I am so blessed to have the opportunity to go to a Beth Moore Bible study on Monday nights. It helps me fill the void of my old Monday night routine of Monday Night Bible Study. We are studying the book of Esther and discussing how it is tough to be a woman and God's plan and purpose for our lives. Sometimes we forget that God has a plan for us. Sometimes we forget that He is there. Sometimes God takes a behind the scenes part in our lives, but He never leaves us. We just may not feel His presence. I am so excited about learning about Esther and how God used a woman like her to change a nation. What a powerful message of hope and inspiration.
I have especially felt the trials of being a "woman". The only way I feel like I am a woman is the fact that I so unwillingly receive a gift every month. Preceding that gift I became an evil version of myself. I try to mask it, but it still seems to rear its ugly head at those I love. I can get so angry at the smallest things. It makes me want to punch things and break things. I do have somewhat of a temper, I mean I am a redhead and you know what they say about redheads right? If you don't know, look it up. Haha.
Another area that I so try to avoid is the stereotypical "emotional" and "super-sensitive" part of being a woman. I hate crying and especially in front of people. But over the past week I have had my fair share of tears. My eyes have poured buckets on several occasions over the past week, but to particular circumstances which normally are met by tears. I haven't cried that much in a really long time, but I just couldn't prevent them from falling last Wednesday at my Meemau's funeral. We had the viewing and visitation beforehand. I was fine until I went up to my great aunt Kay and hugged her and she asked me how I was doing. I lost it. Then I got better for a few seconds until I went over to see my Meemau's body. I always hate looking at the lifeless bodies of loved ones. They never look like they are suppose to. But my aunt Kay was there to comfort me and talk to me and make me laugh. She told me they had put a wig on my Meemau, but she took it off the night before...because my Meemau would NOT have wanted that at all. She would have said take that d*** thing off me! I was also comforted in her words that my Meemau loved "her baby". I wasn't the baby of the family, but we did have a very special bond. I know she loved me and I loved her dearly as well. The service itself was also another very difficult time. We sung three different songs...all of which I struggled through. I maybe sung about 20 words altogether, but hearing my dad sing out clear and glancing over at my weeping aunts and cousins along with feeling my own grief...the tears just poured out of my eyes. It especially made my heart hurt and my eyes flood again when my great aunt Betty just started shaking and crying hard at the end of the service when they commended my Meemau into God's hands then following that up with "How Great Thou Art" as they rolled her casket down the aisle out of the sanctuary. That song has been sung at the last four funerals I have gone too. Three of them have been my dad singing the song, but this time it was the choir and congregation. It is such a powerful song, but now has very different connotations for me. Most times when I sing the song, my eyes well with tears. The burial was not hard for me. It was very short and sweet and a poem was read...I really can't remember what it said but then her body was committed to the ground and "ashes to ashes and dust to dust"--returning her body to the ground that man was originally formed from--was said. Then we watched as her casket was lowered into her grave. I can't really describe the feeling. It was just surreal, I guess. There was a slight breeze which was almost kind of like imagery of her spirit flowing through each person that was there and touching them. I know that's not how it is, but it felt sort of like that in a way. I don't want that day to be the last day I think about and remember my Meemau. I will always remember her. There are going to be some very hard times. Thanksgivings, Christmases, birthdays, Easter, and maybe a random day when there is something that someone will say or do that reminds me of her. I just can only hope now that she is in heaven. She is the one that planned her service and chose what songs would be sung and the scriptures that would be read. "Beautiful Savior", "Amazing Grace", and "How Great Thou Art" were sung. Psalm 23 was sung in a song by the Requiem Choir and scriptures from Romans, John, and The Lord's Prayer was also sung. Each of those talks about God's saving grace and the truth of the Gospel. I have some hope in that that she did have that relationship and that was her parting gift to her family. The peace that is left behind in knowing that she is waiting in heaven until the day that we are called home.
How I digress, but I had not shared about the funeral yet. I don't know if I conveyed all of my feelings about it. But it was a very hard day for me. One of the hardest. I was comforted to see a lot of my family there and I can only pray for a lot of the brokenness that is in some of my family members. I hope that this will only bring them together and not drive them apart.
So whew....life's tough. And it's tough being a woman. Women are the comforters...mostly. And sometimes it's hard to grieve while also trying to comfort and hold your family together during a hard time. I'm not trying to stereotype, but my mom typically has always been the comforter in my family. I feel like it's just a motherly thing. But that's just me. What do you think?
Anyways, lots of good things coming. I will talk about those later. I'm going to Campbell this coming weekend, so I'm sure I'll have lots to say about my trip after I get back. I can only imagine how much different it'll feel. Being that I'm not a student anymore. Wow. This year has gone by fast. My 22nd year has gone by fast as well. I'll be 23 in two days. Yikes. That's seven years away from being 30....for those of you not good at math. :)
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