Wednesday, February 25, 2009


"The quality of life is in proportion, always, to the capacity for delight. The capacity for delight is in the gift of paying attention."
~Julia Cameron

Honestly, this is a word and a concept that has been fairly foreign to me over the past few months. I haven't been able to find much delight in the world around me. Some days I haven't been able to do much more than get up, get dressed and go to work.
I was reading a post on a friend's Facebook page about his father. His father is very sick and literally has days, if that, to live. He wrote about the sweetness and the delight in having this time to spend with his father and his family, and ultimately, to say goodbye to his dad.
I was impressed with his capacity to delight in those moments. He wrote the quote from above on his page and it struck me right between the eyes. And right into my heart.

I have not delighted in much since my sister died. It's not that I'm sad all the time. I am sad, but it doesn't necessarily manifest in the way that I would have it. Sadness to me has always been a matter of moments. Something happens, or something is said, and it causes me sadness. So I cry and I feel it, and then it passes. Sometimes it takes a few days, or even weeks, but it passes. The sadness that I have experienced from losing my sister is like a black hole in the middle of the world. I don't understand sometimes how the rest of the world can just go on functioning. It shouldn't be that easy to do. It feels like this couldn't possibly have just happened to me or to the ones who love her. I have trouble making sense of the fact that it isn't happening to those around me. And that when my world stops turning and I need to stop, they should all stop, too. But they don't...

I miss feeling light. I miss feeling carefree. I miss delighting in something or someone so much that you just walk around with a stupid smile on your face without even knowing.

I hope it returns soon...

I have been told by my incredible counselor and by others who have experienced loss, that it will. That it might take months, even years. But it will return. I long for that day, when I wake up and maybe roll over in bed to look out the window, and immediately begin to delight in God for the morning sunshine, or a bird's sweet song to lull me from my bed. I miss joy... I miss the lightness of daily matters, like what kind of coffee to order at Starbuck's, or which new shoes will match my sweater the very best. I miss laughing with friends so hard that you feel like you can't breathe!

Thank you, Jesus, for meeting me every morning with arms open wide. Thank You for friends and loved ones who have not stopped asking how my heart is doing, and who have continued to lift up prayers for me and for my family. Thank You for the sweet, precious moments when You have filled the void in my heart to remind me that the hurt will subside. Thank you for reminding me daily, that I can't possibly fill the hole in her children's lives that Leanne has left. That's Your job! Thank You for not requiring me to delight in You when I cannot, but for allowing me to be held and carried anyway.

You are my sustainer, my healer and the love of my life!
I'm so grateful to be Yours...

PS-And thank you for tissues with lotion!