Two weeks ago today my Pa went home to be with Jesus...
You'd think after two weeks it would have gotten easier, but it hasn't. If anything, it's harder. I miss him so much more. I miss my family so much more! I know Pa will want me to move on and be happy, and there are moments when I am very happy, but there are also moments when I am sad. I'm starting to have more happy/content moments, but I'm still sad. I also feel like I haven't had time to be sad. I haven't had time to cry, to weep. I feel like I've been shoved back into school and work and being social and I just want time to be sad. So, that's what I'm doing right now. I'm being sad.....On a Saturday night I sit in my room, crying...
I know these tears will turn to laughing one day and this sadness will turn into joy. That is what I'm clinging to.
That is my only HOPE!
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Friday, January 13, 2012
Contentment
As I sat on my couch watching Sweet Home Alabama cuddled up in my blanket tonight, I felt a feeling I have never felt before. It was a feeling that was happy and peaceful. I didn't find myself longing to be anywhere else. I didn't find myself longing to be with anyone else. And I didn't find myself longing to be doing anything else.
I'll just be honest, usually I am wanting to be with a boy. Any boy. Most of the time it's a man with the qualities I have always dreamed of, but sometimes it's anyone. Sometimes I decide to settle. Sometimes I decide to compromise every dream I have ever had just to be with someone, anyone. Sometimes, I'm beyond desperate.
But tonight wasn't like that.
I felt at peace with where I was.
I felt happy.
I felt content.
If I have learned anything over these last couple of weeks while watching my Pa die and seeing the impact he had on so many people it's this: I HAVE to live my life for Jesus and Him alone. He is first and then everything else will fall into place.
For so long I have preached those words to so many people. I've told them to myself so many times as well, but never really got it. I never really grabbed hold of what that really meant until now. I GET IT!!!
Living a life that matters means living in contentment. It's not becoming apathetic or stagnant, but being content with where you are, what you have, and who you're with; and using all those things to glorify Jesus and be a light in the darkness. It's keeping your integrity and using every opportunity you have to bring glory to the name of Jesus!
I don't know where this contentment came from, but I'm thankful it did.
I'll just be honest, usually I am wanting to be with a boy. Any boy. Most of the time it's a man with the qualities I have always dreamed of, but sometimes it's anyone. Sometimes I decide to settle. Sometimes I decide to compromise every dream I have ever had just to be with someone, anyone. Sometimes, I'm beyond desperate.
But tonight wasn't like that.
I felt at peace with where I was.
I felt happy.
I felt content.
If I have learned anything over these last couple of weeks while watching my Pa die and seeing the impact he had on so many people it's this: I HAVE to live my life for Jesus and Him alone. He is first and then everything else will fall into place.
For so long I have preached those words to so many people. I've told them to myself so many times as well, but never really got it. I never really grabbed hold of what that really meant until now. I GET IT!!!
Living a life that matters means living in contentment. It's not becoming apathetic or stagnant, but being content with where you are, what you have, and who you're with; and using all those things to glorify Jesus and be a light in the darkness. It's keeping your integrity and using every opportunity you have to bring glory to the name of Jesus!
Thursday, January 12, 2012
The Preacher Won't Have to Lie by Paul O'Rear
This is the article the preacher of my Great-Grandmother and Aunt's church wrote after attending my Pa's funeral on Tuesday.
"I attended the funeral of Bob Pearson in Waco on Tuesday. Bob was the son of Bernice Pearson and the brother of Delores Pearson. My heart aches for these two wonderful Christian ladies, and for the rest of Bob’s family, in their tremendous loss.
As I sat there listening to three different men talk about Bob — the kind of family man and friend and church leader and business man that he was — I found myself thinking, “I sure would like to have known Bob.” It was obvious from the heartfelt comments made at the funeral, and from the number of people in attendance, that Bob Pearson was a good man, a godly man, a man who made a positive difference in the lives of those who knew him.
Funerals can be funny things. (Not funny as in “ha ha”, obviously, but rather funny as in odd or interesting.) The meanest scoundrel is often made out to be a beneficent humanitarian at his funeral. Preachers feel obligated to say something nice about the deceased at his funeral, even if they have to dig deep and look hard to find it. That's just the nature of funerals.
There’s an old Lee Ann Womack song entitled, “The Preacher Won’t Have to Lie”. The chorus says, “The choices you make, the chances you take, they'll follow you all of your life. I'm just tryin' to live so when I die, the preacher won't have to lie.”
The preacher didn’t have to lie at Bob Pearson’s funeral on Wednesday. I hope that you and I can live our lives in such a way that the preacher won’t have to lie at our funerals, either."
"I attended the funeral of Bob Pearson in Waco on Tuesday. Bob was the son of Bernice Pearson and the brother of Delores Pearson. My heart aches for these two wonderful Christian ladies, and for the rest of Bob’s family, in their tremendous loss.
As I sat there listening to three different men talk about Bob — the kind of family man and friend and church leader and business man that he was — I found myself thinking, “I sure would like to have known Bob.” It was obvious from the heartfelt comments made at the funeral, and from the number of people in attendance, that Bob Pearson was a good man, a godly man, a man who made a positive difference in the lives of those who knew him.
Funerals can be funny things. (Not funny as in “ha ha”, obviously, but rather funny as in odd or interesting.) The meanest scoundrel is often made out to be a beneficent humanitarian at his funeral. Preachers feel obligated to say something nice about the deceased at his funeral, even if they have to dig deep and look hard to find it. That's just the nature of funerals.
There’s an old Lee Ann Womack song entitled, “The Preacher Won’t Have to Lie”. The chorus says, “The choices you make, the chances you take, they'll follow you all of your life. I'm just tryin' to live so when I die, the preacher won't have to lie.”
The preacher didn’t have to lie at Bob Pearson’s funeral on Wednesday. I hope that you and I can live our lives in such a way that the preacher won’t have to lie at our funerals, either."
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
15 Days of Sorrow....
"A time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;" Ecclesiastes 3: 3-4
December 27, 2011 was a time of weeping.
January 7, 2012 started a time of mourning.
The promise I cling to is after the weeping there is laughter. And after the mourning there is dancing.
I love to laugh.
I'm a terrible dancer, but I love to dance.
December 27, 2011 was a time of weeping.
January 7, 2012 started a time of mourning.
The promise I cling to is after the weeping there is laughter. And after the mourning there is dancing.
I love to laugh.
I'm a terrible dancer, but I love to dance.
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