Oceans...

The ocean is my favorite place to be. It’s weird that I hardly ever go there, but just thinking about being there takes my breath away. I remember riding my bike through the Kalaloch campground with my sister, and we’d always stop at the top of the walkways down to the beach and just look. I remember closing my eyes and breathing deeply in, the salt water smells seeping into every pore of my body. I remember the goosebumps on my skin as I felt the wind and the warmth of the sun on my face. I remember tears sneaking down the corner of my eyes as I felt so so small in the presence of this magnificent, powerful scene. 

How ironic that in the moments that I’m struggling, I also picture the ocean, but it’s not like that in my mind. The moments when I’m having a hard time are the moments I’m drowning in the ocean. The waves swirling all around me. I kick hard with my feet and push through the black water with my hands. Trying desperately to reach the surface before I can no longer hold my breath and my lungs seer with the pain of sucking in salt water. The darkness envelops me and the panic sets in as I wonder if I can ever make it out of there alive. 

I. Keep. Going. Though. I love to swim. I’m a strong swimmer. I have always loved the water. In my darkest moments, when the water seems too much, I still drive to the beach and just sit and stare and think and breathe and listen. The water is calming. The water soothes my soul. And as turbulent as it can get when I’m fighting against it, I always return to the water. It’s cleansing. It’s calming. It is inviting and beckons me to forget the crazy that is going on around me. 

For a while after Brian died and so much came to the surface, I had this recurring dream. I was driving across this narrow road with water on both sides. I couldn’t slow down and the truck was barreling faster and faster. Eventually there was a corner and my truck would careen off the path and flip into the water. I would fly out of the truck, hit the water, and begin sinking down into the dark, murky water. I should have been afraid, but I wasn’t ever. Every time I would have this dream, I would allow myself to float downward. Sink lower and lower into the water. Down in the depths I would find absolute peace and happiness. Joy. I would be able to see clearly and breathe deeply. And I always had this feeling that everything was going to be alright. 

Psalm 89:9 says “You rule over the surging sea; when its waves mount up, you still them.”

God is in control always. He’s there when I’m sitting in my car at the beach watching the glass-like surface of the water in the calm. He’s there when I can’t stop the waves from pulling me under and I don’t know if I’ll ever find my footing. He is present in the water. He is whispering to me to be still and keep pressing forward. He is there, in all seasons, in all weather, in all circumstances. He is guiding me through the peaceful memories of my childhood and using the turbulent nightmares that pull me into the depths. In all circumstances, I will trust. 

Water is powerful, majestic, a force to be reckoned with.  But so is our Father. Like water, He will fill up your empty spaces and guide you where He wants you to go. We need only have faith. 

I’m not certain where my next steps of life may lead. I don’t have all the answers or know the plans He has for me always. But I know that He is as constant as the sea. I will have faith that all I need to do is turn my eyes towards Him and have faith. Trust that He is in charge. And keep visiting the beach as a reminder of His grace and power and beauty. 

Just keep swimming...

There Goes My Life...

Kenny Chesney is one of my favorite country artists. And one of my favorite songs that he sings is “There Goes My Life.” If you’ve never heard the song, it starts off about a guy who just found out his girlfriend is pregnant and he’s having a baby. His life is over. Ruined. Destroyed. As the song goes on he realizes what a little miracle his daughter is to him. At the end she is leaving to pursue her life and context of the phrase changes from “there goes my life” like it is destroyed to “there goes my life” like that girl is his everything and his life is getting in to that car. 

My situation, my tragedy, is fairly similar. When Brian killed himself and everything unraveled I remember standing often in one spot, feeling like life was swirling all around me and I couldn’t get my bearings. I didn’t know what I was going to do. How I was going to survive. How could I ever go on as a single mom to a three-year-old and a six-month-old. Was this some kind of cruel joke? This wasn’t the happily ever after I had envisioned that you can see beaming from the wedding day photo I have shared. 

August 5th, 2006 was the day that the Duncan family story began. Our wedding day. Filled with joy and anticipation and friends and family. It was magical. And then it was over in October 2010. Or so I thought. 

My emotions surrounding this date vary year to year. Some years it’s just another day. Some years, like this one for some reason, the pain of what could have been sears through my heart, taking my breath away and leaving me reeling in the swirling whirlwind that I so often had experienced. 

A few years ago I came to the realization that August 5th was the beginning of the Duncan family. It didn’t have to be my wedding day alone. And even though we are missing a member, it is still the anniversary of the Duncan family. So my girls and I spent the afternoon today on the docks by the water at the Boat Shed celebrating our family’s day. 

When we got home I went back to my bedroom, pulled my box of treasures off of the shelf in my closet and opened it. The first thing to greet me was the overalls that my grandma gave me that belonged to my grandfather. His birthday was August 2nd so he’s been on my mind a lot lately. I held them close and could still smell the memories of that most important man. So many times I wish he was still here. 

Underneath his overalls, was my box of wedding pictures. I pulled a few out and immediately the tears flooded to the surface. These pictures, freezing these moments in time, showed how it all started. How it was supposed to be. It was supposed to be forever. Til death do us part, right? I had no idea that date would come much sooner than I had planned. We were supposed to be a family of four. The family Brian and I created and planned for. The family that began August 5th, 2006. Some days I still don’t understand it all. 

Romans 8 is probably my all-time favorite chapter. And Romans 8:28 says “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” It didn’t feel good when Brian died. And it doesn’t feel good right now in this second looking at old pictures and thinking about the pieces he has missed, is missing, and will continue to miss. But, I can see God at work in our lives. He has made His Duncan family strong. We are not a family of four. And that is ok! We are a family of three girls. Three women, who are strong and faithful. We love our lives and try and live it to the fullest. We have seen and gone through trauma and heartache and tears and pain, but we are stronger because of Him. 

People say that time heals all wounds. I don’t know if I agree with that. Time doesn’t heal the wounds. Time give us seconds and minutes to see God’s love and grace and faithfulness heal our wounds. I put my faith in our Heavenly Father. Time gets you further away from the point of pain, but God is the one that takes the moments in between and uses those moments for His glory. 

My song has changed. The context has shifted. Thirteen years ago it was a “There goes my life, it’s over” moment. Today? It’s a “There goes my life, it’s just beginning” moment. We are stronger, more faithful, and ready for the next part of our adventure as the Duncan family. Happy 13th anniversary to us! Here’s to many more!