Simple Is Better – Real Life Happens

Psalm 23:4 – Even when I go through the darkest valley, I fear no danger, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

On a spring Sunday afternoon, I verbally committed to something out loud. I was determined as I put a date on the calendar and promised to keep it. Friends cheered me on, encouraged me, and voiced confidence that I could complete this huge project.

Until real life happened.

The very next day, my dear friend Pastor Carol died. She had been ill for a couple of weeks. Symptoms began with gastrointestinal bleeding. Then she developed a pulmonary embolism, a blood clot in the lung. Carol and the doctors were optimistic about her recovery. It would just take time and a plan tailored just for Carol.

But then, real life happened.

While I was enroute to the hospital to visit Carol, her daughter called. The blood clot had moved, and she died. We were in shock. Just 48 hours earlier, Carol and I chatted about upcoming church events. Her granddaughter’s wedding. How we would work together to cover various things while she healed.

And then, real life happened.

The parishioners at the church where Carol served were stunned. No one knew how to respond. How could this healthy woman be dead? We all felt robbed as no one really was able to say good-bye. The grief was raw. Real. Deep.

A few days later, I received another unbelievable call. This time, Hubby Rick shared the awful news that a seventh-grade girl from our community had been killed getting on a school bus. A truck, driven by a high school student, avoided hitting the bus by going into a ditch. Unfortunately, he hit the middle-school girl. The deceased was a classmate of our eldest granddaughter, Ellie.

The entire community was heartbroken. How can 12- and 13-year-olds process a terrible situation when adults barely can? I felt sorrow for the family that lost their daughter as well as empathy for the high school student and his family whose lives were turned upside down. This life-changing event affected so many.

This was real life happening before our eyes.

Then, a couple days later, I gathered with the churches that Pastor Carol had been serving for Sunday morning worship. I was leading worship. There had been regular media coverage of the school bus accident. It was the first Sunday since Pastor Carol’s death. Together, we shared our feelings and emotions about losing our beloved Carol. We prayed for all those affected by the school bus incident.

As worship concluded at one of the churches, Hubby Rick unexpectedly came forward. We were in the church where he grew up. Where his mother and grandmother had been matriarchs. Where his son Nate’s funeral had been. Where so many wonderful events in our lives had happened as well as too many challenging ones. It was the very church where Hubby Rick and I met, got engaged, and were married.

This day, Rick spoke about his daughter Shanna. For years, Shanna had struggled with addiction and had a laundry list of charges related to addiction. In two days, Shanna had a court date. We knew she would be sentenced to prison. This day had been coming for a while. While Hubby Rick and I had walked this path with Shanna for years, we shared this journey with a carefully curated short list of people. Rick felt compelled to ask for prayers with the people who had watched Shanna grow up in the church. He asked for prayers for Shanna, us, recovery and those involved in making the decision related to Shanna’s sentence.

This was real life happening in real time.

These events happened in a nine-day window. My brain was exhausted. My heart crumbled. Grief lived in multiple layers. This was real life and I was living it. The grief was not mine alone. Yet I felt a responsibility to try and make sense of what had happened. What was my role in supporting others while acknowledging my own feelings and emotions? How could I lead others in their grief when I had my own? These were not new questions for me; just another time when I had to unpack them for this time and place.

My best-laid plans for finishing the huge project were put on the backburner. It was 18 months before I was able to complete and publish Unraveling Together: Sharing the Threads of Grief, a layperson’s grief guide. I discovered that I could not finish the book as I struggled with my own most recent experiences of grief. Instead, I allowed these experiences to help me discover more of how grief affects me, which informed how I encourage others to explore their grief.

In the following weeks and months, I discovered that I could not adequately help someone else unless I had the air I needed to breathe. If you have ever flown on a commercial airplane, you are familiar with the pre-flight instructions that tell passengers what to do in an emergency. Passengers are told before assisting anyone else to put their oxygen mask on first. No one can adequately help someone unless they have the air they need to breathe.

I pray we embrace and live this advice in our daily lives. When real life happens and we are in a disorienting time, we often feel clueless about what to do. What should be our first step? Put on our oxygen mask. Keep breathing. Make sure we have cared for ourselves before we try to assist anyone else.

Real life will happen. It’s not a matter of “if” but “when.” When it happens, we need the reliability of a dependable oxygen mask. When our worlds are turned upside down, may we embrace the One who yearns to journey with us. Jesus, the Good Shepherd, is with us. His rod and his staff are there to guide us and be our oxygen mask. He wants to comfort us. Help us sort through the awful moments in our lives. Be our companion when things outside of our control happen.

Beyond this, we need fallback measures already in place. Friends and a community in place before we need them. Ways to care for our entire being – emotionally, physically, spiritually and mentally – that become automatic when our world falls apart. Things in place that we do. Every. Single. Day. Established habits of how to best care for ourselves with strong muscle memory. Already in place, these daily actions will sustain us, bring a little order to our lives, and provide space where we can find a moment or two of peace. Figuring out what else we need in our lives to help us navigate challenging days so that we get the daily oxygen we need to live. Survive. Thrive.

Real life is going to happen. It’s not a matter of “if” but a matter of “when.” May accept Jesus’ offer to be my oxygen mask when I need one. To not forget to put it on when I can’t do it alone. And to know there is no need to be afraid of the danger for Jesus is right there. With me. With you. With us.

Blessings –

Dianne

Lord God – Sometimes real life is difficult. Out of our control. Overwhelming and so confusing. When I experience a challenging season, I pray that I will turn to You and allow You to help me breathe. May I let You be my oxygen mask. Amen.

Looking for a bit of daily inspiration? Check out my daily affirmation posts on Facebook and Instagram (Dianne Deaton Vielhuber and Simple Words of Faith.)

Dianne’s Upcoming Unraveling Together Book Events:

Sun., Aug. 30 – Blackhawk Bethlehem Church, 9 AM worship, S10174 County Road C, Sauk City, WI

Sun., Aug. 30 – Pages & Parcels National Day of Grief Event, 1-3 PM, 101 N Main St, Potosi, WI