When I was writing my 2023 highlights post yesterday, I realized I never posted about one of my move favorite memories of 2023. On March 4, 2023, we celebrated my parents' 50th wedding anniversary!
They were married on Sunday afternoon, March 4, 1973 at Zebulon United Methodist Church in Zebulon, Georgia. Mama always says that's the only day of the year that's a command. March forth. My brother and I wanted to honor them and their marriage so we planned a surprise dinner party for them. Well, it was as much of a surprise as we could possibly make it. They knew "something" was going on, but they didn't exactly know what or where.
We had it at the Opry House in Hollonville. It's just down the road from their house. When I was growing up, it was an old abandoned barn until they fixed it up a bit and turned it into an event space for bluegrass, country and gospel music groups and weekend concerts. Now it's solely an event venue, and it was absolutely perfect for our little dinner party. I wanted it to be a beautiful and elegant event but on a budget. Once everything was done, it really exceeded my expectations.
Cindy did all the flowers for us. Mama used a lot of blush pink in her wedding flowers so that's what we did, too. Of course, it was all so beautiful and perfect!
Thanks to my sister-in-law we were able to display some of their wedding pictures, wedding book and my mama's wedding portrait.
When we were planning this, I asked my brother if he would say the blessing. He's not really one to get up and talk in front of people so I told him that we could ask their pastor, but I really wanted him to do it. I also told him that I was going to welcome everyone and say a little something before he prayed. So he wanted to know what I was going to say. We were several weeks out at that point, and I had no idea what I was going to say. I told him that I didn't plan on writing anything out, and I probably wouldn't know until I actually started talking. At that point, I think he started getting nervous. He told me he couldn't do that. I kept telling him he didn't have to. If you know my brother, you know that we are very different in that regard. I don't have any trouble talking. I'll talk to anybody. I'll talk to myself. I'll talk to a tree. But you know what the problem with that is? People don't listen. They're so used to you talking that they just tune you out! It's like, "Here she goes again."
So I ended up giving part of my "marriage talk." Marriage was created by God. It was His idea. And He has the very best plan for marriage. But marriage is not easy. It is hard. It requires selflessness, patience, humility and submission. I don't know about you, but none of those things are my natural bent. I am so grateful for the example of my parents' marriage. I'm sure they'd agree that it hasn't always been easy. If you were to ask them how they made it to March 4, 2023, I'm certain they would say that it's God's grace that held them together for over 50 years.
And then it was time for my brother to pray. But he didn't just pray. He laid down the Word like I've never heard him do before! He started in Genesis, and I'm pretty sure he had some of Revelation in there, too. And you know what happened? People started listening! Because Rob is the kind of person that when he starts talking, you listen. Jennifer said it best afterwards. "Well, I have no idea what you said. But when Rob started talking, I was like let me listen to this! I've never heard him talk that much before. I even had tears in my eyes."
It was funny . . . he had asked me if there was a lecture or music stand at the Opry House. There wasn't. So he went to his church and swiped the pastor's (without asking!) so he would have something to put his Bible and notes on.
One of the best things we did was have a photographer take pictures for us. We've never had family photos made with all of us together, and I am so glad we have these.
Usually I look back over the previous year and detail that year's number of memorable events in the life of our family. So for 2023, it would be 23. But 2023 was more than just memorable. It was EPIC. That's not a word I use a lot or lightly because it carries a lot of weight and expectation. It stretches the boundaries of memorable. That's what 2023 was. Our family experienced some very significant life events, the likes of which impacted us deeply. Besides our wedding day and perhaps moving states or building a house, the years of greatest change were the ones in which we welcomed Mason, Hannah Kate and Ellie. But you know what? Nothing prepares you for the day when one of those moves into adulthood and takes the first steps away from your home. There are some day, many days, that it still seems impossible that this has happened. There is a sense of emptiness that has gotten better, but I'm not sure it will ever completely go away. I don't have 23 for 2023. I have only twelve, but some of those are so big that I don't need 23!
1. It's so appropriate that this should be number one! The year was off to a super fun start as my team won the Natty. Again. As in two years in a row!
2. Hannah Kate has been dancing now for almost 13 years. She made it her goal a few years ago to earn her pointe shoes, and she worked really hard and did just that. Last year the studio started Ballet Company, a competition team for ballet only, and she was invited to be one of the dancers for their inaugural year. She was very hesitant to accept the honor. It required her to step out of her comfort zone a lot. And, if you know Hannah Kate, you know she much prefers the coziness of her comfort zone and doesn't venture outside it very much. But, ultimately, she did. It required extra lessons and auditions and culminated with her performing her solo at the Youth America Grand Prix competition in Dallas. She did very well, and it was a delight seeing her on that stage. As a matter of fact, she loved it so much that she auditioned for Ballet Company again this year, and she will be competing in both Dallas and Houston next month.
3. We made a quick trip to Georgia in March to celebrate my parents' 50th wedding anniversary. My brother and I hosted a dinner party for them and invited our family and some of their closest friends. It was the most fun planning it for them, but the best part was watching them walk into the room and enjoy an evening just for them.
I've heard it said that watching your children is like your heart walking around outside of you. If that's the case, watching your child walk away to his new home away from home is like your heart being ripped out of your chest. I spent days, weeks and months dreading that day. Part of me thought, "It's going to be bad. Really bad. But because I think it's going to be really bad, maybe it won't be quite that bad." As 2023 dawned in January, I felt like I was on a speeding train. As we sped closer and closer to graduation, I felt like I was going to fall off at any moment. By the time August came around, the train was absolutely out of control, and I was literally holding my breath waiting on it to crash. Well, it crashed, and it crashed hard. The drive back home that day was most definitely the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. I wasn't worried about Mason. I was totally convinced that he was ready and that he would be absolutely fine. I was excited for him. So excited! But this excitement coexisted with deep sadness. I was sad for us, for me, Seth, Hannah Kate and Ellie. The house seemed so empty without him. His chair was empty every night at the supper table. His room was empty. His seat in the truck was empty. We became a "table for 4."
It's been a minute. A hot minute. Months. A couple of years even.
Silence.
There are a lot of reasons for that. It all started when the kids returned to a more traditional school setting, and I went back to work. My days begin early, and I usually don't get home until late. In between is carpool lines, traffic, work, meal planning and preparing meals, church and a thousand other things that add up to very full days.
I first started this blog for my parents. It seemed the easiest way across 500 miles for them to watch Mason grow and keep up with his milestones and adventures. Then came Hannah Kate. Although I was still blogging for my parents, I was also blogging for my children. I wanted them to have not only pictures but words to look back on that documented their lives and the life of our family, something they could one day share with their future spouses and children. It was for me, too. I wanted them to know and understand their story, our story. I wanted to remember the days and details, the extraordinary and the mundane.
I love putting words on a page. I once had a dream to write and publish a book. I'm not sure why. It's not like anyone would read it. I've missed writing. Earlier today I was looking back through my planners and journals from the last couple of years. There are so many common themes, one of which is to write more. But I haven't.
Silence.
It's not because of a lack of words or nothing to say. I don't typically have that problem. But writing has to be real and honest and from the heart. The problem became that real and honest and heart-felt words had come to the point that they were raw. And I couldn't do that.
It was easy to hide. I had some really good excuses. The one I hid behind the most was Mason's senior year. But what do you do when it's not his senior year anymore? You move on to the next one. For me it was Mason moving to Ruston to begin his freshman year at LA Tech. Then what do you do when there really aren't anymore excuses?
By the time September of this year rolled around, I'd been battling a constant state of depression for about 18 months. It originally started after Hannah Kate was born. By the time she was six months old, I had to reach out to my doctor for help. I tried to pray my way out of it. I tried to Bible study my way out of it. I tried to live in a constant state of gratitude my way out of it. My doctor helped me understand a bit of how the brain functions and the chemicals in our brain. So for the next eight months, I took medicine to balance the chemicals in my brain. I was then able to come off the medicine. My doctor watched me very closely after Ellie was born. We expected it would happen again, but it didn't. By 2016, it was back again. I reached out to a new doctor in 2017, but that didn't go very well. I wasn't willing to follow her recommendations so she essentially told me she couldn't help me, and I walked out of her office, never to walk in there again. Since 2016 it would come and go, but it came and stayed with a vengeance the last two years. And then came the anxiety. That was new, and it was brutal. For two months I lived in a cycle of anxiety that was almost debilitating.
And, yet, no one knew. I think maybe a few people around me figured it out, but most did not. Again, it was easy to hide behind Mason's senior year and then moving to Ruston. I kept showing up everyday, but I dreaded waking up, and I couldn't wait to walk in the door every night and close it behind me. I did all the things as best I could. I was absolutely exhausted. I did all the things, but I didn't want to. The only exception was Sunday mornings. I lived for Sunday mornings behind that big grand piano during rehearsals and worship services. It was those mornings - the songs, the Scripture, the prayer - that made it possible for me to get up the next day and start all over again. There were so many Sundays, especially in June, September and October that tears flowed the whole morning. I think there are three people who noticed week after week, but they were so gracious in not saying anything.
It was around this same time that I realized something else. I'd inadvertently and unintentionally pulled away from my people. I wasn't investing in them, keeping up with them, reaching out to them. My bestie made a comment about my hair and how long it had been since we'd seen each other. That made me sad. So sad. I knew then it was time. I was desperate. So desperate.
I had prayed to the Lord for a long time - years - to bring healing. I'd begun to think this was my "thorn in the flesh." Maybe the Lord wouldn't bring healing. If He didn't, I knew that He would continue to sustain me. But I wasn't going to stop asking. Begging. By October I was desperate. I needed rescue.
And rescue came!
October 20.
The Lord brought me to Psalm 40 that morning.
"I waited patiently for the LORD; and He inclined to me, and heard my cry. He also brought me up out of a horrible pit, out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock, and established my steps." ~Psalm 40:1-2
In that moment, the anxiety was gone. I can't even describe the weight that was lifted off my shoulders. I felt it. Literally felt it being lifted. It had been so heavy. So very heavy. Getting up and walking was so much easier. I'd forgotten what that felt like.
October 21.
I was in Psalm 40 again.
"He has put a new song in my mouth - Praise to our God; Many will see it and fear, and will trust in the LORD. Blessed is that man who makes the LORD his trust, and does not respect the proud, nor such as turn aside to lies. Many, O LORD my God, are Your wonderful works which You have done; And Your thoughts toward us cannot be recounted to You in order; If I would declare and speak of them, they are more than can be numbered . . . I have proclaimed the good news of righteousness in the great assembly; Indeed, I do not restrain my lips, O LORD, You Yourself know. I have not hidden Your righteousness within my heart; I have declared Your faithfulness and Your salvation; I have not concealed Your lovingkindness and Your truth from the great assembly." ~Psalm 40:3-5, 9-10
In that moment, I knew it was time. God was calling me to tell someone. He was calling me back to words on a page. Real words. Raw words. I couldn't do it by myself so I asked Him to show me how. Two days later a friend called "out of the blue" and asked how I was doing. I couldn't say, "Fine" anymore. So I didn't. And she didn't hesitate. That night after work and kids and homemaking and all the things, she came over to my house and spent two hours listening to me and praying over me while Seth took the girls to dance. Over the next three days, three more friends reached out "out of the blue" and asked how I was doing. So I told them.
My friend who dropped everything to come to my house to pray over me then helped me find a new doctor. So I saw him at the end of November. That was another day of a lot of raw words, but he listened to every last one of them. When I was done, his next question was simple. How are you sleeping? Sleep?! I haven't slept good since 2005. That's the honest truth. So he said the first thing we needed to do was address that. He also order lots of lab work. Part of me was hoping we would find something that would "explain" the last two years. I guess it wouldn't seem so bad if there was a "something." A "something" seems much more palatable than depression and anxiety. But you know what? There was NOTHING. Besides a lack of sleep, the only other thing we were able to figure out is that I have a major B12 deficiency that's due to something that starts with an "h" and is impossible to pronounce. I know I should be grateful. And I am. In the meantime, we are addressing the lack of sleep and vitamin B deficiency with a vengeance!
Our BSF study this year is John's gospel. Going into it, I just knew it would be a soft spot to land after the last couple of years. And I was right.
"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through Him, and without Him nothing was made that was made. In Him was LIFE, and the life was the LIGHT of men." ~John 1:1-4
I circled those two words: LIFE and LIGHT. Those are two powerful themes that are woven throughout the book of John. As I continued walking through Psalm 40 over the next few days in October, I realized something. I think most people would describe depression as dark. For a lot of people, it absolutely is. It is. But that's not what it's been for me. It was deep. It was all-encompassing. It means vacations were cancelled and invitations were declined. It meant some days were absolutely numb and void of any kind of feeling. It was grief and loneliness. But it was never dark. It was full of light and hope. The Lord sustained me. He carried me. That such deep loneliness and sadness and light and hope could all coexist together is something that only the Lord could do.
Psalm 34 was my battle cry for 18 months.
"I will bless the LORD at all times; His praise shall continually be in my mouth. My soul shall make its boast in the LORD; the humble shall hear of it and be glad. Oh, magnify the LORD with me, and let us exalt His name together. I sought the LORD, and He heard me, and delivered me from all my fears. They looked to Him and were radiant, and their faces were not ashamed. This poor man cried out, and the LORD heard him, and saved him out of all his troubles. The angel of the LORD encamps all around those who fear Him, and delivers them. Oh, taste and see that the LORD is good; Blessed is the man who trusts in Him! Oh, dear the LORD, you his saints! There is no want to those who fear Him. The young lions lack and suffer hunger; but those who seek the LORD shall not lack any good thing . . . the righteous cry out, and the LORD hears, and delivers them out of all their troubles. The LORD is near to those who have a broken heart, and saves such as have a contrite spirit. Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the LORD delivers him out of them all." ~Psalm 34:1-10, 17-19
But then I landed in Psalm 40.
"But I am poor and needy; Yet the LORD thinks upon me. You are my help and my deliverer; Do not delay, O my God." ~Psalm 40:17
Eight years is a long time. The last two years . . . have been a very long two years. But I can say with all certainty that God did NOT delay. He didn't. He sustained me until He brought me up and out. He delivered me. He rescued me.
Rescue.
The past few years, I've gotten into the habit of choosing a "word of the year" instead of a New Year's resolution. The word I started with at the beginning of 2023 was "still." I wanted it to be rest, but that seemed too simple a word. So I landed on still.
"Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth." ~Psalm 46:10
I know why I chose that word. I was tired. I was done. I didn't want to do anything anymore. Literally. I didn't want to go anywhere anymore. Let's just say that 2023 was anything but still! It was a year that brought about significant change to our family. I haven't thought about that word since January!
Today is the last of 2023. I often think of life as a journey. There are stops and starts, twists and turns, mountains and valleys, crooked places and smooth paths. I also think of life as a book. There are words and sentences, pages and chapters. I don't know that a new year is necessarily the beginning of a new chapter. I think the last two years have been one continuous chapter for me, and I'm hopeful that I'm turning the page, and 2024 is the beginning of a new one. But, if not, if it's simply just a new paragraph in the same chapter, I'm certain that today is a period on the last two years.
Rescue.
That was my real word for 2023.