Paradox of Grief

I think we can all agree 2020 was a crazy year that just flew by. But great things still happened in 2020. For example, my wonderful sister got married, 💖 and I started a business making earrings and magnets out of polymer clay! (www.ellsworthcreations.etsy.com if you're interested. I'm also on FB and Intsagram!) I love it and am so excited about the creative outlet it has opened up.

But I come here now in grief. 2021 has already been a rollercoaster... and not just because of insane winter ice storms.

Back before Christmas, the Monday before to be exact, we got a very unexpected positive result on a pregnancy test. With much trepidation and excitement, we told our family and were slowly telling friends. Until January 8th when it was confirmed that I miscarried. This is the first some of my friends and family will hear about this.. and I wasn't even sure I was going to put it out there.. but there it is.. It was a blow and, to be honest, we are still recovering. But God is the great healer and I know his plan is so much better than we could imagine.

Beyond that.. last Thursday my Mom had to sign the papers to put my Grandpa into hospice.. He's been in a lot of pain and not eating much, if anything.

This morning, I got the call. He's no longer in any pain. My heart rejoices in that. But it also breaks because I won't get to see him again on this earth. I wish I'd talked to him more.. or at least texted and sent more pictures and videos of Eden. I keep wracking my brain as to why I didn't think to send a video... why I didn't just shoot him a text to tell him we loved him (which I know he knew.. but still... ya know)...

I take solace that he is with God, and Grandma, and that he does know how much we loved him. Even though we - I - didn't say it more. And he gets to be with our would've been August baby, along with Grandpa and Grandma Hunter. I'll see them all in paradise.

So in this paradox of grief I'm in, being sad and joyful simultaneously, I fix my eyes upon Christ and trust in Him to heal my wounds.

I leave you with the words from Even If by Mercy Me:

They say sometimes you win some

Sometimes you lose some

And right now, right now I'm losing bad

I've stood on this stage night after night

Reminding the broken it'll be alright

But right now, oh right now I just can't

It's easy to sing

When there's nothing to bring me down

But what will I say

When I'm held to the flame

Like I am right now

I know You're able and I know You can

Save through the fire with Your mighty hand

But even if You don't

My hope is You alone

They say it only takes a little faith

To move a mountain

Good thing

A little faith is all I have right now

But God, when You choose

To leave mountains unmovable

Give me the strength to be able to sing

It is well with my soul

I know You're able and I know You can

Save through the fire with Your mighty hand

But even if You don't

My hope is You alone

I know the sorrow, and I know the hurt

Would all go away if You'd just say the word

But even if You don't

My hope is You alone

You've been faithful, You've been good

All of my days

Jesus, I will cling to You

Come what may

'Cause I know You're able

I know You can

I know You're able and I know You can

Save through the fire with Your mighty hand

But even if You don't

My hope is You alone

I know the sorrow, and I know the hurt

Would all go away if You'd just say the word

But even if You don't

My hope is You alone

My hope is you alone

It is well with my soul

It is well, it is well with my soul

To the Bride and the Groom...

Over a month ago (August 2nd) I was the Matron of Honor at my sister, Meredith's, wedding. She was gorgeous. I teared up... a lot. Nonetheless, I am over the moon happy for her and Joseph. Being the Matron of Honor, I had the pleasure of making a speech during their reception. To make sure we always have it, I thought I would post it here. Granted, it didn't come out EXACTLY like this, but it's mostly the same.

So, to the bride and the groom: I love you both so much. 💗

     Good evening, everyone! Thank you all for coming to celebrate the union of Joseph and Meredith. Thank you to Neal and Melanie and Paul and Julie for both raising wonderful people and making the vision of this day that they had come true. And a thank you for all of those who helped decorate and make this event the best it could be.

     For those who may not know, my name is Elisabeth and I’m Meredith’s big sister.

     I was 5 when she was born and only slightly disappointed that she wasn’t immediately the playmate I had envisioned. When she was old enough, we had many a good time building massive forts in our room or the living room, watching movies together (sometimes on repeat), decorating the Christmas Tree, pretending we were mermaids in the pool, and telling our own stories with Barbies. Though when I became an angsty teen, there was more of an Anna and Elsa feel in the summers… Meredith would knock on my door, most of the time with a towel in hand, and ask if I wanted to go swimming. Most of the time she was met with a resounding “No” from underneath the covers.

     But that is Meredith. Bold, persistent, and extroverted. Unafraid to speak her mind and irritated that a lot of times she had to help her shy older sister find the restroom. Even though our personalities are practically polar opposites, I am insanely proud to call her my sister. Watching her grow into the beautiful woman she has become has been one of my greatest joys.

     Despite growing up in close proximity at Saturn Road, Meredith and Joseph didn’t get to know each other until the summer before her last year at Harding while she was a Children’s Ministry intern. I knew he was the one for Meredith when she told me how he was determined to spend every weekend possible with her once she was back at Harding and that he called her almost every night. His persistence rivaled even hers. He was sweet and thoughtful. He put together some of her furniture for her room and was always looking for ways to help her and spend time with her.

     Joseph makes Meredith more confident. He lends her his strength when she needs it. He is kind and compassionate. He is fantastic with kids. He loves deeply. He is honorable. He is gentle. He loves God and he loves my sister with all of his heart. While I, regretfully, don’t have many memories with Joseph, I know that we have many great memories ahead of us. I couldn’t ask for a better brother-in-law.

     Meredith and Joseph, I love you both and wish you martial bliss. I can tell you from personal experience that not every moment will feel happily ever after. But if you keep God first, keep your eyes focused on him, and lean only on him to fulfill all your needs, the two of you can overcome any obstacle.

     Here is to the new Mr. and Mrs. Burnam! May your love for each other grow more and more every day.

~

Also, my baby girl was a flower girl and was just too cute!! 😍😍

Follow Your Passion

Finding your passion can be hard. As much as I want to say that I was always told to follow my passion as a kid, that wasn't the case. I'm an artsy person so I liked singing and acting and photography and painting. When I was in high school and trying to figure out a career I would be interested in pursuing, it became hard to nail down. I thought about all of the things I was interested in, but the message I seemed to be getting was "Those career paths aren't going to make you any money. Pick something else."

I recently passed by the local seasonal garden shop and I wondered how they decided that's what they wanted to do. It got me thinking about my sister in law when she was in high school. Where she grew up, she had a chance to go to a vocational school for her junior and senior year. When she thought about what she would pursue there, she contemplated being a gardener. I remember so clearly that her family, much like my own, steered her away from that passion questioning what she would do with that kind of degree. In the end, she followed her passion in baking and she became a chef. I am very proud of her decision to be a chef as she seems to really love it.

This all leads to the question of how does one find and actually pursue their passion? I still haven't really found that one thing that I love. I still love writing and I love painting and I love singing, and I like taking pictures. Still I don't see a career in any of those things for me. (I still love my job as the Office Manager at Riverside. I wouldn't change it for the world.)

Part of me wonders what my life would have turned out like if I had been encouraged to follow any of my passions despite how much that career would make me. Would I have pursued more roles in the plays at school? Would I have tried for a music major or a theater major? Would I have pursued a communications major when I found that I really enjoyed my speech class? Would the difference in classed made me enjoy college more and made me stay? What would I be doing with my life now? Would I have found my niche? Would I have found the thing that really makes me think, "THIS! This is where I belong and what I was always meant to do!" Would I still struggle with "creative stir craziness"?

In no way am I discontent with my life now. I know God lead me here and here is where I am meant to be. And as I said before, I LOVE my job. I don't know of any other job I would want. (Other than one day being a mother, of course.) I just wonder sometimes.

I hope that you will follow your passion no matter what it is or where it leads. I hope that you will find your strengths and lean on them, see where they take you. I hope that you will not let the fear of needing a career that makes a lot of money take you away from pursuing what you love. God will always provide what you need when you need it. Don't be afraid to pursue your passion.

Find what you love and, most of the time, your job won't seem like work.

Never stop dreaming,

Elisabeth

Am I Enough?

Recently I watched a video on RightNow Media called "Am I Enough?" It showed three women in different stages of life wondering if they were enough. We all ask that question, don't we? We go throughout our day wondering if we are good enough, strong enough, pretty enough, enough for our husband, our kids, our jobs. We even wonder if we are spiritual enough.

The video ended with a man's voice reading verses such as, "I am the way the truth and the life." - John 14:6 "[I] am near to all who call upon my name." - Psalm 145:18 "[My] mercies are new every morning." - Lamentations 3:22-23 "[My] love never fails." - 1 Corinthians 13:4-8

Then the voice asks, "Am I enough?"

That struck me. God should be enough for me. Why am I not living that way? He is my father, my Lord, my savior. He loves me more than I could ever imagine. He died for me while I was still a sinner. He says I am more than enough.

Why do I doubt Him? Why do I still wonder if I am enough? Why am I not trusting fully what He says?

You are enough. You are loved. Continually choose to trust what your Father says about you. You are His heir and He chose you! How could we ever doubt that we are enough when the creator of all the universe looks upon us with such love and joy?

Perhaps we just forget. Let this be a reminder. Let us remember that we are more than enough because we were chosen by God! Let's put it on our ceiling above our bed so it is the first thing we see in the morning. Then we will never have to ask "am I enough" ever again!

The Battlefeild

Last Friday I had a friend pray over me. She and I have been talking for a while about the struggles of life and the spiritual battlefield. She told me her story and she is helping me grow and understand more.

This weekend Tanner and I went on the youth group Beach Retreat. On our way there I was sitting there thinking and, for some reason, my mind wandered back to elementary school. I had this insane realization.

I was baptized just after I turned 8. I remember talking to my parents about it on the way to Eureka Springs, Arkansas and them offering to pull over and find some water right then. I remember telling them that I could wait until we attended church that Sunday (which ever one we decided to attend in Arkansas). I remember that day being so excited, not realizing when the invitation song was sung, and thus being very distraught when service was over. I remember my dad explaining it to me and going forward to the preacher anyway so that I could. I remember the smile on my face and my dad's strong and stead hand on my back. I remember my feet coming off the ground a little and how I mentally freaked out a little while I was under the water, scared I was going to fall. I remember all the hugs and the older ladies asking if I would like to partake in the Lord's Supper, them bringing it to me. I remember the love and the joy on that day.

Little did I know, I stepped prominently onto battlefield at the moment I came up from the water.

In the fall, I started 3rd grade at a new school. I sat by a girl who talked to me and became a friend. Unbeknownst to me, Satan would use that friendship against me. That year and the two after (3rd - 5th) were filled with torment. I was bullied and torn down. My grandpa got sick and died and I felt guilty that the last time I was at his house I threw up on his floor. And when I was sad because he was sick and I told my friend, she tried to one up me saying that she had bruises on her bottom from being whipped. I learned to keep my mouth shut because it felt like no one cared.

I left Elementary School wounded, scared, and guarded.

Time after time Satan used my friends to wound and scar me. I built up walls to guard my heart, determined to not get hurt again, yet desperately desired for someone to break past them and take care of my heart. I became shy, broken, and reserved.

I didn't realize that those walls would hinder my relationship with my mom, my dad, my sister, and ultimately my heavenly Father. 14 years later I am still battling those walls and the fear that came with those wounds. I struggle with letting people in. It is only by God's power that my wonderful husband, Tanner, made it past those walls.

This realization made my jaw drop and my eyes widen. For the first time, I saw the battlefield. I had this thought of wishing someone had taught me how to put on the armor of God instead of just about it.

So, this weekend I opened myself to God. I wanted to break the walls down, but I knew I needed his help. I knew it would only be through Him that I would find healing. During our time of silence the first day I mentally said, "Here I am, Lord. Use me."

That night, the speaker, Mark, invited us to once again take a breath and just listen. Again, I said mentally, "Here I am, Lord. Use me." I was sitting there just listening when I heard a not quite audible voice, but it was distinctly, "You are beautiful, my child." Tears shot to my eyes and I reeled mentally for a moment. Had I really heard something? Did I just make it up? But I remembered my friends story and how she had heard something before too. So, I accepted it, blinking back tears.

When Mark started talking, he showed pictures of a groom seeing his bride for the first time on their wedding day. He made the point that this is how God sees us. He is our groom and we are so beautiful to him. Of course, I started crying because it was so beautiful. (Though when he first started showing the pictures I had a brief moment of wishing I had the picture I thought I was getting of Tanner seeing me. And then I remembered what my mom had described and an image came into my head and I was really happy. Note: I couldn't see the whole way down the aisle due to my contacts.)

When Mark stopped talking, there was a silence to let everything soak in. So, I sat, lifted my head up to the sky, and once again said, "Here I am, Lord. Send me." I didn't hear anything and so I just went into praise. "You are my God. You are my Savior, the Lover of my soul." In the middle of a praise, I was cut off. "I am here. I have always been here. Seek and you will find." Then I felt something. It was like arms were wrapped around me, but not just my body, my heart. I felt free and joyful. Tears streamed down my face. God was with me. He was here and he wasn't going to leave me. I wanted to hug anyone who got near even if I didn't know them (I didn't).

I also got this image in my head. At first I was kneeling down at His throne in Sparta like warrior garb. But then, it was like He lifted me up and I was as His side dressed in a white Grecian style dress with the floor-length style skirt, it was sleeveless but had thick, tank-top like, graceful sleeves. The top was silver in that it was like armor. I had on the classic tall, Roman, sandals. It was beautiful. I was not just a warrior, but a warrior princess.

I got to talk to Tanner about it and he said something along the lines of that God was showing me that He had been with me all along, through all of the hurt. Tanner held me as I cried some more, grieving the time I spent breaking God's heart in my search for healing as I built my walls, distancing myself and then wondering where He was.

Every morning, now, I try to make time to pray and listen. I make sure to arm myself, and every time I pray on the armor of God I see that image I did Saturday night, the warrior princess.

I pray that you will find peace in Him and that you will find your healing in Him. For God is with you and no one can be against you. God has already won the war.