The Roller Coaster that is Mike

As I read over the previous posts, I am not really sure who wrote them. Not because they are so profound and wonderful, but because they are so palpable and visceral.

I have realized that it will take many of us to be "Mike" to each other. I am part of Mike, Mom and Dad are part of Mike, Laura and Hunter are part of Mike and so on. Each one of us holds a very special seat on the roller coaster ride with him. Sometimes we have been up front with him with our hands in the air, and roars of laughter. Other times, we have been way in the back, eyes closed, with a white-knuckle grip on the hand rails holding on for dear life. Yet other times have been bumpy, jerky rides that left us bruised and worn. As I think about this it brings revelation to the fact that this is how we are supposed to be Christ's representative. Not one of us can be Christ but we are all a part of his roller coaster ride. He never promised us an easy ride but collectively we can be the body of Christ on this earth, be there for each other. So everyone reading this has a new assignment in life, you have to continue on the Mike roller coaster ride with us. You have had a seat at some point. Continue to join us whether you want to sit up front with your hands in the air or sit in the back with your eyes closed and screaming. No matter what, it's ok. And you know what else? God wants you on His ride. He needs each one of us some where in one of those seats and puts us where he needs us, provided we climb aboard. Here is your invitation.

Do you think I say these things because I have wisdom or a poetic heart? No. I have a broken heart and broken spirit. Words can hurt and words can heal. I want to heal. I painfully hurt. I hope and pray my words offer healing and that the Holy Spirit speaks to you through them.
Love,
Rhonda

Random thoughts

Real- being or occurring in fact or actuality, having verifiable existence; true and actual, not imaginary, alleged, or ideal.

Reality- the quality or state of being actual or true.

Driving and crying.

Why is that the world does not allow us to be real? Why do we have to be ideal? My reality is the following; I have gained 5 lbs in a month. I do not sleep well. Food has no taste. My body hurts. I do not feel like smiling. I cry like a little girl. I love my family more than ever. My husband is a true gift from God. I am terrified of all of this interfering with my job. If I hold my feelings in then I am not real. I can't always express myself. There is a time and a place. But do people reallly want to hear or know? I don't know. I don't care if they do or not.

My car has become a refuge. It is a place to let my tears go and talk to God. I turn my radio up to drown out my thoughts and reset my brain. It is amazing at how many people are on the road. Is anyone experiencing the same thing? Is anyone else hurting? The brokeness of this world tells me yes. Yet we go on while one person is driving and crying.

I have been careful not to speak for the rest of my family. We are all dealing with this on our own individual terms, yet feeling the same loss. As Grandaddy put it, we are in the huddle. We all have different positions on this team. What are we going to do without Mike? We get our game plan and go out to face the world. I just don't know which side we are on, the winners or the losers. Is it possible to be on both at the same time? Either way, continue saying prayers and cheers for the hometeam. We feel it and need it.
Love to you all,
Rhonda

Friends

I have so many new close personal friends just waiting to help me. Tears readily stand by and can flow at a dog food commercial. Anger holds my hand and helps me throw something. Sadness smothers me and makes me moan and sigh. Pain does the same thing. Laughter attempts to help me as does my husband telling a joke but they both get slighted by the moan and sigh of sadness and pain. Exhaustion is a prevalent friend accompanied by brief moments of energy that makes me tackle a small pile in the house. Then I am worn out for the rest of the day. Numbness seems to be close friends with exhaustion. I think it tries to protect me from everything else. Hurt reveals itself as the numbness steps away and sadness and pain return. I keep reading that I have to be friends with all of them in order to grieve. I really don’t want to be friends with any of them. How can I embrace grief when I can’t stand its touch?

I believe in the revelation of Jesus’ resurrection, “O death where is thy sting?” We were never meant to feel this sting of death, smell this stink of death, embrace the friends of death. Not until we became a broken world that could only be healed by Jesus’ blood. I can’t wait until the sting, stench, and friends of death are no more. But I have to embrace them to heal. This is where anger rears its head and pain cuts to the core.

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our afflictions so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.
2 Corinthians 1:3-4

I believe God allows us to be selfish during a time of grief so that we really feel and know our loss and really feel and know His love. However, I received an email from a dear cousin about how she has just been putting one foot in front of the other to get through the day, the same way I have been, and it hit me. I think I have said "I'm sorry" to Mom, Dad, and Laura, but I don't know that I have actually said it to the hundreds, if not thousands, that are mourning Mike.

I know no one thinks badly of me or anyone else as selfish in our grief. It is expected and ok to mourn our individual loss. But I know what the out-pouring of love and support has felt like to me. So to all of you reading this, thank you for loving Mike. I KNOW HOW BIG THAT MIKE-SIZE HOLE IS IN YOUR HEART. And I just want to say, I am so very, deeply, heart-felt sorry for YOUR loss.
Please read the above verse, again.
Love,
Rhonda

There is no wind in my sail, today. So I will paddle.
Paddling is a lot harder but it will eventually get me where I am supposed to go.

That is true Mike Watson inspiration.

Rhonda

I have been paralyzed by the thought of moving…moving on without him.

Planting a garden means I do so without sharing it with him.

Loving and giving to anyone else without being able to love and give to him. Loving and giving to anyone else means the chance to lose and hurt.

Getting out and having fun, riding a bicycle, hiking, or seeing friends without being able to tell him about it.

Moving on acknowledges that April 10 really happened.

Moving on means grief, pain, and overwhelming emotion.

Moving on to experience all the “firsts” without him in the world.

Moving on past the last time I touched him. I will never feel that again while I am here.

If I am paralyzed why do I feel so much? I feel pain, heartbreak, hurt, sad, anger. Yet at the same time I feel numb. I am not really here. This is not really happening.

If I do not allow myself the chance to feel then I do not move on. If I move on I do it without him. I have been paralyzed.


Grief is one of life's paradoxes'. You have to feel the pain to feel healing. I don't really expect to understand it this side of heaven.