness and pain that people cannot see.


Praying that I can be gentle with myself as both my heart and ankle continue to heal (even if it is slower than I would prefer). And praying for protection over my family as we reorient ourselves to life and that those near to us would continue to surround us with support and love as each of us need.

 

 

 

Reality

Reality.

Reality is defined as "the world or the state of things as they actually exist, opposed to an idealistic or notional idea of them".

Reality is hard to swallow.

Reality is its been 6 months since AJ died.

Reality is that the investigation of his murder has not come to a close.

Reality is I am still neck deep in grief.

Reality is life is super hard.

Reality is coming to terms with how broken I am.

Reality is admitting I am not fine.

Reality is what a friend of mine once wrote:

And this is life, it smacks you in the face, it blesses you in countless ways, it confuses you to the point where you forget who you are and where you're going. 

This is my reality.

I am trying to remember who I am and where I am going.

To love is to risk

One of the hardest things for me to wrap my mind around is the call to love others.  Not because this is hard for me to do but because to love is to risk.

We are commanded to love God and to love others.

To love God is easier than loving others, as he is perfect and worthy of love. To surrender our lives to God is love.   And yet to surrender is to risk.  In my staff group we are working our way through the book Surrender to Love: Discovering the Heart of Christian Spirituality.  It is through love that we are able and should surrender.

But to love is to risk.

Its crazy to think about how much we are capable of loving.  So many times in my life I have said my heart is all over the country.  Wherever a family member or friend lives there my heart is.  I think if that is true, then I have loved well.  And yet in loving well it will inevitably be that my heart is broken with loss and grief at some point in my life.

I was blessed with the opportunity to go to California about a month ago to surprise my older sister (and in the process see one of my younger sisters who lives in Arizona). Family love, sibling love, and more specifically sister love is so important to me.  Its easy to love and forgive within a family unit, it is usually the safest place.

Three days later, my best friend from college came to visit for a long weekend. This August marks 9 years since I first met Lynda.  5.5 of those years we have not lived in the same state but have been blessed to visit each other and continue our friendship.

Just last week my other younger sister stopped through for a night on her way to a wedding. And at the end of September Brian and I will go to visit her in Florida for a weekend.

And yet the pain from loving AJ so much and then losing him can never be replaced with or by my love for others.  And as much as my heart was full with love and shared time with those I love over the last few weeks, the portion of my heart that will always be my little brother's is missing still.

Love is hard.  And to truly love is to risk greatly.  But love does not disappoint even if the world disappoints.  No matter the heartache from old friends of mine with whom I have grown a part or from the loss of a loved one or friend, love is worth it.  I pray that I would continue to love  more deeply now.

Love those that God has placed before you.  And may you find great joy in knowing your heart is all over the country and possibly the world. Don't let your hearts become hardened and bitter. Go and love. And when necessary grieve, because to love is to risk.
 
"There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief and unspeakable love." -Washington Irving

Justice and Grace

Someone in my staff group asked me a couple weeks ago about how I am doing and where I am in my grief?  How do I process getting an update from the detective?  Do I want to know who did it?  Do I believe in the death penalty? Will I be better once they find out who did it and justice (whatever that looks like) is served?

Sometimes it is hard to put into words what I am feeling and where I am.  I don't usually do well when we get an update or if I have spoken with the detective.  Its usually good to get more information but I get all shaky, cold, and overwhelmed.  It feels like an out of body experience.  For example the other night when I got an update I was sewing but no longer wanted to sew or do anything but sleep or eat.  And realistically after an update sleep is not the thing that comes easy as my mind is twisting around trying to find a place to land.

Over the last few months, for me it has always been about what happened that night not about who specifically pulled the trigger.  If they think it is one of 3 or 4 guys it does not change anything to know the face or name behind the murderer.  However, I think there will be a sense of relief and weight that will lift once all is said and done and someone is charged and prosecuted.

In some ways finding out will make me face all of my feelings, doubts, and questions.  No more hiding behind waiting for more answers and the investigation.  Whatever is at the end will be what it is and it will not change the fact that AJ is gone.  It will not make it easier but it will make me trudge through it.  I want to move through it and I know that it is right, however I am not looking forward to it.  My hope is that when I do have to move through the mess, God's grace and love will meet me in the middle of it and hold my broken heart.

If you know me I am a J on the Myers Briggs scale.   100% a J on the scale. Brian sometimes (in my opinion) and in a joking manner mistaken my "judging" with actual judgment and justice and fairness.  Because as much of a J (judging) preference I am equally known to stand up for injustice.  Fairness is important to me.  We grew up not being able to use the following phrase, "that's not fair".  Maybe its because "life isn't fair" (a phrase I was told often), either way I did not like not being able to express when I thought something was not right.  Not that I, as a child was capable of really knowing what was fair or not.

But in reality, life isn't fair. God's perfect love for mankind through Jesus Christ shows us exactly that when he extends his grace to us instead of his judgment.   We are all offered life instead of death.  For the here and now, not just for eternity. My hope for the person who pulled the trigger that night is that he would one day choose life that is extended to each of us.  I know that the brokenness in the world is the cause and that it was not God's will that AJ died as he did.  Sometimes its hard to hear comments within the Christian circle that contain broken theology to try and explain suffering and loss such as what has been experienced with loosing AJ.  Just as this was not God's will and perfect plan for AJ, it is not God's desire that the person behind the gun live life apart from knowing him and choosing life.

My prayer is that justice, laced with God's perfect grace, would find the young man behind the gun.

The new normal

I am realizing more and more that there is a hole in my future.  One without my mom and now one without a brother.  It took me longer to realize the holes that mom had left but that is also because I shut down for a bit as I learned to function in the new normal. 

I hate that phrase.  The new normal.  This is not normal or right and I refuse to settle for the normal that I am being forced into.  The normal without my little brother.  Life will never be "normal". I am not even sure what that word means.

With what would have been AJ's 17th Birthday, 4 month's since AJ's death, and Mother's Day all wrapped up into one week, last week was hard.

About a month ago, I told two ladies about my brother who do not really know me and did not know about his passing. I chose the word homicide to describe what had happened rather than "murder".  For some reason homicide feels like a nicer or softer version compared to murders rough edges. And yet homicide means murder. And that is exactly what happened.  Maybe you would suggest just saying that I am grieving the recent loss of my brother.  However,  it does not do what  my family and I are having to walk through justice.

Since then I have been coming to the realization that just as we transitioned into a new state and life 1.5years after mom died we will again find ourselves transitioning 1.5 years after AJ died once Brian graduates in May 2016.

So what do I say to people when they ask how many siblings do you have?  I have for the past 17 years answered that question with 4 sisters and 2 brothers and never blinked an eye.  I still have the same amount, but just as people still ask random questions about my mom (assuming she is still alive) they will ask about my brother and I will have to explain what happened.  Conversation downer.  Its real but it is not always the most fun to have to explain to new people that you meet.  And yet, at the same time that is all you want others to know about you.  I remember struggling with wanting to be known when we moved to KY and to really be known would have been to know my mom had died and I was still working through it.  I am sure the same will be true about AJ and our next big transition.

That's my new normal.

This semester I have committed to making space for me throughout the week to worship with others outside of Sunday Church or even my weekly small group.  I have found it is helpful to be around others worshipping as well as giving myself more intentional opportunities to hear the Lord speak to me and my broken heart.  It is an effort to counteract my self preserving coping skill of checking out. What this has looked like for me is attending Wednesday Chapel at Asbury as well as going to the once a month woman's communion evening get together.

Over the semester many times I have found myself walked into Chapel, putting my things down in the pew, and pausing to take a deep breath and let all the little things of life that I am carrying fall off me.  Some of these things include the daily grind of work and my to do list. And instead, I have time and space to lean into the other areas of my life. Likewise woman's communion has been a safe place for me to cry if I need and to process and work through the hard of life.

This week's woman's communion, like so many in the past, did not leave me without tears in my eyes.  This weeks included dinner, so we feasted and talked with others around the table. And then some woman shared their stories with us.  After we heard stories the speaker for the evening had different symbolic items, sea shells, roses, chocolate, etc. that you were instructed to take if what she said was true of you and then we would pray for that group of people that went forward and received the item. One 'grouping" of people were for woman that had lost a child, had concern for a child, grieving for a child, or something along those lines.  Not necessarily your child but a child.

As the speaker was describing this group my lovely friend Kim put her hand on my back.  I do not know why she did but I know that it was an encouragement. In some ways she was giving me permission to get up and get a rose  if I wanted.  I needed permission because I know that I am not a mom and yet that same ache is true for AJ.  Kim's permission and acknowledgement was comforting and validating even though I did not get up to get a rose. 

You see, I could barely get through the description of the "group" of woman without bawling.  If I would have stood up and walked over to take a rose I am sure I would have made a scene. So I sat and held it until about half way through the prayer. When I could no longer hold onto my grief.  Both Kim and Marcie cried with me and loved me in that moment.  One of the woman in my Staff group from work came and gave me a flower after the prayer as she had known I could not get one myself.  And in some ways I did not feel I deserved a flower.

Lately it seems my grief is bubbling to the surface and in society it is not acceptable to just burst out into tears and yet, woman's communion marked the third time in less than a week that this was true of me. I guess, as they say, such is life.

I am thankful for these moments that others can show me God's grace and love when I am unable to extend it to myself.

Just A Memory

The question of whether or not I did enough or was there enough for AJ continues to come up and I battle with myself knowing it is a part of the grief process and that I cannot be so hard on myself.  And yet, those desires and dreams that I had for AJ and the time, love, and hope that I wish I had a chance to extend to AJ in greater depth, can no longer take place.

Just the week before AJ's death we were all in Arizona for the 2nd half of Christmas break.  I am very thankful for that week hanging out with my family.  There are several great memories from that week but one that sticks out in my head is when Brian and I went with AJ to the mall to spend his Christmas money.

He had his eye on new clothes and shoes.  He as ever teenager does, knows exactly the kind of clothes they want and where to get them.   AJ bought a pair of pants and a t-shirt and then we headed off to other stores to look for a specific kind of shoe he wanted. He only had so much Christmas money left so we searched a few different places before we found some that he wanted and I decided that I wanted to help him pay for them.

You know the natural teenage boy response of indifference or entitlement? Neither of those were a part of his attitude or demeanor that day. Instead in all sincerity he double checked that I was sure and didn't mind covering the cost of the rest of the shoe. His face in that moment as he asked me is engraved in my mind.

So much of my heart for AJ has always been to meet every need he had if I could.  I show people love through meeting their needs.    I am so grateful that I said yes when I felt that tug to meet that need and to extend grace and love to AJ in that tangible way.

I cannot even imagine not having that clear recent memory and experience with him.  I know that I showed him love in that moment but more importantly I know that he knew he was loved by me.

The upward battle

This week I am weary from the upward battle I am fighting in so many areas of my life. I have been feeing the affects of this walk up this hill for a while but this week I have needed a break.

From grief, injustice (in general in life because my personality values that so much), relationships (both good and not so good or forced), work frustrations, to even the simplest of things that should cause me joy like gardening, nothing is happening without a fight.  Not that I expect everything to be great, its hard when you are in the middle of something so consuming and so important like grief to understand or juggle the other crap of life with a good attitude. I shouldn't have to work at getting a tiller to borrow.  I shouldn't have to feel forced to relate to people in a certain way but should be able to connect with people naturally. Relationships with people should be out of caring for one another not governed by expectations.

I managed to make it to Thursday.  I say make it because that is how it feels.  I am making it.  And so most of the time I feel like checking out.  My intentionality in the way that I love and serve others has
been work, instead of something that naturally flows out of who I am during this season.  I know it is why I take it more personally when what I can give (in all of the areas of my life) is not enough or if the effort that it takes for me to be present in other areas of my life is not acknowledged but taken advantage of.

I think its that point in the grief process that people have moved on while your still stuck right where you were 3 months ago when your world changed forever. People still ask how you are, but they ask in the simplest form of that phrase not out of really wondering if you are doing okay with the loss that you are inevitably still working through.

God sees me in my grief.  He really sees me. And when I want to give up he reminds me that I am not alone.  And for my not so healthy coping skill of checking out, he shows me love through someone tangible.

God's grace and love today is my wonderful friend and co-worker who gave me a hug.  Not that I communicated I needed a hug but because she felt the heavy heart I have been caring with me.
 She let me cry without expecting an explanation. And when I described the upward battle she responded with, "I will sit with you on this hill".  She will sit on the rock that's on the path up this hill mountain  that I am climbing and she will love me even in my ugliness and sadness.  She is allowing me to sit in my sadness and not have any expectations to keep going or give her anything.

 And for this, I am ever so grateful and thankful. Because like everyone else in the world, I am a mess.  Its just at this point in my life my mess feels like its seeping out of every crack of my life.  And its ugly.  Its disappointing. Its hard. And yet I am loved.

Worthy of Trust

A quote from the book The Hardest Peace:

God’s purposes in present grief may not be fully known in a week, in a year, or even in this lifetime. Indeed, some of God’s purposes will not even be known when believers die and go to be with the Lord. Some will only be discovered at the day of final judgement when the Lord reveals the secrets of all hearts and commends with special honour those who trusted him in hardship even though they could not see the reason for it: they trusted him simply because he was their God and they knew him to be worthy of trust. It is in times when the reason for hardship cannot be seen that trust in God alone seems to be most pure and precious in his sight. Such faith he will not forget, but will store up as a jewel of great value and beauty to be displayed and delighted in on the day of judgment.

 Wayne Grudem, The First Epistle of Peter

Dreams Die

It's weird how much of a tendency we have at wanting to hurry through the pain. Sometimes we put up the walls and or try and skip right over the mess. You can close the door but every time you open it and look out to see if the pain has gone it will always be there. The only way is through it. Pain is not fun. Vulnerability is not the easiest.

When my mom died I put a wall up and moved on only to find that I had put a wall so big around my heart that I wasn't being vulnerable with anyone in my life not even God.

 

This time around, in an effort to keep moving through pain and not hurrying through it I have been writing and sharing more of my heart than I have in a while. I do not want  all of the hard work that I did in 2014 to be forgotten and I do not want to return to that state of living.

And yet, its been weeks of processing before I could sit and finish this post.  Its real and its hard.  And typing it, reading it, and saying it out loud is even tougher. I did not know what to title this post and I am not sure I even like the title.

One main theme that I am realizing and still trying to put my head around is that dreams die. 

 

The night AJ died, some of my dreams and desires and things that I was excited for died with him. I know that I have shared a little or with some, losing AJ triggered a sibling loss but also a maternal loss. I know that I do not have kids and cannot really understand, but I know that AJ being 10years younger and with my mom dying when he was only 12, the maternal loss is there. 

 

Just last year about this time we were having discussions on if AJ should come and live with Brian and I. And I had kind of made up my mind that if the opportunity/discussion came came up again, I would not hesitate. I wanted more for AJ. And I wanted to try and give him all that I could. He had a rough go at it since mom died and I wanted my chance at helping, because I loved him. Not because I had all of the answers or even could imagine all of the hard that would have come if AJ had come to live with us.  But I loved him and out of that love I would have given anything to aid him. Brian and I never got that chance to welcome him into our home.  That has been and is still one of the hardest things that both Brian and I are walking through. 

 

But as we were talking about the possibility, I as many of you do too, dream up what could be. I dreamed up what life could have been like. Now please know, while I dreamed, I knew it wouldn't be easy and it would  change my relationship with AJ. But I dreamed that he could come and live here. We could sit on the couch and read together. Something we both enjoy. We could work in the garden together, make dinner together, and we would even teach him how to drive.  Maybe run track at the high school and I would go watch him run. He could mow lawns here or work somewhere in our small town. We could play softball at the field right by our house or ride bikes around town.  He could go with me to watch Sully and Harmon on Sunday nights. 

 

The possibilities of shared time together were endless.  You see that was what I would have given him, time.  AJ needed time, love, and an invitation into healing.  That's all I had to give but I knew that if I was present that it would be okay no matter what obstacles would inevitably come up.

Even when he didn't come and move here and I had come to peace with that, I still dreamed for him.  I dreamed of him graduating high school, going into the military, and then to college.  I dreamed and prayed for the same dreams that he had wanted for his life. 

But dreams die.  And three months ago, Monday, these dreams died.

Introducing: MegStitch (Totes and more)

I am excited to say I finally created an Etsy shop!
https://www.etsy.com/shop/MegStitch

Slowly finding the new normal in life and trying to enjoy each day, one might even say "Savor" each day.  (I just bought the kindle version of Shauna Niequist's daily devotional, Savor, last week). Part of that includes finding the motivation to do things that I love and have talked about, so....

Why not make an Etsy shop where I can sell my bags. They are great gifts for all occasions. If you have purchased a tote or wristlet in the past please feel free to share the link with friends and family who may be interested!

 

His Faithfulness

In my last blog post I said the following:

"Only the one, the one who pours grace and love out onto us, is big enough and good enough for even this."

 

I am sure, even more so amongst my family who are dealing with the reality of losing AJ the most, cannot fully grasp my words. How can this be? In the midst of despair, brokenness, and pain. How can he be good and loving?

 

I was working away yesterday afternoon trying to complete something before the weekend and my mind tuned into the following words that were playing in the background on Pandora:

 

"He has paid the highest price
He has proven His great love for us"

("He is faithful" by Jesus Culture)

 

It is in his faithfulness.  My hope lies in his faithfulness. 

The faithfulness that I have been blessed to see and name and even the faithfulness that I am so unaware of and miss out on.

 

Faithfulness does not take away from the brokenness in the world. It is just the hope and grace that we get to live into if we choose. Within the first hour of hearing that AJ was in the hospital and had been shot and they did not think he would make it, I had the following conversation with God:

 

Me: How could you let this happen? [struggling with my understanding of God's Character]

(God gently reminding me...)

Me: It's our free will that caused this. Its our brokenness. I wish you wouldn't have given us free will.
(God gently reminding me...)

Me: But you had to because you love us so...

 

None of which changes the situation or circumstances. And yet I am LOVED. God has already proven himself to me through Jesus dying on the cross. Even if he does not answer my prayers and petitions in the way that I desire.  Even when my 42 year old mom dies. Even when my 16 year old brother dies.  Even when I do not want to face my grief.  Even when it's been two months and we still do not have answers. And even when the brokenness of the world crashes into our lives. 

 

He is faithful.

 

 

Looking for the light in the darkness...

 

 

 

My best friend from college sent this to me about a week ago.  I wanted to share it. 

 I have always liked the image that the darkness cannot overtake the light.  I think it was sometime in college when I first heard the words from Hillsongs, song "From the Inside out" that say:

"Your light will shine when all else fades"

Over the last week, the Lord has been speaking to my broken heart (through lyrics) and the holy spirit interceding when I am at a loss for what to pray.  Which reminded me of Romans 8:26-27:

²⁶ In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. ²⁷ And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God.

It has been comforting to sit in this truth.  This is what I held onto in the first few hours of finding out. When I was paralyzed and in shock.

Any who, back to the part about how the Lord has been speaking to my heart and using lyrics to do that and remind me of how to pray.  These lyrics have put how I have been feeling into words.  A task that I have been failing at lately.

When I'm overcome by fear
And I hate everything I know
If this waiting lasts forever
I'm afraid I might let go
(All Sons and Daughters: "Reason to Sing")

and yet,
When I don't understand, I will choose you
When I don't understand I will choose you God
When I don't understand I will choose to love you God
(Bryan and Katie Torwalt's: "I breathe you in, God")

And my hope can be:
One day you will set all things right
(JJ Heller: "Your hands")

Because its not right. (holy smokes, cue tears).  Sometimes it is overwhelmingly freeing to just speak that truth.  That it is not right.  Nothing will ever make this right.  Only the one, the one who pours grace and love out onto us, is big enough and good enough for even this.

Friday music

Processing

My grief looks different this time.

Shock.

When I got the phone call I was sitting in my bed and unlike the time I heard about my mom, I was paralyzed.  I sat in my bed and then at one point moved to one of the couches in our living room.  Each time shaking uncontrollably and unable to get up to start packing or doing anything.

Even two weeks after when I returned to work it was reassuring that someone in my Staff group at work was able to name it and gave me permission to still sit in this stage.

Once in a while when I let myself go there, I can still see physical signs of shock when talking about AJ and everything.  If I try and think through different circumstances that could have happened that night and whether or not AJ was scared or if he felt pain or whatever I get nauseous.

Denial.

I spent much of the first week in denial. I was no longer in denial after the family viewing. The viewing made it real as only a viewing can.

Numbness.

And now, now I am numb.  Numb because I cannot process everything that happened without knowing the truth.  And unfortunately, we still do not have the truth (4 weeks later) as those involved continue to lie and/or are not forthcoming with the details of that evening. There is also more information that just cannot be released as there are no arrests or charges just yet.  Its hard to grasp how so much could have happened in just a short few minutes.  And its even harder to understand how people can be so selfish and not come forward with what happened to allow us to grieve and have peace in knowing.

What is to come?

Its kind of terrorizing waiting for the phone call that will allow me to know more.  One time this last week we thought we would hear more and my anxiety level was through the roof.  I don't know what knowing the truth will do.  I don't know how I will react and I do not know where I will be when I find out.  As frustrating and anxious as it can make me I have been trying to trust God's timing. Trusting that there will be grace in knowing right when we do find out.

I assume the dreams and restlessness will start.  When my mom passed I didn't sleep soundly for 3-4months.  My subconscious was trying to work through and make sense of it.  And although I slept I never woke rested. This even happened for about a month when Dori went on hospice and then passed. There have only been a few very distant dreams thus far with both my mom and AJ in them recently. 

Struggling to see Jesus in his passing...

There have been many times since hearing AJ had been shot that I have asked  told the Lord that I do not want this "hard".  That I do not want to know this loss and pain. That I do not want to be this strong.  Continued prayers as we grieve and wait for more answers.  And continued prayers as we wrestle with the Lord taking my mom when he did and how that affected the settings and those whom AJ was surrounded with. Its hard to accept and not want to play the "what if" game.

And some of you whom I value your spiritual maturity and faith greatly, have encouraged me in my wrestling as you too identify with trying to understand how this could be true. Thank you for your vulnerability because I need to know that I am not alone in struggling to understand.

4 years

Four years is a long time and yet it seems like yesterday.

 Last Friday (January 30th) marked four years since my moms passing.  This year it was different.  This year it stung a little more with AJ's recent passing.

This year I thought it was going to be a little easier and I felt that I had worked a lot on healing and working through my grief over the last year.  And then I was blindsided.

It was good to be able to take the day off, to make my mom's stew, to sing and dance in my kitchen as I made the stew as we did so many times growing up.  It was good.  And yet it was hard.

I have amazing support.  One of my friends the last two years has dropped off fruit (my favorite) and a card to encourage me.  And this year my co-worker Kim made sure I had Doritos and sour cream (a favorite of my moms).  Both small tokens of kindness and support. And many more texts or messages of those who wanted to make sure that I did not feel alone.

The greatest thing that each of them did is speak truth over me and encourage and call out who I am and how I have not allowed the loss in my life to define me.  Oh how I needed those words.  Sometimes there are days that I feel like I am failing at everything in life and I am so consumed with everything that has happened.

As you listen to the lyrics and advice in the next song (a favorite of my moms) I hope that you enjoy these awesome pictures of my mom that we got over Christmas from my dad's closet.  She never really loved her picture taken as we were growing up but there are few gems from when I was young.

Baby shower when mom was pregnant with me

Saying Goodbye

I thought I would share what I read at AJ's Funeral:

AJ has always had a special place in my heart. You see, being the second oldest girl in a line of sisters doesn’t put you as the favorite.  I had to beg my younger sisters to play with me.  However, even if for just a short time while he was younger, I was AJ’s favorite. I had finally swayed one of the younger siblings.

Being that AJ was 10 years younger, I have many fond memories of him growing up.  From helping change his diapers, swinging him around like an airplane, feeding him one bite of baby food (and then myself one as well), rocking him back to sleep if he woke up, to sleeping next to him when Ashlyn and I came to visit or rubbing his back until he would fall asleep.  He definitely had me wrapped around his finger.

One funny memory I have is when we tried to explain that his mom was also our mom.  With a blended family such as ours, even for adults it is hard to keep it straight.  AJ was no different and always insisted that mom was his mom.

My favorite thing that AJ would do is ask mom to call me.  He was probably 4-6 years old when he started to do this. It was the best to answer the phone and hear his sweet voice.  He would tell me all about what he had been up to.  From how many goals he scored in soccer, tricks he could now do on the trampoline, to how he had played with the cats and dogs.

Needless to say this would end as he grew up because as a typical teenage boy he didn’t like to talk on the phone.  But if on occasion he did call I would be sure to answer no matter where or what I was doing.  I loved hearing about what he had been up to, his dreams, and what kind of car he wanted to get one day.

AJ, being 16, was full of life, hope, and energy.  I am sad that I will not get the opportunity to witness the man that he would have become.  AJ was so smart and had the world ahead of him.  Although he was far from perfect he knew what he needed to do to reach his dreams and at the end of the day, he loved people well.

We have all had a lot to work through with our moms passing almost four years ago. AJ being so young had to navigate through this loss in a different way. I remember the innocent questions of fear and confusion soon after her passing and knowing that all I wanted to do was take away that pain.  I pray that this community of family and friends would be able to walk together and find peace through the pain of losing AJ. 

As I have been reading Kara Tippetts book “The Hardest Peace” this week and in light of the chaos and unanswered questions I’ll leave you all with this quote, “Sometimes the hardest peace to find is the peace in saying goodbye and leaving the work of justice and reconciliation to Jesus.”

Grace

I remember that it took me a while to realize some of God's grace when I found out that my mom had passed away suddenly.  But no matter how long it took, the grace was there.  It was in having my best friend in town and visiting for the weekend.  In not being in a public place like church where I would have been if Lynda had not been visiting.  It was in getting the phone call and not having my phone on silent in my purse until after church. There was grace.

This time, I tried to look for grace. It took a few days into it to really start looking for that grace.  A week after his passing I got a kindle version of the "The Hardest Peace: Expecting Grace in the Midst of Life's Hard" by Kara Tippetts.  I had seen her blog before and I have also heard about her through a college friend's blog who is fighting breast cancer. I had been meaning to get the book from the library at home even before AJ passed, but decided that I needed to read it now.  And it helped with the down time of waiting that took place during that week before the funeral because AJ's body was held for the investigation. 

You don't have to have cancer to get something out of Kara's book.  It was a blessing and I look forward to rereading it once some of this fogginess lifts.  I wanted to share with you all some of the grace that I have found over the last few weeks.  I hope it comforts and strengthens hope in those close to us that are hurting with us as we walk this road. As we try and make sense of it all...

I found grace:

• grace in getting the call when I was spending time with God.
• grace in having Brian home that evening and not at school working on homework.
• grace in getting the same connecting flight as one of my sisters who was coming for St. Louis, Lauren
• grace for amazing coworkers, friends and family giving generously to pay for our plane tickets and even some money we could bless my older sister with.
• grace for generous people able to make having a funeral possible
• grace in repeating over and over again in my head that "you, God are GOOD enough for even this" as the reality of all of this continued to sink in at the candle lighting.
• grace to be able to pray with and for all those at the candle lighting even in the midst of my own grief.
• grace to start reading "the hardest peace"
• grace that I had seen AJ just the week before
• grace that I got to see a bunch of family members I would not have seen outside of something like this that brought us together.
• grace in hearing the following lyrics in my head as we waited outside of the viewing room: 

In the morning, when I rise
In the morning, when I rise
In the morning, when I rise
Give me Jesus

• grace in hearing the following lyrics in my head and praying them over my little brother as I faced him and everything sunk in:

Oh, When I come to die

Oh, When I come to die

Oh, when I come to die

Give me Jesus

Give me Jesus

• grace to speak at my brothers funeral which is something I was unable to do at my moms.
• grace for an amazing co-worker, Kim who helped send out an e-mail to get help financially, being awesome at work while I was gone, bringing food over the first night we were home and being my bouncer at work ;)
• grace for an amazing boss who genuinely cares and can make me cry at how  blessed I am to work for a man that truly cares about my well being.
• grace for a small group to go to and begin processing everything with.
• grace for my pastor4staff group at work that loved me well and is a safe place.
• grace in having a community that I came back to.

As much grace as the Lord pours out on me, I am still working on giving myself grace. Grace for my lack of ability to remember things. Grace for not having as much energy. And grace for however I need to process all of this.

AJ Hoover 01/07/2015

Remembering my brother.


Last picture taken of AJ just over a week before.
December 2014

A.J. Hoover; loving brother, son, nephew, and friend, age 16, was born on May 4, 1998. Tragically taken too soon on January 7, 2015.

A.J. is preceded in death by mother, Kathy Hoover. He leaves behind his dad, Alan; sisters Ashlyn, Megan, Chelsea, Lauren; several aunts, uncles, cousins, loved ones, and friends.

A.J.'s laugh and smile were infectious. When he smiled the world smiled. From the time A.J. was a toddler he was incredibly competitive. A.J. loved all sports: basketball, baseball, boxing, skateboarding, soccer, track, and hiking. He was all around your typical boy and always outdoors. But with four older sisters, he couldn't help but be a sweetheart. He had a heart of gold and would do anything for anyone, no questions asked.

Born in Phoenix, Arizona, A.J. moved to Houston, Missouri at five years old. He went to school in Missouri kindergarten through freshman year and created several lifelong relationships. He moved back to Phoenix in August 2013. Over the course of a year and a half he made several friends and impacted many people's lives.

A.J. had planned to finish high school and join the military. He loved the idea of travelling the world. He was incredibly intelligent, but not a fan of school. The military would have been perfect for him. He would have been successful in anything he decided to do. Unfortunately, his life was cut short before he was able to pursue his goals and dreams.

A.J. will be missed by all, never forgotten and forever in our hearts!

School pictures over the years

2003

April 2012

May 2012

December 2013



2003

 

Maybe 1999-2000 Lauren and AJ

 

 I think this last picture is my favorite picture of AJ because this is how I remember him from when he was little.  That little face is my favorite!

1999-2000 Sometime