Tag: grief

Searching For Words

What words can you share with those embracing the most painful moment of their lives? Is there any right words to offer? Any precise Bible verse or poem that would erase the pain and the sense of loss when a loved one passes? Many of us try to offer something to give hope, to comfort or to fill in that awkward silence when we come to meet the grieving face to face. It might end up being awkward, or unbeknownst hurtful to those that are deeply missing the one they loved.

I have heard many of these hurtful phrases myself as well as from the grieving, the group of people whom I have found myself recently aiding through their grief as a volunteer grief counselor. What always happens as they share what people have said that hurt them, was their appreciation that at least someone would approach them and offer something. Their deepest hurts came from those who they thought would have come forward to share a word, were surprisingly silent. The silence hurt more, than the awkward phrases.

I find myself here in this place now over the passing of a newborn within our extended family. My head cannot grasp any meaning that I can offer to say or to write to the young couple. In this modern age of AI and medical advancements, how is this possible? But, I stop myself from considering all the possibilities and sensibilities of how and why God has allowed this, to the realization; I just don’t know. And I can be okay with not knowing, and I can be okay with just offering an “I sorry” to the couple. I am grieving and sad, as is the whole extended family, as someone we never met in person as we live apart from the couple, has brought us grief and affected our lives by his very existence. He was and is created in the image of God, the Imago Dei. He took a breath and met his mom and dad, grandparents, brother, and his cousin, all who were able to hold him and see him as a reflection of both his parents. His life was brief, but he was loved, named and precious as all babies are, yet his life was too short.

So much happens in this life, both good, and bad, joyful and sad, that are lives seem to be a continuous rollercoaster ride of emotions. There is also so much we do not and will not understand this side of Heaven. When we try to make sense of all this, we can find it impossible to find peace, but only when we surrender our needing to know and replacing it with not knowing, we find the peace we look for. When we simply trust God, we can find peace. Trust isn’t always easy, especially when are hearts are breaking and our minds are reeling, but simply speaking out loud to God and telling Him “I don’t understand this, my heart is breaking, but yet I will trust you”

A verse comes to mind from the Gospel of Mark, from a distraught father who asked Jesus to heal his son and Jesus told him everything was possible if you believe. The father’s response “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief” (Mark 9:24 NIV). There are many times when I need to repeat this, I Do belief Jesus, but help my unbelief. He gets it. He understands. He wept over His friend Lazarus’ death. He wept over the city of Jerusalem. He became one of us and felt the pain we feel. We can trust Him with our pain and our grief, even when there are no words. He knows our pain and offers comfort beyond any words we can offer to others, or receive from others. He is the peace we seek. God Bless- Nancy

For The Birds

“Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God. Indeed the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don’t be afraid: you are worth more than the sparrows”- Jesus. Luke 12:6-7.

When I was younger, I never really gave much thought to birds. My Mom did though, and my Aunt Betty. Both were avid bird watchers and bird feeders. Every day my mom would watch the feeder planted in the ground outside the kitchen window to study and make note of the birds eating from the feeder. She could name most all of them. My Aunt Betty was the same. They even had photo reference guide books, if a new strange and unknown bird should land on the perch. But in the past few years my view of birds has changed.

I remember the first time I heard someone mention the visits they had from cardinals after a loved one passed. It was on a television program and I kinda just waived it off as some sort of old wives tales, or in contemporary terms, an urban legend. There was something seemingly so unspiritual for this Baptist grounded woman to accept any messages from dead people in the form of a red cardinal.

When my mom died, I started to see hummingbirds whenever I visited my parents home, at precise moments- the moments when I was finding myself overcome with grief. I began to see that maybe there was the potential for birds to be sort of messengers from God. My mom loved her birds, but especially hummingbirds. It brought me comfort at the time and so I put it in the back of my mind to ponder.

That is until this past year, when a pesky little male cardinal-the red ones- has been appearing everywhere. This past year my dad died and also my husband and I moved to a new house in a new neighborhood. At our old house we had beautiful hedges that the birds liked to build their nests in and hide. Over the time we lived there I would see a few cardinals, but never daily, just once in a while. But when we moved, we lost the hedges and moved into a new housing development, which means no grown trees and shrubs.

But since our move, a little cardinal came out of no where and would sit outside my window and sing his little birdy wakeup song at daylight- every morning. But as I began to think about how this bird appeared shortly after my dad passed, I began to wonder if the story of cardinals visiting after loved ones have passed could have some truth to it.

And then this cardinal started showing up everywhere I travelled. At our daughter’s home, right outside the guest room window, in traveling on the highways, and I think even on a trip to France. There have been pairs of cardinals (male and female) who fly across my windshield right in front of me, so as to not let me miss this greeting. Maybe I’m just noticing more, or maybe there is truth in this legend.

Last week was a particularly difficult week and I found myself faced with many decisions to make- and honestly, I’m not so great at deciding. I was watching a video from the university I attend as part of my online curriculum from my desk. My window blinds were raised so I could catch the view of our garden out the window as I worked on my homework for the course. As the video was ending, I felt at peace with the decision I was struggling to make, when I caught something just outside the window in the corner of my eye. A pair of hummingbirds was pausing mid-flight to stop, and stare at me sitting at my desk, doing my homework. Wow! It left me speechless.

As I have been thinking about whether or not this is from God, I considered just how many examples from the Bible mention birds, included the one I have shared above. The conclusion I’ve drawn is that yes, God can and does use birds to deliver messages of hope. As Jesus is mentioning above, God knows each sparrow, they are not random, and since He knows the smallest little details, including the number of hairs on your head, He will take care of you.

If you think for a moment about other times birds are mentioned- the dove who brought back the olive branch for Noah after the flood, the Holy Spirit mentioned as like a dove, coming down from Heaven at Jesus’ baptism by John, as well as Jesus’ using birds for His teachings, it is not unreasonable to think that God could send little winged messengers to us. And I don’t mean angels. Just little birds to remind us, that we are going to be okay. Birds are not overlooked by God, and it is as if the birds are trying to remind us that they know God looks after them so we should trust God with all our stuff too- our finances, our struggles, our lives, our relationships, our decisions.

This has just been a thought for today, and I’d like to hear your feedback. Do you think God uses birds to teach us? God Bless, Nancy

How to Save A life

I have never thought of myself as any kind of life saver. Not in any philosophical term, I’m a mom so I have saved my kids lives many times over, the forgotten book, homework assignment, sports uniform, cleats, you get the idea. But I mean REALLY literally saving a human life by intervening. I highly respect those who have answered the call to be an EMT or firefighters or police officers, or emergency room personnel. But I was recently told that I had saved the life of another person through my calling and gift; writing. If you are new to this site and aren’t aware I wrote and published a book last year (2024) about my mom and how her loss affected me deeply. It also is about how the medical community unfairly treats the medically vulnerable, those that cannot speak for themselves. If you are interested in reading my story, the book can be found at Amazon, as well as Barnes and Noble, and Walmart, Target and other online book sites. Look for Undone: Letting Go of Perfection, What Grief Taught Me About Faith by Nancy Jalbert.

It has slowly been gaining traction and readers through a grass roots effort as I do not commercially market the book. One of the readers, a co-worker of my husband read the book and has now purchased and passed books on for others to read because she witnessed for herself a similar incident with two elderly relatives. It is because of her story that I share this blog. I believe it can make the difference in many more lives and might even save a life as it did for her family.

She had been given the book by my husband to read because she had an older relative that was sick and it had been recommended that the family commit the relative to a hospice center, but she was feeling unsure. Once she had the book she realized that hospice was not going to be the right decision for the relative and said she would pass the book onto other family members who could learn for themselves the sometimes horrific and painful truth of for- profit medicine in the United States.

That sounds pretty good, but wait a minute until I share the REST of the story. A few months later she related that my book had saved her grandfather’s life. Her grandfather has taken ill suddenly and wasn’t quite himself, and the medical professionals were believing he was suffering from dementia or some other terminal illness while he was in the hospital. The man’s son(her father) questioned the medical team and their recommendation that the gentleman be moved to a hospice center to die. He pulled his father from the hospital and went to another medical facility to be checked out and what’s crazy is it was a completely different prognosis. The elderly gentleman, the grandfather of my husband’s co- worker had a UTI or Urinary Tract Infection. In elderly folks the effects are often cognitive, rather than physical as with younger patients.

So when my husband called from work one day he was excited to share that I had saved a life! His co-worker after reading my book, was well prepared in advance as to what was about to happen after a patient is recommended for palliative or hospice care. ( I realize there are still some hospice related services that are legit, but since it was deregulated in the United States there is a shocking increase as well as reduction in time for patients to spend in hospice) The longer the patient requires hospitalization or hospice care the cost to the insurance companies and medicare/ medicaid increases, so there is a push and a specific terminology used in the cases to provide a smokescreen for what is really happening. Families are blindsided as I was with my mom, who entered the hospital with a fractured hip and was told we needed to put her into a palliative care protocol, rather than operate to repair her hip. We didn’t know what was happening to her but were given a scripted protocol that attempted to explain it to us in a way that made it seem like the right thing to do. Sadly, by the time we figured out what was happening to my mom it was too late. I was shocked, angry and hurt and my story describes the struggle I had going through this experience.

But, as I see it now, God did have a reason for my trial and pain, to help others who are either going through it, or hopefully to bring awareness to this tragedy happening daily in hospitals, nursing homes, assisted living centers and hospice centers. Remember, when you have a hard story to tell, share it, you just might save someone else’s life or help them through their difficult time or maybe prevent it. We need to share our stories and ourselves. Jesus commanded that we should observe two greatest commandments to love God and love our neighbor. Who is your neighbor? Who can you demonstrate the love of God toward? Maybe it will be to share your story, maybe it will save the life of your neighbor. God Bless- Nancy

More

We live in a world that feels like there is always something ‘more’ to be acquired. Something more to be bought. Something more to be done. Some might call it greed at first glance, claiming that we are never satisfied with what we currently have and are always desiring what someone else has that we don’t yet have.

Some blame social media and how easy it is to fall into the comparison trap. Some might say we are all a sinful, greedy, and jealous people who need to rid ourselves of such self- centered sin. The spiritual side might reveal the obvious that we have the God- shaped space within us that can only be satisfied with a personal relationship with God to bring us the ultimate satisfaction and deliverance from the pursuit of more.

While I agree with all of the above to one degree or another, let me pose a different perspective. One that has struck me since the passing of my father last year. What if just maybe, God has designed us with this “more” factor; this hard wired in our personalities, or spirit’s to desire “more”. What if we have been given this innate sense that there IS more to this life than this moment and place in time.

It makes sense to me when I think of the delicate and intricate patterns within the physical design of our bodies. The complexity and functionality of the cell, multiplied many times over with slight variations according to a cell’s purpose. Our bodies work like well- oiled machines and mini factories if you will. I am convinced this complex and wonderful design is not by chance or evolution. Several examples of these cellular factories demonstrate an interdependence upon being formed at the exact same moment, otherwise one part would cease to exist, preventing the proper function of another part. They simply had to be created at the same moment, and not by evolution.

Given this wonder and miracle of human design and mankind’s ability to reason, communicate and have self- awareness, our lives surely are worth more than a compact 70 years (if we are fortunate) and then a complete and total obliteration into the nothingness of the cosmos. We are made for more, not less than our design value.

I have seen the great cathedrals and castles of Europe and the great houses and monuments here in the United States and they have long outlived their builders, but even with the great works of architecture, there was a builder and designer.

Mankind is given a gift to design and build and imitate our Creator, but we are also created in His image and created for not just this limited life, but an after life, an eternal life.

This is what I believe we are looking for and sensing, that there is more. There is a sense of right and wrong (a moral law) that is also given to us by our Creator. We have very similar senses of right and wrong regardless of cultures. There are cultural differences, please don’t get me wrong, but as philosophers like to term it, “gratuitous evil” is not acceptable in the majority of worldviews. Where does this come from? It is not left over from a survival view, since the survival of the fittest, tends to eliminate the weakest first, but actually cannot be demonstrated. Evolution is a theory, not a proven fact.

So what if we are designed for more? Preprogrammed to hold fast to the notion that this life is not all there is. That for a loved one to be separated from us through death, feels wrong, because it IS wrong. If we are designed in the image of God, than doesn’t it stand to reason that we can be eternal as well, that there is more to us than the physical shell that holds within it a body, but also a spiritual and mental capacity dimension that is held within yet not anchored with the physical body? When we die our spirit and soul lives on as our physical form dies.

So, is this desire for more come from a place of wanting the wrongs of this world made right, for justice to be served and recompense given? For a reuniting with our passed loved ones? Is this why we grieve? Is this why we pursue acting well as a responsible person? Do we deep down know there is more to come than our current state? I believe there is. Just something to ponder for today. God Bless, Nancy

A Promise Kept

“For no word from God will ever fail”- Luke 1:37

How many times have I read the passage from Luke’s Gospel account of the Virgin Birth of Jesus and missed the verse above? I’m not sure, but I double checked today, and the verse was still there. It stood out to me a couple of days ago. Right when I needed it. Of course! I’ve found this out about God, He always has the perfect timing, with the right Bible verse when I needed it. And believer me this year I have needed them quite often. I’ll be honest it has been a tough year. I feel my anxiety growing gradually as the year has passed, and now here we are near the end of December, on the eve of Christmas, and I am feeling no joy, no peace, and no comfort.

But I keep holding on to God’s promise. It WILL get better. I’ve seen it before. My sadness, my anxiety, my fear will be replaced by the peace only Jesus gives. My heart will feel joy again and my mind will be filled with hopeful thoughts. This is just a season. I know God will come through and I take comfort in the verse above.

God made the promise to mankind way back in the book of Genesis. To send a Savior. To send a deliverer who would defeat the serpent. And when the people were least expecting Jesus’ entrance into the world, here He came in the lowliest, most unexpected way. He wasn’t born to a royal couple, yet He is a King, no birth announcements or baby showers to prepare for His arrival, but a couple who were young and ill- prepared for a birth in the middle of a government census, yet Jesus was prophesied to have the government on His shoulders in a Kingdom without end. Born in a barn, yet coming from a royal throne in Heaven, that He set aside. The power to create the world, yet in a lowly human body that would need a mother’s care to change his diaper and feed Him.

And here He came. As promised. Not in our time table, but God’s. To love a world and give His life for a wayward group of humans. Humans who always do their own thing, rebelling against God, like a rebellious teenager or determined toddler who say “No!” to what the parent knows is best for them. God kept His promise to deliver us. To defeat death. To offer hope, peace with Him and with our fellow man, joy and a love that surpasses all human relationships. He came, because of us, not despite us.

Darkness is not forever. The world was dark when Jesus came and He brought light and hope to it. Sometimes life feels like a darkness that will last forever, but it won’t. God brings us a word at the right time, maybe through the Bible, maybe through a song, or maybe through a friend. Let’s pause today and listen for that word, that promise and remember God’s word does not fail. He kept His promise and offers us salvation, restoring our broken relationship with Him, giving us hope for this life that we will be alright. Our circumstances might not be good, but God is good. And that is a promise I hold onto. Tightly. Merry Christmas and God Bless you – Nancy

Just Breathe

” Be still, and know that I am God”- Psalm 46:10- These words often remind me of my need to be still, to pause. To stop my anxious thoughts in their tracks, rest my mind and my soul and just be still.

Many exercise routines I’ve watched- notice I said watch- always remind the participant to remember to breathe. Why? It is because we get focused on what we are supposed to do, and forget to slow down and breathe. It is particularly important in exercise as it provides oxygen to the muscles so that they might perform better.

Of course we will all remember to breathe eventually, or we would pass out, but I admit I do need the reminder to stop and be more conscious of my breathing. But have you ever had life throw you an immense curve ball? Something that takes your literal breath away. I have recently with my Dad’s passing. I was blindsided by the news as I went about my daily routine. It was sudden. Instantaneous. Not expected. In a flash my Dad had died. Without a time for goodbyes. It took my breath away, and as I processed my sister in law phonically, I found my self struggling to catch my breath. But I knew just like with exercise, I needed someone to remind me to breathe, so I called my daughter and had her talk to me so I could remember to slow my breathing.

It has been about two months now, and I do at times get overwhelmed with my grief. In those times I repeat often to myself “just breathe, just breathe” and I can regain some sense of control. It isn’t always perfect, but I am taking one day at a time, moving forward slowly, taking breaks to just be still, to close my eyes and breathe. Letting God help with my sadness and grief, to comfort me in the moments I feel overwhelmed. May you find your rest today and be still. – God Bless, Nancy

A Loss For Words

It wasn’t the original destination, just an after thought. A last minute decision to take a turn through the open gates. But the after effects were overwhelming. I had not been to this cemetery before, but had only driven past. It wasn’t even near our home but about an hour’s drive away. What brought me here on this day was curiosity. My father has recently passed and my thoughts were turned to my own mortality and where my husband and I thought about being buried one day. My husband asked if I wanted to drive inside the brick walls surrounding the cemetery to check it out. I hesitated for a moment and said sure, we’re here and we have some time on the drive back home.

But, I wasn’t ready for the overwhelming display. I honestly was not prepared for the flood of tears that were triggered. As we entered through the gates, the view opened up and as far as I could see were the plain white markers. This was my very first time entering a national cemetery, the place in which veterans from the armed services, their spouses and even their children are buried. The winding drive meandered under the massive live oaks and perfectly manicured lawns. The headstones were precisely spaced as if the soldiers were still in marching formation. As we drove, more and more headstones appeared around each corner, lawns turned into large fields that looked as if they were growing and producing head stones as crops. We parked and got out of our car to inspect a few of the stones.

My first observation was that some stones were still blank, there’s simply no name on them. But then I turned around and looked at the stones behind me, and they had names. Then I realized the spouses names appeared on the back side of the veterans head stone, like an after thought. It bothered me. Yes, spouses are not military, but as a military spouse I can tell you we support the mission 100%. So, why the back side? Why not the front? I pondered the question for a while as I was overwhelmed with the scope of death I saw there. Hundreds of stones, all the same, all had served their country, all were laid to rest there. It was not the first time in a cemetery, but the first for me at a military cemetery.

We got back into our car and drove further to a shady spot under the trees and got out once again. This time the view was different, I saw blank stones, but many more with the children’s and spouses names. From this view, I could see the people behind the veterans the supporting people, the children, the wives, the husbands. From one side I could see the veteran’s names, ranks, and branch of service, but from the road I could see the spouses and children’s names. It was all about perspective. And now my perspective turned to the hundreds if not thousands of people buried at the cemetery.

My tears overwhelmed me and I found myself at a loss for words, just like those blank head stones. With no name on the back I wonder if they had anyone who would visit their grave. Anyone who cared for them. Did anyone even know they were buried there? I cried for myself and for losing my Dad that day, but I cried for all of the soldiers there and their families, the ones who had stood there, graveside as their loved one was buried. I felt their loss and my own. The tears comfort me and give my soul rest after I let them fall.

God Bless, Nancy

Grieving at Christmas

It was 6 a.m. when the call came. My husband was still asleep so I slipped into the bathroom to answer my phone so as to not disturb him. It was a call I had been expecting, but not on this morning. I turned the light on, shut the door and groggily said “hello”. It was Christmas morning. December 25. A day of celebration. A day of happy family time together. Of presents shared and food. But, it wasn’t a day to celebrate for me. My mom had just died. On Christmas morning.

While others would be waking up and anticipating the joy. My heart was broken. I decided to not tell our kids- teenagers at the time- until after they had opened their gifts and had their Christmas breakfast- a mixture of special sweets and candy, I didn’t want to steal their joy. To take away or diminish their day. Even though my joy was completely gone. I felt empty and helpless. And numb.

Usually I would be writing of the joy of Christmas, the hope found in a relationship with Jesus at this advent of Christmas. But I know that many of you are hurting this Christmas. Your joy is missing. You are going through the motions of celebrating Christmas, but you heart is just not in it. You are in pain. Your loved one is gone. And you miss them terribly. It is difficult to celebrate. The world is moving around you, but you are stuck in the place of grief.

I can tell you. It will get better. The hurt will fade a little. Memories that make you cry now, will make you laugh with joy. If not today then someday. When you have had time to heal. From your loss. You loved this person who is not with you now. So it is okay to miss them. Even when we know, in our minds at least, that they are better now, that they are celebrating Christmas in Heaven. It is still okay to miss them. It is okay to cry.

In my helpless moment on that Christmas now 8 years ago, I found one thing I could do. We packed into our mini van and drove to the beach. On the way out the door, I grabbed the bouquet of flowers off the table. I needed to do something. To not feel helpless. My parents lived several hours away, so I knew I would be making travel plans later. But there was nothing I could do today, on Christmas Day. But I needed to do something, something that I could feel control over. So, my drive to the ocean- about forty -five minutes, felt like the answer.

We rode in silence, my hands firmly gripping the flowers. We weren’t the only ones there. People were running, playing and celebrating. But I wasn’t. I had formed a plan on the drive. I would throw the flowers into the ocean and say a prayer. We each took a flower from the bouquet and tossed them into the water. We watch as the waves took them down the beach and some out into the ocean. It was my way to say goodbye to my mom. It gave me some control over my grief that day.

We also wrote out my mom’s name in the sand with her epitaph. Her dates of living. One person walked past and saw what we had written and softly said, “I’m sorry” That helped me that day. We have been making the same trip every Christmas since.

It has been a way to remember her. Remember the past year and reflect and pray. And that is the one thing I want to offer you today. It is okay to do something to remember your loved one at Christmas. Place a special ornament on your tree, Visit the ocean or another quiet place. Don’t be afraid to slow down from all the busyness of Christmas. Allow yourself some time to grieve. Grief is a journey. It is not a destination. There will be times, even years from now when you will find yourself crying. It is okay.

Pray. Often. Ask God for comfort. Ask God to send friends to comfort us. We need it. We don’t have to grieve alone. God does understand our grief; our pain. He became one of us. He hurt. He wept. But because He became a man, in Jesus, we can have this hope. The hope that we will see our loved one again. Through your tears, may you hold on tightly to this hope. It is the message of Christmas. Death robs us. Jesus comes to make it right. He came to defeat death. It is worth celebrating, even through our tears. God bless you – Nancy

Letting Go of The Past

The wooden posts were firmly embedded in the dirt. They were joined together by another beam of wood across the top of the posts. But the sign that should have hung to these posts was missing. The sign that should have been advertising the business to the traveler along the roadside. The car moved quickly past the barren sign post and on to the next view; the torn and tattered awning, now fallen in front of the door. The windows were dingy and the outline of a florescent sign “pizza” could be found through the dirty glass. I turned my head and saw another view across the street as a freshly painted building gave hope that there was still life in this town. It was a familiar town to visit as I had grown up here. But it had changed; I had changed.

I smirked a bit, not in a bad way, but just to acknowledge the irony of the situation. Death had brought me here on this trip and it was the death, or near death, of my hometown that I saw all around me. Someone once wrote that you can’t go back again and I now realize that they were right.

At least partially. YOU can go back, but it will never be the place you left. It always changes. Sometimes there is growth as a town expands and becomes a small city. But at other locations, like my hometown, there is death. The town once had a fundraiser to fix up the town park. Families were invited to purchase a brick that would form a pathway to the refurbished gazebo in the center of the park. Now, the bricks are faded, names on the bricks barely able to be read. There are weeds between the bricks and areas that have been heaved and shifted as the trees and their roots disturbed the once straight, smooth path.

I often consider finding our named brick and digging it out, now that we no longer live here. But, I never can seem to find it. The name must have faded too. And as we moved further away, the connections to the town faded as well. Until death brings us back.

This trip would be a trip to see family that remained in the town and to retrieve a small desk that preserved my memories of my Aunt who had passed away. This little desk had been a piece by her front door, that for as long as I could remember was always by her front door, even in her previous house, a house I often visited as a child. It kept things in order for me. And I guess having this little desk would keep a little piece of her, or at least a memory of her close to me. She had been an important and inspiring part of my childhood. She was a world traveler and a university professor. I loved visiting her classroom on campus and walking around this huge school. She would always send me postcards on her travels and bring back souvenirs for me from all these neat places. She inspired my own love of travel.

Since we were in town, we also learned of the death of a young man, that through marriage had been our niece’s husband. The calling hours would be when we were visiting, so we went. Once again death seemed to be all around this trip. The young man had lived in our town and many of the people he had grown up with; classmates and school teachers, were all there. Our old neighbors were there as well.

Just for a moment as we struck up conversations and reunited with our neighbors, our children’s teachers, and family there, the gap of time seemed to have disappeared. It was like we had time traveled. Some had changed, with more gray hair and more wrinkles than I had remembered, but they all recognized my husband and I. It was both reassuring, yet different. We were not a part of their town anymore; we had moved and moved on. But it was still nice to hold on to this piece of nostalgia of neighbors, friends, and community. The community that can be missing now that we live in a larger city.

But things change. No matter how much I want them to stay the same, everything seems to change. Businesses close, businesses are bought, names fade, memories fade, paint chips and fades on buildings, people we love pass away. And through it all, we must move on, moving forward.

Moving forward is not a bad thing if we realize the growth we can find in the process. The past is full of memories of people, places and events that have shaped us. They have made a difference in our life and of whom we have become. Life is a journey and our faith grows in the journey.

But what makes the most difference is how we let our circumstances affect us in this faith journey.There can be pain in the past, or joy that we can learn from. We will make mistakes as we travel on this journey of faith and growth, as we are not perfect people.

When I think about moving past the past, as growing in our faith, I think about the apostle Paul who said, “Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me.Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead” (Philippians 3:12-13, NIV).

So, even an Apostle, who wrote most of the New Testament, admitted his own need to keep pressing on past the past to grow in faith. Growing in his relationship with God. And he had quite a bit to move past, as a former persecutor of the church. He was himself responsible for the imprisonments and deaths of early church Christians, even women. On one of his rounding up of Christians,he met Jesus, and his life was forever changed. He would no longer attempt to stop a movement that he once considered blasphemous, but actually grow the church. His past was in the past, as Jesus called him to move forward into his new role as evangelist to the Gentiles.

And after several years of preaching the Gospel, he still realized he had more growth to go as he wrote to the church in Philippi to encourage them. He realized that his faith journey was not an instant perfection, there would be growth and a need to move forward. Straining forward as he writes, similar to a runner reaching out to the finish line of a race. He couldn’t stay attached to the past, whether to mull over all the terrible things he had done to Christians in the past, or to bask in his own accomplishments of planting churches and preaching. There was more to look forward to.

And as much as I would like the landmarks of my own hometown to remain untouched, so I can go back a visit with everything remaining intact, I know it is impossible. It makes me sad to see the death of the past, a past that brings happy memories, but I trust God has even more new memories that I can make. Someday, I too will be a part of someone’s memory. I hope I will affect others and point them to Christ so that they will will remember me. Maybe they will remember a desk by my front door. God bless you – Nancy