Aging through Grief to Service

Good Friday seems an appropriate day to discuss grief.

At any stage in our journey of Aging with Grace, we may suffer grief. The loss may be small or huge, sometimes causing us to feel as if all progress in our lives has stopped.

• As young adults we might grieve the necessity of choosing one path over another, or the realization that we might not achieve what we had hoped. We might mourn the loss of a relationship that we thought would be “the one.” In our twenties and thirties, a “quarter-life crisis” for some, we might find that we aren’t as far along a career or relationship path as we thought we might be. We might be lonely and wonder if we will ever find love.
• Grief might hit us in our middle-age years if we miscarry, our parents die, we suffer through an unwanted divorce, or our child falls seriously ill.
• If we are blessed with a long life, we will face many losses. We lose the constant companionship of our children as they grow up and move away. Even grandchildren will eventually be too old to nestle into grandma’s lap. Many of us will lose our spouses and dear friends to death. We will adjust over and over to new health issues, grieving the loss of pain-free joints and sharp vision or hearing or thinking, while possibly relying on a cane or walker or wheelchair. We may need to move from our home, letting go of sentimental attachment to things. We mourn losing our healthy bodies or quick minds. We grieve the way society sees aging as a weakness—or doesn’t see us at all.

In A Woman’s Guide to Healing the Heartbreak of Divorce, Rose Sweet contrasts fear and faith in the midst of grieving:

• Fear – I don’t want to grieve any more. It’s too big. It’s too painful. I’m sick of it. I want to move on. It doesn’t feel good. What will people think if I’m weak with grief? Why can’t I just avoid it? I’ll be fine, really I will, won’t I?
• Faith – I know God has given me tears for a reason. He designed me to grieve so that I could heal. I will not be afraid of the pain, knowing He will give me His grace to get through it. After all, God’s people wept. Jesus wept. I am not alone.

Marilyn Willett Heavilin, wrote Roses in December: Comfort for the Grieving Heart to offer hard-won advice. I’ll quote just a few of her points and recommend her book highly:

• Knowing that God cares doesn’t take the hurt away, but it does make the hurt bearable.
• God has experienced sorrow. He, in fact, was a bereaved parent, because He, too, had a Son who suffered and died. But the exciting news is God’s Son didn’t stay dead. He conquered death for each of us so that we can have the hope of spending eternity with Him in heaven. We also can have the hope of seeing our loved ones again.
• Life is never the same after a loved one dies or you suffer some other major loss. But life can be good again—different—but good.
• Don’t feel you must rush into any big decisions. Do your grief work. Give yourself time. Seek God’s heart and let Him guide you into the unique purpose He has for you.

His purpose for you, in time, will be to serve others. Yet, for now, what do we do with our grief? For a while, grief will keep us from being available to help others; we simply don’t have the energy or the inclination. (This might be the time to accept help from others.) When grief hits us hard, we can’t continue on our own. Grief can freeze us in place and threaten to make us bitter or always angry or hopeless. At these times, we must turn to another kind of Aging with Grace, beyond maintaining a positive attitude. We must let go, trusting and believing that God has a beautiful plan that sometimes comes with pain, yet is still beautiful and always loving. We must ask God for His grace, His loving strength. Then, relying on God, resting in His arms, we go on, and at some point, we begin to recognize His gifts again and know we are loved.

(If grief is prolonged and accompanied by appetite or sleep changes with a lack of enjoyment for what once used to bring joy, consider talking to a professional. Depression is treatable!)

I’m reminded of Jesus on the night before His crucifixion. He gathered His beloved followers for one last supper. He went out into the garden, into nature. He prayed.

When his disciples were grieving after His death, they gathered together and, when the Spirit came and moved them, they went out and proclaimed His Good News. They began to share about their Savior, and they served others.

So, if we follow Jesus’ example, and that of those who knew Him best, we should:

• Spend time in nature and prayer.
• Gather with those who are supportive.
• Share a meal with loved ones.
• Wait on the Spirit to direct us.
• Go out and serve others.

(It strikes me that most of these are parts of our church services, too.)

Serving others, making this tragedy that you mourn work somehow for the good of others, is a wonderful antidote to grief. The author I quoted above, Marilyn Willett Heavilin, lost three sons at three different times. She eventually was able to share, through writing and speaking, about her own experience with grief and how God supported her through His Word, her church community, and her friends.

When our daughter was diagnosed with Tourette Syndrome, my first reaction was strong denial, but eventually I accepted the diagnosis and went on to help two other women start a local support group. When depression struck members of our family, I began to study counseling, and I hope now that by using what I learned, my writing helps people through similar circumstances.

Some people may be called to a new career or volunteer position that strives to keep others from experiencing the grief they’ve known, such as Mothers Against Drunk Driving or Alcoholics Anonymous. Others may simply reach out to help their neighbors or friends through uplifting notes, or a hot dinner. Perhaps our limitations allow us only to pray for others, yet that may be the greatest gift of our lives.

Last week, Necessary Losses taught us, “As we near the end of our lives, we find meaning by leaving the world better for the next generation.” When you serve others, some sadness will remain, yet your struggle will gain meaning, and that can heal your heart.

Let us go forth to love and serve our Lord… and God’s people.

Thank you for sharing your Lenten journey with me. May your (Good Friday) grief eventually lead you to (Easter) joy!

Betty Arrigotti

What If, If Only, and Why?

In the book, Calm My Anxious Heart, Linda Dillow talks about three “spiritual diseases” that disrupt our calm: What If, If Only, and Why.

What if…

Do you worry about your children, your finances, or your health? What ifs borrow trouble, causing fear about the future, rather than doing our best and trusting God. If we indulge in this spiritual disease, as the author calls it, it will lead us to anxiety. Psalm 112:7 proposes a better way: “[The righteous ones] will have no fear of bad news: their hearts are steadfast, trusting in the Lord. (NIV)” God doesn’t guarantee us that all will be well, but we know God will be there with us. He will help us through, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. (Romans 8:28)

Dillow says, “Attack the what ifs,” like Willis Carrier, who writes:

• Ask yourself, “What is the worst that could possibly happen?”

• Prepare yourself to accept the worst if you must, and then

• Calmly proceed to improve on the worst.

If only…

We think, “If only this had happened or that hadn’t, THEN we’d be happy/calm/satisfied, etc.” But dwelling on the if onlys expresses a doubt that God is in charge of our lives, that He has our best interest in mind, and loves us very much. We may not understand His choices and the struggles He allows us to bear, but we aren’t God. We don’t see the future, or even the full story of the past and present. As hard as it is when our life seems to be falling apart around us, we must trust Him. If we indulge in if-only thinking, self-pity will lead us to anger.

Dillow reminds us, “There’s an if in every life—something God could have done differently if He had chosen to do so. He has all power, yet He often allows that if to be there.”

She quotes philosopher Epictetus, “I am always content with that which happens, for I think that which God chooses is better than what I choose.”

How does Dillow propose to overcome the If Onlys? She says,

Read Psalm 77 and hear the psalmist’s pain-drenched words:

“My soul refused to be comforted. I remembered you, God, and I groaned; …I was too troubled to speak. …Has his unfailing love vanished forever? …Has his promise failed for all time? …Has God forgotten to be merciful?

These questions sound like my questions. But listen to how the psalmist’s despair changes from pity to praise.

I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago. I will consider all your works and meditate on all your mighty deeds. Your ways, God, are holy. What god is as great as our God? You are the God who performs miracles; you display your power among the peoples.”

I will remember. This is a key to trusting God. Many nights I have gotten out of bed, taken paper and pen in hand, and forced myself to remember what God has done in the past, to remember His faithfulness to me. As I list all God has done, it helps me to trust Him in the present.”

The third “spiritual disease” that steals our calm is:

Why?

Why did our loved one die? Why does a child get cancer? Why am I the way I am?

We don’t know why, and this side of heaven, we might not ever know why. But God does know, and He treasures your loved one, and the child with cancer, and no matter what you’ve done He loves you completely and unconditionally.

I am reminded of Corrie Ten Boom, who in a Nazi death camp asked God why, on top of everything else, her barrack had to be infested with fleas. Before long she realized that because of the fleas, the guards rarely entered her building. As a result, she could lead her bunkmates in studying God’s word. From this she learned how to be thankful in all circumstances.

After reading Ten Boom’s book, I remember trying to pray with thanksgiving on countless nights at 3 a.m., as I fed and calmed a sleepless baby. I look back now and realize she and I bonded in those wee hours when her sisters were asleep. I couldn’t have focused as well on her had she enjoyed her waking hours at the same time as her sisters. When I am stuck on asking why, perhaps I simply have not yet discovered the blessing of whatever “fleas” are in my life.

I love Reinhold Niebuhr’s Serenity Prayer. It has become associated with Alcoholics Anonymous and other 12-step programs, but can be a guiding light for any worriers:

God grant me the serenity to accept that which I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference, living one day at a time, enjoying one moment at a time, accepting hardship as a pathway to peace, taking, as Jesus did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it; trusting that You will make all things right if I surrender to Your will, so that I may be reasonable happy in this life and supremely happy with You forever in the next.

Blessings on your Lenten week ahead! We are half way!

The Top Twelve Things about Life that I’ve Learned from Writing Fiction

Last Saturday, Beta Sigma Phi, the international women’s social, cultural and service organization, invited me to speak at their regional meeting. We had a great time together and I met very impressive women. Here is part of the talk I gave:

1. People need to connect emotionally. A writer, to be successful, needs to connect with her readers through the emotions she creates on the page. We, as women, are usually much more aware of the need to interact emotionally with people, than many men who sadly have been taught to focus on productivity rather than relationships.

2. Everyone needs some creativity in their lives. For me writing is therapeutic. For others it might be painting or singing, drama or woodwork. We adults need to play! By trying our hand at creativity, we discover that we can keep learning and improving as we go. Without play we can become dull and mechanical. And we won’t have the imagination to see what we could be, if we try something new.

 3. You can’t make someone like you, or what you write, or even make them read what you write. My oldest daughter can’t bring herself to read my novels because she’s afraid there will be sex in them. No one wants to connect their mother and sex in the same thought. I may have been a little devious lately when my husband drove our daughter and me to Seattle. I read novel # 3 aloud and she was forced to listen the whole way. I have to admit, she could have put on her headphones and listened to music, but she didn’t. She says she tried the door but the child safety locks were on.

4. We all hate to leave our comfort zones. Novels often open with a glimpse of the ordinary life and its challenges. Then some event or person disrupts that life or causes the hero or heroine to have to leave it behind. Our current life starts looking pretty good to us when it is proposed to us we need to change it in order to accomplish some good.

In my first novel, Hope and a Future, poor Colm, who is terrified of flying, must leave Ireland for a temporary teaching position in Portland. Otherwise he would never meet Marjorie!

We all hate to leave our comfort zones. But if no one did, even when it becomes very uncomfortable, we wouldn’t make this world a better place.

5. We are all on a quest. Our life story is written day-by-day as we work toward becoming the best version of ourselves. So is everyone else’s, so it makes sense to sometimes be the subplot friend who helps accomplish someone else’s goal. You never know, you might even be making progress on your goal at the same time. But despite setbacks and detours, we need to keep making progress toward our goal.

6. We need friends to help us along the way. Think of Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, or Harry Potter. Or any 70s sitcom, for that matter. Think of your friends. Without friends, the mission would be doomed.

7. We all have flaws that keep us from being the hero we’d like to be, or doing the deeds that we’d like to accomplish. I struggle with introversion and so I don’t reach out to others as much as I wish I did. Some main characters are proud, or distrustful, or lack self-confidence, or courage. They must overcome their flaws to achieve their goals.

In Hope and a Future, my heroine Marjorie lost her husband of 25 years in a car accident. Her guilt over the failings in her marriage keep her from being open to any new love in her life. Her Irish hero-to-be, Colm, has so many phobias that he lives a very limited life, at least until he starts facing his fears one at a time.

Our weaknesses often are what bring us to growth, when we face them and steadily overcome them, or … at least beat them into submission for a time.

Our flaws, on their flip sides, can be also our gifts. One stubborn daughter is also tenacious and has persevered her way into being a successful engineer. One overly quiet, watchful child grew up and turned her deep thoughts into great academic success, and avoided many common pitfalls by observing and avoiding her friends’ mistakes. One daughter as a teen declared she wasn’t going to work too hard for A’s anymore because she was tired of being a Goody Two Shoes. Now as a school counselor, she has a special connection with the type of students who tend to fall through the cracks.

8. Sometimes going home is extremely challenging. Remember fearful Colm from book 1? He is terrified of horses, and grew up on a horse ranch. In the sequel book 2, Where Hope Leads, his father wants him to come home and take over the business. The poor guy must fly back to Ireland but suffers a panic attack, missing his plane. Going home can be an ordeal.

In book 3, When the Vow Breaks, Kay left an abusive father behind when she fled Montana and moved to Spokane. Now her mother and father need her to return to take care of them. She really doesn’t want to go.

But going home can teach us a lot about ourselves. We all need to look back on our childhood with the eyes of an adult, with the advantage of some time and distance between us and what happened in our families. Sometimes, we can mend hearts that were broken and reconnect to people we truly love deep down.

9. Conflict is good. Our struggles help us to grow so we can overcome that main character flaw that keeps us from succeeding. We fight, we fail, we learn from our mistakes and the next time we get closer before we fail again. But each struggle brings us more information and calls out a better self than we were before. Each attempt, whether a success or failure, leads us closer to our goal.

You might say, “That’s fine for a character in fiction. A good story has to have conflict. In fact, one of the most common errors of new writers is being too easy on their characters. As a mom, I spent 25 years of my life trying to limit, solve, resolve or forbid conflict. I’m not sure I’m done yet. My poor characters, on the other hand, are subject to me increasing, enhancing, and in general bringing all sorts of unpleasant conflict into their lives.

Looking back as a mom, I see how the struggles my children had in their young lives taught them lessons that continue to serve them well in life. One daughter has Tourette Syndrome and had to learn interdependence to make it through. She is just as willing to help as to ask for help and, after working as a special education teacher for several years, is now a mother of two and is back at school working toward a Physical Therapy doctorate. Her personal experience with special needs has made her tender heart want to reach out to help those who struggle to meet goals that are easy for others. Conflict is good.

10. We are often drawn to our opposites. In romance writing, the hero and heroine can be so different that they are at first repelled by each other like opposing magnets. In fact, you can predict the end of a romantic comedy by seeing which man and woman dislike each other the most at the beginning. Consider Mary and Matthew in Downton Abbey. Or Pride and Prejudice’s Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy. Somewhere along the way in most romances, the magnetic field flips and the attraction becomes powerful.

Like good romance heroes and heroines, in real life, we are often drawn to our opposites. I think this is because we are meant to learn from our “soul mates” so that their strengths teach us to overcome our weaknesses. We are meant to learn from each other, but we tend instead to polarize and become more extreme in our strengths and weaknesses. The emotional spouse takes over all feeling while the rational spouse takes care of business. Or the introvert becomes overwhelmed by the extrovert, and rather than learn to enjoy a little more socializing, becomes even more protective of privacy. Perhaps the responsible person watches the fun-loving date become an irresponsible spouse and resents him, rather than learning to lighten up a bit and helping the other grow.

In When the Vow Breaks, independent Kay eloped with compliant Wade on graduation night. When they returned home, peace loving Wade agreed to an annulment to appease his mother, thinking it was only temporary. Heart-broken and angry, Kay fled home planning to never return … but then later found out she was pregnant… with twins. (That’s the cruel writer heaping conflict on her poor characters.) But if Wade had learned some independence from Kay, or Kay some peace keeping from Wade, well… it would have been a much shorter, duller novel. As it is, the novel actually starts 18 years later when their twins have just left home.

11. We need to use what we’ve gained to help others. At the end of any great quest, the heroine should bring back what she learned, or accomplished, or attained, in order to improve the lives of the people she left behind. In The Lord of the Rings the quest brings peace back to the Hobbit’s Shire. Harry Potter, in every book of the series, makes the world a safer place for wizards and muggles alike. In my sequel to the first novel, Where Hope Leads, Marjorie and Colm both want the other to relocate to their homeland. Marjorie hopes Colm will stay in Portland, and he hopes she will fall in love with Ireland. I won’t tell you who wins, but I can assure you that by the end of the book they’ve grown enough to consider the needs of others as important as their own. When they are willing to be open to God’s leading, they find a way to help their version of the Shire.

And finally…

12. We want satisfying endings, and usually in books, though not always, that means happy ones. Daughter 3 once was so upset when a favorite character died, she threw her book in the freezer to punish it. I think we’ve all gotten to the end of a book or a movie and thought, “No, that’s not the right ending!” We feel like we’ve been cheated. We invested hours in reading or $15 at the theater, and we aren’t satisfied. Sometimes I wonder what God thinks as we move away from the direction he wanted us to head. I imagine he might like to throw us into the freezer for a while. Which might explain me growing up through Montana winters!

I suspect that when our time on this earth is over, we will look back and be satisfied with our lives if we’ve done something meaningful, if we’ve improved this world, either by making it more beautiful, or helping others, or by the wonderful children we’ve raised.

So, to sum up, the truths I’ve learned while writing fiction:

• Relationships are deepened through sharing emotion. Don’t be afraid to love, laugh, enjoy, but also to cry, grieve, and let anger inspire you to positive action.
• Expressing creativity sets us apart as human and is necessary for happiness.
• We can’t make people like us. That’s ok. It’s more important to like ourselves.
• No one wants to leave their comfort zone, but wombs get tight, and we can’t grow unless we do.
• Friends make the road seem easier and help us make it through our journey.
• We will all have challenges. They make life interesting, and as difficult and even devastating as they can be, they help us grow.
• We are meant to learn from our loved ones how to grow stronger in our weak spots, not how to avoid growing. If both people continue to grow throughout their journey, the travel is sweet indeed.
• We each have a quest that only we can achieve. To succeed we need to face our flaws and fears and grow through them.
• Then we need to bring back what we learned for the good of others—
• So that we can have a satisfying ending.

Wishing you all successful quests and meaningful lives.

Recognizing Relationship Danger Signals

Last week we discussed differentiating true fear from anxiety and worry. Sadly, sometimes people get so used to true fear that they ignore it. In The Gift of Fear, author Gavin de Becker writes, “People who ignore their intuition, their mind and body’s warnings of danger, either through self-doubt or groomed desensitization, can find themselves in very imminent risk of harm or death.”

You may know people in difficult relationships or be in one yourself, and with de Becker’s permission to quote directly, I include his list of pre-incident indicators associated with spousal violence or murders. Perhaps it will help you to help yourself (or someone you love) recognize an unsafe situation, take control of your life, and leave safely. Or maybe a controlling person may recognize himself and seek help before it is too late. (Note that sometimes the genders in these warnings can be reversed.)

“The signals won’t all be present in every case, but if a situation has several of these signals, there is reason for concern.”

1. The woman has intuitive feelings that she is at risk.
2. At the inception of the relationship, the man accelerated the pace, prematurely placing on the agenda such things as commitment, living together, and marriage.
3. He resolves conflict with intimidation, bullying, and violence.
4. He is verbally abusive.
5. He uses threats and intimidation as instruments of control or abuse. This includes threats to harm physically, to defame, to embarrass, to restrict freedom, to disclose secrets, to cut off support, to abandon, and to commit suicide.
6. He breaks or strikes things in anger. He uses symbolic violence (tearing a wedding photo, marring a face in a photo, etc.)
7. He has battered in prior relationships.
8. He uses alcohol or drugs with adverse effects (memory loss, hostility, cruelty).
9. He cites alcohol or drugs as an excuse or explanation for hostile or violent conduct. (“That was the booze talking, not me; I got so drunk I was crazy.”)
10. His history includes police encounters for behavioral offenses (threats, stalking, assault, battery.)
11. There has been more than one incident of violent behavior (including vandalism, breaking things, throwing things.)
12. He uses money to control the activities, purchases, and behavior of his wife/partner.
13. He becomes jealous of anyone or anything that takes her time away from the relationship; he keeps her on a “tight leash,” requires her to account for her time.
14. He refuses to accept rejection.
15. He expects the relationship to go on forever, perhaps using phrases like “together for life, “always,” or “no matter what.”
16. He projects extreme emotions onto others (hate, love, jealousy, commitment) even when there is no evidence that would lead a reasonable person to perceive them.
17. He minimizes incidents of abuse.
18. He spends a disproportionate amount of time talking about his wife/partner and derives much of his identity from being her husband, lover, etc.
19. He tries to enlist his wife’s friends or relatives in a campaign to keep or recover the relationship.
20. He has inappropriately surveilled or followed his wife/partner.
21. He believes others are out to get him. He believes that those around his wife/partner dislike him and encourage her to leave him.
22. He resists change and is described as inflexible, unwilling to compromise.
23. He identifies with or compares himself to violent people in films, news stories, fiction or history. He characterizes the violence of others as justified.
24. He suffers mood swings or is sullen, angry, or depressed.
25. He consistently blames others for problems of his own making; he refuses to take responsibility for the results of his actions.
26. He refers to weapons as instruments of power, control, or revenge.
27. Weapons are a substantial part of his persona; he has a gun or he talks about, jokes about, reads about, or collects weapons.
28. He uses “male privilege” as a justification for his conduct (treats her like a servant, makes all the big decisions, acts like the “master of the house.”)
29. He experienced or witnessed violence as a child.
30. His wife/partner fears he will injure or kill her. She has discussed this with others or has made plans to be carried out in the event of her death (e.g., designating someone to care for children.)

“With this list and all you know about intuition and prediction, you can now help prevent America’s most predictable murders. Literally. Refer the woman to a battered women’s shelter, if for nothing else than to speak to someone who knows about what she is facing, in her life and in herself. Refer the man to a battered women’s shelter; they will be able to suggest programs for him. When there is violence, report it to police.”

One may ask why a person has stayed in an abusive relationship. De Becker writes:

“Being struck and forced not to resist is a particularly damaging form of abuse because it trains out of the victim the instinctive reaction to protect the self. To override the most natural and central instinct, a person must come to believe that he or she is not worth protecting. Being beaten by a “loved one” sets up a conflict between two instincts that should never compete: the instinct to stay in a secure environment (the family) and the instinct to flee a dangerous environment. […] The instinct to stay prevails in the absence of concrete options on the other side.”

Sometimes people who won’t leave for themselves can be convinced to leave for their children’s sake. However, leaving must be done carefully and with advanced planning, if at all possible, because women are most in danger while, or right after, trying to leave. Women’s shelters can give the best advice.

Violence in relationships is widespread. In today’s Oregonian, Amy Wang writes that 20% of teenage girls who date say they have been victims of violence in their relationships. This could be you, your daughter, or granddaughter. Know the signs. Find help.

National Domestic Violence Hotline 1-800-799-SAFE (7233)  or www.thehotline.org

Dating Abuse and Domestic Violence – “loveisrespect” – call 1-866-331-9474 (24/7) or text loveis to 22522

What is Holy Saturday all about?

Have you ever asked yourself what Holy Saturday is all about? We know the gift of Good Friday – that Jesus suffered and died for us so that we can experience forgiveness now and joy with Him in Heaven. And we understand the gift of Easter – that Jesus rose from the dead, and so doing, conquered death’s hold over us so that we might rise again, too.

So what is the gift of Holy Saturday?

Imagine what the disciples must have felt like on Saturday. Surely on Friday they were numb and couldn’t believe what had happened. But Saturday came and they had to admit Jesus had died. All their hopes for a better life must have died with him. Jesus—who was so charismatic, so good, so filled with potential, who was going to lead them into a new kingdom—had agonized and then breathed his last on the cross.

Think of the women who followed him and hadn’t been able to embalm his body on Friday. Now on Saturday they were not allowed to do so because of the Sabbath. So they were left with no way to show him their devotion, no opportunity to pay tribute to his body. No work to distract themselves from their loss.

I’ve been there, haven’t you? When all your hopes have been destroyed and you realize your dreams will not be realized. Perhaps when someone you love dies? It takes time to process your loss. Your mind doesn’t want to accept the pain and pushes it away in denial. We want to blame someone and often God takes the brunt of our anger. We are where Lazarus’ sister was when she said, “Lord, if you had been here our brother wouldn’t have died!” We are where Jesus was when he said, “Father, why have you abandoned me?”

But at some point in this Saturday experience, you realize a phase of your life is over and you must bear the loss and go on.

I think the gift of Holy Saturday is that even when we are at our lowest, and everything seems hopeless, and even when we can’t feel God is near, he is. When we are in that dark pit, alone and desolate and frightened, he is there. When we are “going through Hell,” we can know the Son of God has been there, too. There is nowhere we can go where he hasn’t been.

Jesus taught us how to make it through the Holy Saturday loss when, though he felt abandoned, he said, “Father, into your hands I commend my Spirit.” He showed us God still exists, even when we can’t feel him, and we can trust and place ourselves in his hands.

Yes, he could have risen on Saturday morning. Yes, he could give us everything we want right when we want it. But then we wouldn’t be given the gift of being able to say, “God, I can’t feel you here. I can’t understand what has happened. I’d give anything to change it and I don’t know why you allowed it. Still, I believe in you. I know, even though it doesn’t seem like it right now, you love me. And I know you are all powerful. So even if I can’t have what I want, I trust you that you know what I need, and you want to shower me with goodness.”

It takes time to get to the point of being able to say this and mean it, all while enduring intense pain. But that’s the gift of Saturday, Time. And because we now know that Jesus did rise and our God isn’t dead, the gift of Saturday is Hope. Because of that Saturday and what happened next we now can trust that a Sunday will come and with it, the resurrection of all that is good.

May all your Saturdays of Despair be followed by Sundays of Life!

Healing After a Miscarriage

Five Steps Toward Healing After a Miscarriage

            “I’m sorry, we can’t find a heartbeat.” I was five months pregnant and the ultrasound technician confirmed my fear; a fourth son or daughter had died before I could cradle the baby in my arms. As I dressed, I heard a doctor talking about the ultrasound patient before me who, upon learning she was expecting twins, had told him she would end the pregnancy.

            In tears, I returned to my doctor who said to expect a spontaneous miscarriage, or—as he called it—abortion, within a few days. When my body continued to embrace its precious treasure, he scheduled me for a TAP, or therapeutic abortion procedure.

            I reeled through the process, so routine for the nurses and doctors who ended pregnancies every day, but so devastating to me. I wanted to proclaim to each of the medical personnel that I was different; I would never choose this course of action if my baby were alive. One kind woman brought me a general surgery consent form so that I wouldn’t have to sign the usual document. The hospital kept me overnight for observation—in the maternity wing.

            Each of my miscarriages was devastating. Each left me with a child-shaped hole in my heart and in my soul. Well-meaning but inadequate comments like, “You can always try again,” or “It must have been God’s will,” gave me no comfort.

            However, today my heart is full and, though still tender, my soul is healed enough to offer suggestions for dealing with miscarriages, whether your own or a loved one’s.

If you have lost a child through miscarriage:

1)      Acknowledge the loss of an individual. Name the child. You will know him or her in heaven.

2)      Mark your loss with a ritual that feels right to you, whether with a formal church service, or a quiet gathering of friends and family at home.

3)      Allow yourself to grieve. Though you didn’t have time to know your child’s face and voice, you knew your hopes and dreams for your child. You anticipated the birth date and carried the child close to your heart. Perhaps you imagined how he would look or what she would grow up to be. Though the details of individuality are still a mystery, God knows and loves your child, and the world suffered a loss when your child died.

4)      Accept that your spouse may experience the loss differently than you. It’s not unusual for one parent to feel much more distress after a miscarriage than the other. With any death, people grieve in different ways. One may want to be alone; another needs to be with loved ones. One person may talk over and over about the loss; another may be made speechless by pain.

5)      Accept that you and your spouse may have mixed feelings, perhaps even relief, about the miscarriage. Parenthood is frightening. You can’t help your feelings, but you can be sensitive to each other.

If someone you know has lost a child through miscarriage:

1)      Acknowledge the loss of an individual. Send a note of sympathy, call, or visit with the bereaved parents.

2)      Let the parents know that you will keep them and their child in prayer. Perhaps you can commemorate the baby’s short life at your next church attendance.

3)      Realize that the grieving parents may not feel the way you expect them to feel. Accept that people grieve differently and that their emotions may fluctuate even hour to hour.

4)      Be sensitive to how difficult it may be for the couple to be around others who are expecting a child or have a new little one. However, continue to include them in invitations to baby showers and christenings, perhaps adding a note to say you understand that this might be difficult for them. Let them decide whether they are ready to accept.

5)      Don’t offer platitudes in an attempt to cheer the couple out of their loss. A simple, “I’m so sorry,” and time spent with them in companionship will let them know you care.

            Today I experience profound gratitude as I watch my four grown daughters, and yes, their births eased the pain, though they didn’t replace the children I lost. Not all women are blessed with motherhood after miscarriages. My heart goes out to them. I know God’s does, too.

            When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled. [   ] Jesus wept. (John 11:33,35 NIV)

Hello world!

Welcome to Betty Arrigotti’s Jubilee Woman blog, a source of encouragement  about such topics as spirituality, home making (not housekeeping), growing past 50 (jubilarian!), and healthy relationships–whether friends, fiancés, married, parents, grandparents, or in-laws).

 I speak from more than 50 years of life experience, 30 plus years of happy marriage, over 100 combined years of parenting, a certificate in Spiritual Direction, and a Masters in Counseling. None of which gives me all the answers. However, we can use this blog as a forum to discuss the questions.

4 Minutes 4 Hard Times – Trust like Jesus

            Welcome back to 4 Minutes 4 Hard Times. Over the last few weeks we’ve looked at aspects of difficult times: worry, fear, gratitude, necessary losses, and money concerns.

 (1 minute version)

            In this  final Lenten post I’d like to consider Holy Week and what we can learn from studying Jesus as he faced his own “hard times.” We start with his triumphant entry into Jerusalem, riding on a donkey and being hailed as “King of the Jews.” The crowd and the apostles held high expectations for this king, that he would overthrow the Roman conquerors and lead the people to wealth and power. Only a few days later those expectations were crushed, their hope crucified.

            During the final hours before his death, Jesus wept in the garden, pled with his Father to let there be another way, suffered betrayal by a loved one, was wrongly accused, was abandoned by all his followers, and felt forsaken by God. He was stripped, beaten, and humiliated.

             He responded to these challenges with trust when he committed to follow his Father’s will rather than his own, accepted his abuse without retaliation, confirmed his identity, promised redemption to the criminal who testified to his innocence, gave his mother into a friend’s care, forgave us all, and—demonstrating his unending love—commended his spirit into his Father’s hands.

            Let’s look at that final act. He commended himself into his Father’s care. Even while suffering to the point of death, he trusted his Father. Isn’t that the ultimate answer to how we need to respond to difficult times? His trust enabled him to follow, accept, forgive, and love. Placing our trust in God will do the same for us.

             “God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.” (Romans 8:28)

(3 minutes more)

             It all comes down to how we answer some “meaning of life” questions:

•  Do you really believe God loves you, and is in fact Love itself?
•  Do you believe God is all-powerful? (Including able to forgive anything?)
•   Do you trust God?

            If we profess God’s love and power, why don’t we trust him completely, even when things go bad? I think we expect God to keep things going as we want them to go. When our expectations (like the Jerusalem crowd’s) are not met, we are tempted to doubt his love and doubt that he wants what is best for us. We become angry with God. We forget that God knows, better than we do, what is best. When Jerusalem wanted power in this world, Jesus was offering them an heir’s inheritance in the next. When we want health and happiness, he may be helping us grow in depth and holiness.

             God longs for us to trust him. Not a problem in good times. Not so easy when challenges crush our spirits. But he treasures our trust in those times, especially. Much of the Bible (if not all) is written to encourage us to trust in God.

             We read about Abraham’s willingness to trust God, “And he believed the Lord, and God counted it to him as righteousness.” (Genesis 15:6)

             Jeremiah, the prophet, writes, “Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose trust is the Lord. He is like a tree planted by water, that sends out its roots by the stream, and does not fear when heat comes, for its leaves remain green, and is not anxious in the year of drought, for it does not cease to bear fruit.” (Jeremiah 17:7-8)

            David, the psalmist, knew all the rewards that come from trusting God: “In you our fathers trusted; they trusted, and you delivered them”. (Psalm 22:4)

 “The Lord is my strength and my shield; in him my heart trusts, and I am helped; my heart exults, and with my song I give thanks to him. (Psalm 28:7)

 “Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him, and he will act.” (Psalm 37:5)

“In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I shall not be afraid. What can flesh do to me?” (Psalm 56:4)

            The entire New Testament is an account from Jesus of how much our Heavenly Father loves us and is anxious to forgive us. How even the sparrow doesn’t fall without God knowing and caring. The night Jesus would be betrayed he said to his apostles, “Don’t let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God, and trust also in me.” (John 14:1) He continued, “I am leaving you with a gift—peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give is a gift the world cannot give. So don’t be troubled or afraid. (John 14:27)

             Jesus knew what was coming and his final words before his arrest were words of comfort for his apostles and for us. He didn’t want us to be troubled by things of this world. He wanted us to trust him and his Father. To trust the way he trusted.

             Even recent saints received messages from God, reminding us to trust in him. The Sunday after Easter is celebrated as the Feast of Divine Mercy. St. Faustina began this special devotion to Jesus’ message, “that His Love and Forgiveness is greater than our sins. All He asks is that we trust in Him, ask for and accept His Mercy, and then let Mercy work through us to help others. He also wants us to be merciful, loving, compassionate, and forgiving to others.”

             Like the gospel command, “Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful,” this demand that we show mercy to our neighbors “always and everywhere” seems impossible to fulfill. But the Lord assures us that it is possible. “When a soul approaches Me with trust,” He explains, “I fill it with such an abundance of graces that it cannot contain them within itself, but radiates them to other souls.“ (St. Faustina’s Diary, 1074).

             None of us want to hear platitudes when we are troubled. Yet, saying “In God we trust,” is not a cliché. Those words hold the depth of wisdom.

             Trust your troubles to God. Each night give your cares to him. He loves you and will be with you through every evil time. He promised he will cause all things to work together for good, for you who love him.

Blessings on your Holy Week.

Betty Arrigotti

4 Minutes 4 Hard Times – Necessary Losses

Last week I asked if 4 minutes was too long. Response was mixed, so I’ll start with a quick summary and if you want to go deeper, more follows.

 (1 minute version)

 In her book, Necessary Losses, Judith Viorst discusses the “loves, illusions, dependencies, and impossible expectations that all of us have to give up in order to grow.”

Viorst writes,

In the course of our life we leave and are left and let go of much that we love. Losing is the price we pay for living. It is also the source of much of our growth and gain. Making our way from birth to death, we also have to make our way through the pain of giving up and giving up and giving up some portion of what we cherish.

We have to deal with our necessary losses.

We should understand how these losses are linked to our gains.

For in leaving the blurred-boundary bliss of mother-child oneness, we become a conscious, unique and separate self, exchanging the illusion of absolute shelter and absolute safety for the triumphant anxieties of standing alone.

And in bowing to the forbidden and the impossible, we become a moral, responsible, adult self, discovering—within the limitations imposed by necessity—our freedoms and choices.

And in giving up our impossible expectations, we become a lovingly connected self, renouncing ideal visions of perfect friendship, marriage, children, family life for the sweet imperfections of all-too-human relationships.

And in confronting the many losses that are brought by time and death, we become a mourning and adapting self, finding at every stage—until we draw our final breath—opportunities for creative transformations.

(3 more minutes)

There is plenty we have to give up in order to grow. For we cannot deeply love anything without becoming vulnerable to loss. And we cannot become separate people, responsible people, connected people, reflective people without some losing and leaving and letting go.

So there we have it. Times in our lives will hurt us. But because of that hurt we will stretch and grow and be more than we were. Like my Grandma used to say as she rocked me, “This too shall pass.”

We might regain what we lost, but more likely we will grieve and hurt and then learn something along the way. We will deepen our character. The more we grow, the greater our peace and happiness can be in this life, as well as in the next.

Here are some times in our lives when we must let go, followed by what we will gain by doing so:

Childhood’s End –

Saint-Exupery writes, “To be a man, a woman, an adult is to accept responsibility.” We make and keep commitments. We don’t blame our current lives on our childhood. We give up a belief that we can be kept safe and receive instead the freedom and responsibility to make our own choices. We accept reality, and with it accept that we don’t get special treatment, absolute control, compensation for past loss, or perfect companions.

The Married State –

We learn that no person can meet all our expectations all of the time, nor can some expectations ever be met. Our spouse can’t make us be happy, heal all our hurts from the past, or fill all our needs. Those unfulfilled expectations are necessary losses in order to truly love our less-than-perfect spouses.

Letting Children Go –

In parenting we fear our imperfect love will harm our children, or we will fail to keep them safe. Facing our fallibility as parents is another of our necessary losses. We must let our children become steadily more independent and let go of them and our dreams for them. It is also through parenting that we accept that some things we wanted from our own parents we will never receive. We learn to give thanks for imperfect connections.

The Loss of Youth –

Time will repeatedly force us to relinquish our self image and move on. We travel stages of our adulthood and must move out of times of stability into times of transition. We leave youth and health behind. We lose abilities and strengths. We let go of dreams as we realize we’ll never accomplish them all. Yet we gain experience, inner depth, acceptance of others, patience, and self-control. We move from body preoccupation to body transcendence. We move from identifying ourselves by what we do or whom we parent to who we are. We can become an integrated whole, accepting our weaknesses along with our strengths.

The Loss of our Loved Ones –

Mourning is the process of adapting to the losses in our lives. We travel through and revisit stages of numbness, denial, intense emotional pain, bargaining, anger, guilt, and idealizing whom or what we lost. But as we find our way through the mourning and learn to let go of our pain, we can come to acceptance.

Accepting our Mortality –

By letting go of our pretense that we will live forever, we acknowledge the importance of the present. We live enriched lives, knowing that each day is vital. We make the most of the present to find a way to leave a legacy to the world for the future.

 So yes, being alive means we will suffer loss. But the loss will open us to new possibilities. Jesus lost his life, but by doing so, regained for us the Kingdom of God. He rose to new life so that we will, too. In that life, there will be no loss.

Blessings on you and on your week!

Betty Arrigotti

To read more:

Viorst, Judith (1998). Necessary Losses. Simon & Schuster.

4 Minutes 4 Hard Times – Gratitude Attitude

I’ve heard from some of you that you are behind in the 4 minute posts, so this one will be very short; it should only take one minute.

 What is the best (and perhaps hardest) thing to do when times are very difficult? Choose gratitude.

• I may not have as much money as I want, but thank you, God, that I have enough for today. (And enough that I can share with those who have less?)

• I may feel desperately lonely, but thank you, God, for loving me always. (And for all the people who have loved me.)

• I may not be as healthy as I was, but thank you, God, that I can breathe. (If I can do more, like see/hear/walk/move, I am blessed indeed).

• I may be confused about my future, but thank you, God, that I can think. (And pray and analyze and read and make decisions.)

• I may feel stressed to the point of breaking, but thank you, God, that you know and care and want me to rest in you.

Rest in God for 15 seconds. Close your eyes. Breathe in your thanks and breathe out your fears.

That’s all for today. Rest. Thank God. Breathe. If you miss having 4 minute posts, rest in God longer, or read this 3 more times!  😉

 Blessings on you and on your week!

Betty Arrigotti

 Rejoice always; pray without ceasing; in everything give thanks; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus. 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18