“What do we do?  Is it too soon to start showing up with food?  Do they need space or people around them?  I never really know what to do in situations like this. I like to get task orientated in these moments, but I don’t know where to start. It feels like it should be different this time, right?”

“I know.  I already asked if we needed to clean the house or do laundry or anything.  Let me just be here a little more and find out what’s needed.  Maybe you could bring lunch out here.”

There’s really nothing to offer your friend when you hear the news that she’s lost her husband. There’s even less to offer when you look her sweet babies in the face and think about their loss of their father.  

Even still, I found my way through their back door. And I offered lunch.  And hugs. And shared tears. And the promise that they are deeply loved and fiercely prayed for. And I tried to find things to do for them, but really—there’s nothing you can do aside from just being there.

Today, I am feeling a little less task-oriented, and my mind is flooding with questions. Questions that have no answers outside of Jesus and really… that should be enough. But if we’re honest… in situations like this, I struggle to really rest there. So today, I’m thankful that Jesus welcomes my confusion and tears, and I’m trusting that He will use this for His glory. And in the spirit of fleshing this out, I offer you notes from my journal that inspired the very first blog I posted…

I am reminded that God is the ONLY one who can bring peace to a whirlwind of emotions.

I am reminded that, no matter how hard you try, you can never prepare yourself for the loss of a loved one.

I am reminded that God is still in the business of picking up the pieces to broken hearts.

I am reminded that, no matter how many memories you recount, it’s not the same as making them.

I am reminded that, even in the death of one of your closest friends, God can still bring glory to His name.

I am reminded that it’s still OK to cry. “Life” doesn’t give us that permission.  Tears have great value. Not one tear that is poured out before God ever goes unnoticed… God not only gives His children permission to cry; He rather encourages it.

I am reminded that, in a room full of people that you’ve known your entire life, you can still feel like you’re very much alone.

I am reminded that none of us are guaranteed tomorrow, so remembering to tell each other today that we love each other is a must.

I am reminded that, no matter how much you’d like to avoid it, “goodbye” comes whether you’re ready or not.

I am reminded that God is who says He is and can do what He says He can do.  Which means, He is absolutely capable of using the death of one of His children to bring glory to His name.  He is God.

Now… go hug your loved ones and be thankful for the time you have together. And be bold enough to tell that stranger looking “down” that they matter. Bake a pan of brownies and walk through that neighbor’s door that’s struggling.

I’m learning that to just be is enough.  And to those of you that come beside me to just be when that’s what I need… thank you.

T’was the first day of Kindergarten

And all through our house

Every creature was stirring

No one quiet as a mouse

The supplies were all labeled

And her lunch was packed

Her picture was taken

Nothing was lacked

The drive was not far

We were greeted with care

The moment was coming

We’d soon leave her there

We made our way down the hall

She held my hand tight

I knew that we could do this

In our God’s great might

The tears rolled quietly

This task was not light

It was harder for me

My mom was right

Nervous for her

I prayed all day

I know she will do this

She’ll learn the way

I left as soon as the clock chimed five

I was ready to get to see her

She talked ninety-five miles an hour

Everything was quickly becoming a blur

She loved it!

This little one we’ve begotten

We lived it.

This first day of Kindergarten

When I was in college, Sunday nights used to be one of the best times to call home and catch up.  That was until my parents started going out every Sunday night to meet good friends at our local Pizza Inn.  It didn’t take long for me to be jealous of that pizza place; it was quickly edging me out of my calls home.  I would call just to hear “Can I call you back?  Your daddy and I are at Pizza Inn and Will’s visiting with us right now.”  Who would have thought that the relationships he was building then would later become his in-laws!

It’s the place we first met.  It’s the first place that our (now) family went out together.  It’s the place that welcomed the husband back with arms wide open when it was time to return to work.  It’s where the littlest girl in our home and I go to see Daddy, share cheese bread, and leave with kisses and balloons.  We celebrated turning five in its corner.  It’s a staple in our family.  It’s Pizza Inn.

And yet… it’s a door that God is closing in order to swing another one wide open.  Our season of waiting for our family to be on the same schedule has come to an end.  And we breathe in deep and sigh slowly, thankful.  Thankful for what Pizza Inn has given our family and thankful for what my husband is going to take with him when he leaves.

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We sit at our kitchen table and I watch as our little one learns why her new after-school plan makes more sense than what we had told her just two months ago.

 “Our family has been praying for something for a long time now.”

She raises her hand.  “Daddy, I know what it is.  Can I tell you?”

“Sure.”

“For you to get a new job!”

“Yes.  Well, God has answered that.  Pretty soon I will be taking a new job at the YMCA.”

“That’s where I’m going to camp!”

They go ‘round and ‘round in conversation, trying to help her understand how this is all going to work and I smile.  Our family is already breathing lighter.  I can feel the pressure alleviating.

Tonight, our prayers changed.  Instead of “Lord, please”, we begin to say “Thank You.”  And we give thanks for all the ways that God is allowing our family to move forward together.  And our little one gives thanks that Daddy’s going to be home by the time we walk in the door in the afternoons.  And I give thanks for a husband that is not only brave enough to lead our family, but is willing to sacrifice the comfortable to move towards what’s best for us.

And I thank YOU!  You who read this and joined us in praying.  You stood in the gaps for us when I was tired of praying for it.  You sent encouraging words our way and we are so thankful to have you walk through this with us.

We’re excited!  Y’all pray that my husband still likes me now that he actually has to hang out with me more.  🙂

Our little lady packed her bags for my parents and I packed our bags for my Mars Hill parents.  The husband and I had blocked out a couple of days weeks ago to get away for a couple of days and just be us.  And the weekend was finally here.  We threw our stuff in the Honda and headed to the hills.

The weekend started with dinner and food went unfinished because we couldn’t share the excitement of what’s happening our way fast enough.  I watched as my husband’s eyes lit up and he shared like he’s known them his whole life.  It felt good to finish a sentence, share new experiences, and catch up with old friends.  It was refreshing to just be us.

That’s the thing about these folks.  You do get this sense that you have known them your whole life.  And you get this sense that they understand everything you aren’t saying.

She and I walked campus and took in all of the changes while the men folks made homemade ice cream.  Tears were shed, laughs were had, and she was Jesus with skin on for me.

We’re home now and I already miss the genuine conversations had around their familiar dining room table.  My heart is full and I am thankful to have had the time well spent sharing hearts and filling in the gaps from our last visit.  Your heart and your story are safe there.  Grace is poured out and love is received.

A little over two years ago, I posted this.  And tonight, I’m reminded of how important it is to be a safe person for the folks you are in community with; the ones you do life with.  And tonight, I’m praying that my heart and my story are safe on this side of the state and that I am a safe person for others.

So I’ll ask you again.  What about you?  Are you a safe person?

For the first time since my mini-me and I can remember, our whole family was together for the whole weekend.  From a Friday evening in our own backyard to a family adventure on Saturday and church together on Sunday—we reveled in the glory of empty dates on our calendar.  We shopped for Kindergarten, ate more than a take-out meal at our kitchen table, and piled up on the couch for a movie.  And we were reminded how much fun we have together.  We chose not to fill our time with the stuff that could have filled our time, but we just thanked the Lord for this gift of free time and said thank you.  We told stories from the early days of our family first coming together and we laughed often, sang loud, and napped hard. 

We took the gift of waiting (not a favorite of the girls in our home) and we enjoyed it.  And we know that this waiting will be worth it.  In this waiting, we are coming into the dreams that we couldn’t see just two weeks ago.  And these dreams match the heart of God better than the ones we had for ourselves.  And our family likes to match. 

And in the spirit of sharing what’s being sung in our car these days, here’s to keeping things simple…

It’s been almost two weeks since our breaking point and I’m learning to breathe and let people love on us. And you guys ROCK—we have definitely been loved on and prayed through one very trying season. And here’s what I’ve learned through the tears:

•  This family can still do hard. We are strong enough to bend.
•  Little Ceasars, a house full of kids, and heart sharing makes me encouraged to stay in this race.
•  “Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion.” (Steel Magnolias)
•  I have to learn to set boundaries. And I have to understand that setting boundaries is an important way of caring for ourselves. It doesn’t make us mean, selfish, or uncaring because we don’t do things someone else’s way. We care about us too and it’s okay to protect and guard us.

• Many problems can be solved over five hours of pizza and froyo.  And, I don’t deserve that kind of friend.  But I’m SOOO thankful for her.
• We all need “safe” people; people we can trust our innermost secrets with and be loved by anyway when those secrets are messy and we can’t always explain them.  It’s important to have those safe people and to know that they are “safe” before you share.
• I have some amazing safe people in my world!

• Dreaming with my husband is super exciting.  We dream BIG!
• God is not only big enough to handle my tears but He welcomes them.  He’s using these tears to refine me.
• I was born into one amazing family and am more and more thankful for that every.single.day.
• A little sunburn is okay when it comes with a side of good friends.
• Courage comes from a heart that’s convinced it’s loved.
• Olive Garden, cookie cake, and late night adult conversation with good friends makes everything seem okay!
• You have to set down all the stuff in order to take Jesus.

And, I could be wrong, but even now as I sit and wonder if my it’s-okay-to-cry-right-now-if-it-helps-you-to-feel-better-but-know-that-it-won’t-change-anything speech was heard at all… I know that God’s about to do something really cool in the world of Team Geanes.

And because my five year old is singing this all the time, I share it with you.  Know that you, too, no matter what you’re walking through are an overcomer…

Just earlier this week, I stood at the dry erase board in our kitchen and I wrote in lime green.  My blood was boiling and tears were slowly rinsing away my makeup.  I began to hear our little one crying down the hall and I knew she was probably overwhelmed with all of the chaos of our house too.  She’s like her Moma; she thrives on ordered chaos.  I felt at such a loss for how our family is supposed to move forward from here.

It has been the kind of week full of tears and pain and while I love my life, it’s been really hard lately.  And, I know that Team Geanes can play hard but I’d really rather ride the bench right now.  Just once.

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The little lady in our home and I have spent the evening in when we should have been at dinner with friends.  I was too drained to make it work and something needed to give.  In hindsight, we probably should have gone.  To laugh around a table full of folks who love us, support us, and meet us in our mess.  But instead, we stay in and try to hide away in front of a movie, hoping to settle into bed sooner.  And the little one does, but I stay up until my eyes are so heavy that it literally gives me a headache to try and keep them open.  I hit ignore each time my phone rings and try to keep napping the time away.  I want so desperately to be consciously aware when my husband walks through our door from work, but I miss it.  It will be morning before I know we’re in the same house together.

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We stand in the kitchen for the five minutes that we have together between him walking in the door and me walking out.

“What’s on your mind?

“I’m just looking at the board over there.”

And for a moment, I feel bad.  I know he’s trying so hard to make all of this work and he’s so outnumbered by two (often times) high maintenance girls.  I don’t want him to lose himself in the race of fixing this for his family.  But I don’t want to lose our family in the fight either.

We kiss each other goodbye and my heart aches as I walk out the door longing for more time.  More time for our family to be home at the same time.  More time to dream together and put feet on those dreams.

And I crawl into my car, tears streaming, and I sit still.  And the question from our little one screams in my mind.  “God remembers our question, right Moma?”

So I ask Him.

You remember our question, right Lord?