Written Jun 24, 2012 3:33pm by Renee Albracht
Great weekend! On Saturday I spent a good part of the day reading. Then, we all went to go see the new Disney/Pixar movie, Brave. After the movie, which was great, we got some lunch and ran some errands. I felt great, but as the day wore on, my hands began to hurt really bad. It was as if they were sunburned and arthritic. I finally figured out that heat makes my hands and feet more sensitive. The rest of me felt pretty good, though.
I woke up several hours earlier than I have in two weeks this morning in order to get ready for church. I was so excited to be able to go after all this time! It's amazing how much I miss things once I can no longer do them. I used to take simple things like getting to go to church for granted. I was also excited to get to share this with my mom. My dad has been to church with me, but my mom has not. For some reason, it is now very important for me to share the things I love most with my family.
What I did not expect this morning was to be so weepy. During prayer time, I intended to go pray with one of the pastors. I figured I would probably cry some, but what I did not count on was all the support. I made my way to the pew at the front, knelt down and closed my eyes. Then, I felt hands on my shoulders. I looked up and saw my dad. I had no idea he had followed me down the isle. I smiled and closed my eyes again. Then, I felt hands all over me, on my back, shoulders, holding my own hands, and a woman's voice begin to pray. I opened my eyes and saw so many of my church family gathered around me. I began to openly weep. I did not cry from grief or sorrow. I cried because I felt so unbelievably loved. Once again I felt so humbled.
At first, I tried to stifle the tears, but within seconds I told myself to just let it go. If I cannot cry in church at the alter in prayer to my Father surrounded by my closest friends, when can I cry? This was my safe place. This was my place of honesty and of letting go. I let go.
After prayer, I made my way back to my seat and dried my tears. Then, the choir began to sing "Just As I Am." The chorus spoke of being broken, but loved just the same. Again, I tried to stifle my tears, embarrassed to cry in front of my guests. But, I quickly let go of that fear, too, and allowed myself to feel what I felt and to give in to my emotion. I have heard that song countless times and loved it, but it meant more today than every before. I have been emotionally and spiritually broken before, but I have never been physically broken. Another humbling moment and connection with my Savior and Father.
After church, we all went to Sunday School. I was taken aback by all the warm greetings. During announcements, I wanted to thank everyone in the class for their love and support and to thank them for showing my parents that I will be okay once they leave because I do have a great support system here. I could not get the words out the way I wanted to. I began to cry.
I cried yet again when the class decided to pray over certain members going through some rough times. As people, including my mom and dad, put their hands on me and prayed over me, I cried. I cried even harder when I heard those around me crying for me. Once again, I was completely overcome by their love for me. I was humbled.
As we drove home, I contemplated this out loud with my family. There was a time when I held my emotions inside. I would not allow myself to cry in public. Things didn't seem to really move me to want to cry that much. I held people at bay, not wanting to get too close to people. I never allowed anyone to get to close to me, including family and my husband.
I think God may have used something as horrible as my divorce to prepare me for this moment. God knows I need people right now. I need their love and support. I need to allow them to get close to me and help me at times.
After the divorce, I recognized my own fault in it and knew that if I was to truly heal and keep from making the same mistakes in the future, I needed to 1) allow myself to feel what I felt and 2) allow myself to get close to other people, meaning I had to let them in and I had to open up to others.
Because of that experience, I am in a place where I can cry in front of others, even at the movies like I did yesterday. I can be honest with others about how I feel. I can even be there for others.
I'm not saying I never try to hide my feelings or that I never pull away from others or that I am the perfect friend. I have a long way to go in all these respects. But, honesty has become more important to me than anything.
I am not afraid of dying. I am not afraid of living. I do not care which direction this illness takes me (although I would like to be healthy). What I care about is being a good person, being an honest person in all respects, and living Christ's example.
Back in 2003 when my husband and I were living back in Texas with my dad, I was miserable. Our marriage had hit a rough patch and I was extremely depressed and unhappy with my life. I certainly was not praying and worshipping as I should. I had a job that in hindsight was good, but that I hated at the time. I was in a lousy place.
One day, a woman who worked in the building next door came into my office. She said she just had to come and tell me that when she looked at me, she saw the face of Jesus. She walked over to my office from her office just to tell me that!
That compliment terrified me. I knew in my heart of hearts that I was not living a very Christian life, even though I had not done anything immoral or illegal. I was simply in a place of self pity.
Such a compliment is a big responsibility. I have always said that we, as Christians, are sometimes the only Bible others see. What we do and what we say on a daily basis matters. Even the way we drive and the language we speak matters. It is our goal for people to see Jesus when they look at us. But what a HUGE responsibility that carries!
I was not ready for that responsibility at that time, but prayed that I would one day be worthy of such a compliment. I see people in our church like the Heneckes or the Griggs, or the Parrotts and think, "I want to have that kind of faith and spiritual maturity some day."
For the first time in my life, I think I am getting closer to being that kind of Christian. I am not there yet, but so many spiritual truths that I have known about and agreed with all my life are finally starting to become real. They are starting to become a part of who I am. It's a shame it took cancer to open my eyes and to open my heart, but that's okay. As long as I'm on this journey with my Father and as long as He continues to teach me and hopefully use me, I'm good with whatever tomorrow brings!
I woke up several hours earlier than I have in two weeks this morning in order to get ready for church. I was so excited to be able to go after all this time! It's amazing how much I miss things once I can no longer do them. I used to take simple things like getting to go to church for granted. I was also excited to get to share this with my mom. My dad has been to church with me, but my mom has not. For some reason, it is now very important for me to share the things I love most with my family.
What I did not expect this morning was to be so weepy. During prayer time, I intended to go pray with one of the pastors. I figured I would probably cry some, but what I did not count on was all the support. I made my way to the pew at the front, knelt down and closed my eyes. Then, I felt hands on my shoulders. I looked up and saw my dad. I had no idea he had followed me down the isle. I smiled and closed my eyes again. Then, I felt hands all over me, on my back, shoulders, holding my own hands, and a woman's voice begin to pray. I opened my eyes and saw so many of my church family gathered around me. I began to openly weep. I did not cry from grief or sorrow. I cried because I felt so unbelievably loved. Once again I felt so humbled.
At first, I tried to stifle the tears, but within seconds I told myself to just let it go. If I cannot cry in church at the alter in prayer to my Father surrounded by my closest friends, when can I cry? This was my safe place. This was my place of honesty and of letting go. I let go.
After prayer, I made my way back to my seat and dried my tears. Then, the choir began to sing "Just As I Am." The chorus spoke of being broken, but loved just the same. Again, I tried to stifle my tears, embarrassed to cry in front of my guests. But, I quickly let go of that fear, too, and allowed myself to feel what I felt and to give in to my emotion. I have heard that song countless times and loved it, but it meant more today than every before. I have been emotionally and spiritually broken before, but I have never been physically broken. Another humbling moment and connection with my Savior and Father.
After church, we all went to Sunday School. I was taken aback by all the warm greetings. During announcements, I wanted to thank everyone in the class for their love and support and to thank them for showing my parents that I will be okay once they leave because I do have a great support system here. I could not get the words out the way I wanted to. I began to cry.
I cried yet again when the class decided to pray over certain members going through some rough times. As people, including my mom and dad, put their hands on me and prayed over me, I cried. I cried even harder when I heard those around me crying for me. Once again, I was completely overcome by their love for me. I was humbled.
As we drove home, I contemplated this out loud with my family. There was a time when I held my emotions inside. I would not allow myself to cry in public. Things didn't seem to really move me to want to cry that much. I held people at bay, not wanting to get too close to people. I never allowed anyone to get to close to me, including family and my husband.
I think God may have used something as horrible as my divorce to prepare me for this moment. God knows I need people right now. I need their love and support. I need to allow them to get close to me and help me at times.
After the divorce, I recognized my own fault in it and knew that if I was to truly heal and keep from making the same mistakes in the future, I needed to 1) allow myself to feel what I felt and 2) allow myself to get close to other people, meaning I had to let them in and I had to open up to others.
Because of that experience, I am in a place where I can cry in front of others, even at the movies like I did yesterday. I can be honest with others about how I feel. I can even be there for others.
I'm not saying I never try to hide my feelings or that I never pull away from others or that I am the perfect friend. I have a long way to go in all these respects. But, honesty has become more important to me than anything.
I am not afraid of dying. I am not afraid of living. I do not care which direction this illness takes me (although I would like to be healthy). What I care about is being a good person, being an honest person in all respects, and living Christ's example.
Back in 2003 when my husband and I were living back in Texas with my dad, I was miserable. Our marriage had hit a rough patch and I was extremely depressed and unhappy with my life. I certainly was not praying and worshipping as I should. I had a job that in hindsight was good, but that I hated at the time. I was in a lousy place.
One day, a woman who worked in the building next door came into my office. She said she just had to come and tell me that when she looked at me, she saw the face of Jesus. She walked over to my office from her office just to tell me that!
That compliment terrified me. I knew in my heart of hearts that I was not living a very Christian life, even though I had not done anything immoral or illegal. I was simply in a place of self pity.
Such a compliment is a big responsibility. I have always said that we, as Christians, are sometimes the only Bible others see. What we do and what we say on a daily basis matters. Even the way we drive and the language we speak matters. It is our goal for people to see Jesus when they look at us. But what a HUGE responsibility that carries!
I was not ready for that responsibility at that time, but prayed that I would one day be worthy of such a compliment. I see people in our church like the Heneckes or the Griggs, or the Parrotts and think, "I want to have that kind of faith and spiritual maturity some day."
For the first time in my life, I think I am getting closer to being that kind of Christian. I am not there yet, but so many spiritual truths that I have known about and agreed with all my life are finally starting to become real. They are starting to become a part of who I am. It's a shame it took cancer to open my eyes and to open my heart, but that's okay. As long as I'm on this journey with my Father and as long as He continues to teach me and hopefully use me, I'm good with whatever tomorrow brings!
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