Day 40

Lately, I've been having the urge to blog when I'm out and about and then when I come home I have nothing to say.

Even now as I'm trying to write out my thoughts... I find that most of them are... incomplete. Which totally describes how I feel oftentimes.

How am I doing? I am exhausted. I've been tired all the time for the past few days. I wake up and I'm tired already. I can't tell if I'm physically exhausted, emotionally exhausted or some combination of the two... or if one is causing the other. Bottom line, I feel like sleeping all the time.

That probably means that I need to rest. And rest is good.

I feel like there's different levels of rest. There's rest from work, there's rest from schoolwork... there's rest from other commitments... and then there's doing-absolutely-nothing rest. It's really hard for me to sit still, rest, and do nothing. When I have a break, I want to catch up on my leisure activities like watching a movie or things I've wanted to do, but left for another time... like sewing a button back onto a shirt. Better yet, sewing a button while watching a movie. Yes, I even multi-task my leisure activities.

I think I'm pretty industrious. I usually find that I get a lot of stuff done in the course of a day. Someone once asked me "how do you do it?" and I wrote a quote for her: never put off until tomorrow what you can do today. And then someone else once told me... never put off until tomorrow what you can do the day after tomorrow (Mark Twain). Hm. :)

Breaking things up into smaller tasks also helps me get things done. It's like creating stepping stones for myself instead of trying to jump far and wide all at once. Sometimes I feel like I'll be able to rest better once I get things out of the way first. It's hard to rest when your mind is full of things you have to do. So I write them down to empty my head. And then I make a phone or a google reminder for myself so it's not so completely out of my head that I never get around to doing it.

Rest is important. It doesn't just happen when you're done with whatever it is you're doing. It needs to happen on a regular basis. Some people need to rest a little less, some people a little more. Right now, I need to rest and be still. Be still and know that God is God.

At work or at rest... I constantly ask myself, why am I doing what I'm doing? What is the purpose? Usually, what I'm doing has a purpose... sometimes it doesn't. Like playing Bejewled Blitz. It has absolutely no purpose and it is not worthwhile, but somehow I still find myself playing a lot. I think I need to go back to fasting Bejeweled Blitz. Anyway, so what am I doing? All the little tasks being checked off my never-ending lists... where are they leading me? Am I hopping from stone to stone but keeping my eyes on the stones and not on my final destination? Is being busy giving me the illusion that I'm going somewhere? Am I idling in the driveway? Or am I actually on the road and getting where I want to be? Where AM I going? What IS my purpose?

OK, I don't go through that entire thought process every time I do something... otherwise nothing would get done. But I do wonder.

It's good to question and evaluate yourself... but I don't need to know the answers to everything before I do it. I do, however, need to know my purpose. Yesterday's sermon was a good one to remind me of my purpose and Sunday school was a good one to reinforce that purpose in my life.

^{Psalm 150:6} Let everything that has breath praise the LORD.
Praise the LORD.

^{Psalm 145:10} All you have made will praise you, O LORD;
your saints will extol you.

¹¹ They will tell of the glory of your kingdom
and speak of your might,

¹² so that all men may know of your mighty acts
and the glorious splendor of your kingdom.

To know Him and make Him known. Hallelujah.

Day 36 - Solitude

I spent all of yesterday at home. It was a day to do homework, a day to catch up on things I'd left undone, to clean a little, rest a little. Mostly I did a lot of school stuff. At the end of the day, I'd accomplished quite a bit, but I was also hit with the sad realization that I have no life.

I know, I know... last week I spent every single day visiting with friends, having a sleepover, going to disneyland, hanging out, sharing meals, going biking, going shopping... and this week I say I have no life.

I've got school and I've got friends and family. My day could be full of activity and companionship, but at the end of it all, I climb into bed alone. I know I've done that every day of my life for 26 years and how in the world did 6 months of marriage change all that... I don't know. I feel it a lot more now that I know what I'm missing. I feel like being with Anderson was where I was meant to be. It was right. It was perfect. I had a place. I had a life.

Where am I now? I'm somehow back to square one and not an hour goes by that I don't wish that he were still here with me. I miss him. I miss our life together.

It wasn't easy though. Every now and then I'll get a flashback and remember how his body slowly started failing him. He couldn't write anymore. Someone saw his writing in Houston and thought that it was a child's handwriting. He couldn't walk on his own. I always had to hold him steady. He had to be fed because it was difficult for him to coordinate use of a knife and fork. Towards the end, he couldn't even talk. He could only blink his eyes, nod or shake his head. His hands, which were his weakest asset only a few weeks before, became his strongest one as he lost control of the rest of his body.

I was with him every single step of his journey for the last 6 months of his life. He was rarely "alone" (as in, without someone with him), but he was forced to endure life in his failing body... and in that sense, he was alone. It was his burden to bear. No matter how hard I tried to make things easier for him, I could never truly remove any of his burden. The thing about brain cancer... there's nothing physically wrong with your body except that you're slowly losing control of it. He was slowly being imprisoned by his failing body. Towards the end, he was floating in and out of consciousness, but I'm guessing he was still in there... unable to move. That is solitude.

How many of us could succumb to depression or despair when forced to endure the kind of imprisonment/solitude that Anderson had to endure? Or even actual imprisonment where we are forced to sit in solitude, only dreaming of or imagining what life is like for those on the "outside"? I can barely get myself to sit still for 5 minutes during the day. He had to live life doing less and less and less, to the point where he could do and control nothing. That would probably drive me insane.

I wonder if he knew how hard it would be for me and for those he left behind. I think he did. All he could talk about was taking care of me and how it hurt him to see us so sad. Every single night we spent together, he'd tell me that everything would be OK. I distinctly remember only one day, early on in our marriage, where we cried together and he told me he didn't want to die. Towards the end, he welcomed death. He pleaded with us not to make him endure this torture anymore. He told me he felt torn. He wanted to end the torture, but he also wanted to stay with us as long as he could. I read him the verse in Philippians 1 (below), and he said that was exactly how he felt.

22-26 As long as I'm alive in this body, there is good work for me to do. If I had to choose right now, I hardly know which I'd choose. Hard choice! The desire to break camp here and be with Christ is powerful. Some days I can think of nothing better. But most days, because of what you are going through, I am sure that it's better for me to stick it out here. So I plan to be around awhile, companion to you as your growth and joy in this life of trusting God continues. You can start looking forward to a great reunion when I come visit you again. We'll be praising Christ, enjoying each other. (The Message)

Paul was imprisoned when he wrote these words. He also said earlier on in the chapter that his imprisonment has had the opposite of its intended effect. It had not squelched the gospel or the message of Christ, it had only served to strengthen and spread it. And the same was true for Anderson. While his body grew weaker, his faith grew stronger. There was not a time in his life where so many people had come together in unity, in prayer, in fasting as during those last weeks of his life. We have heard some, but not all of the stories about how your lives had been touched by him and your faith renewed. I'm still interested in hearing your stories if you are still willing to share them.

Oh the heavenly consolation that God has caused to flow out of places of solitude. - S. C Rees.

Day 35

My favorite place to cry is in the shower. No tissues (no trash), no interruptions, no explaining necessary. Just me, my thoughts... and the water washing it all away.

Hm. That's it for today.

Day 33

I still wonder "why me?"

I look at all our pictures and we were so happy. So full of life. I look at the pictures and I remember back to the day it was taken... and it's a bittersweet moment where I'm happy for the younger-Tifferson, but also heartbroken because I know how our lives together (on earth) came to such an abrupt end.

Sometimes I just want to go back to those days. I wish I could. Go back and enjoy the moments all over again. I was watching Star Trek First Contact (yes, I'm a semi-trekky-geek) last night and I totally wish that there were holodecks in real life sometimes. For those of you who haven't heard of a holodeck... it's a simulated reality room that uses holograms to recreate scenes in a book... do training simulations... it's fake but it seems so real. I guess I don't want to be stuck in the past. I just miss my favorite person.

Sometimes I have a headache or a pain in my neck and I'm like half excited thinking what if it's cancer or something. When I forget things or mix up words, sometimes I wonder if I have brain damage or a tumor and I'm almost happy at the thought. I don't really want to die, but in a way... I kinda wouldn't mind. Life here is hard. It's got a lot of joy and blessings but nothing compared to life in heaven.

To come to Thee is to come home from exile, to come to land out of the raging storm, to come to rest after long labour, to come to the goal of my desires and the summit of my wishes. -Charles Spurgeon [from Randy Alcorn's Heaven. Dunno how long it's gonna take me to finish reading it but I'm going to try...thanks Julia. :) ]

Sometimes I just want to skip to the end. It's not even the "end"... I want to skip to the new beginning. I want to skip to the promise of glorified bodies, uninhibited fellowship with God and His children, no more tears, no more pain, no more of THIS. And I wanna see my Anderson again. I wanna meet the people I've only read about. All the cool people in the Bible...and God and JESUS... man, it's gonna be so awesome.

Going through Streams in the Desert right now and I really like it. Reading these kinds of daily devotional readings is like reading someone's old school blog. Twice in the past few weeks there have been entries about waiting on God and they've both spoken to me pretty deeply.

The entry from Aug 16 talked about how God uses the pauses in life just as much as movement. You need the rests. Just like in music how if there were never any rests, it would just go on and on and on and you'd get tired just listening. The rests allow you to appreciate when things start up again.

It requires much more courage to stand and wait and still not lose heart or lose hope, to submit to the will of God, to give up opportunities for work and leave honors to others, and to be quiet, confident, and rejoicing while the busy multitude goes happily along their way.

Faithfulness. It's so important. Faithfulness when things are rough and faithfulness when things are going well... and most of all, faithfulness when nothing seems to be happening at all.

And the entry from Aug 23 talked about faith and about how Abraham obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going (Hebrews 11:8). It also talked about how when you're going somewhere by boat (yeah this is an OLD book), you can't see your final destination, but you keep going, your keep checking your progress and direction by the sun and the stars and then you end up exactly where you intended to be.

Waiting on God brings us to the end of our journey much faster than our feet.

So yeah. Even when I feel like speeding things up a little bit, I get reminders that I need to wait and that waiting is a good thing when you're waiting on God.

Lots to do now that school's started up again. I have a lot of online classes so I'm gonna need a lot of discipline to get through those well. Better get to bed.

Day 31

wow. 31 days. It's only been a month. Unbelievable. We used to joke that every day we spent apart felt like weeks (i.e. if we hadn't seen each other in 2 days, we'd say, "I haven't seen you in, like, two weeks!"). Sometimes we used to even joke about the hours that we spent apart. 2 hours felt like 2 days. It really does feel like we've spent more time apart than just 31 days.

I was talking with a wise woman the other day and I asked her what "healed" was supposed to look like. Everyone says, "give yourself time to heal", and I'm really curious what it's supposed to feel like or look like when your heart is healed. I know that heartache after a breakup makes you feel dirty, spent, and worthless... that "healed" is when you feel restored, clean, and precious again. This kind of heartache... the heartache of death and loss... something is missing... how do you feel whole again?

She used the analogy of the amputation to explain healing... that physical healing and emotional healing were very similar in process. Immediately after an amputation, it might not hurt because you're still numb. After the numbness wears off, it begins to hurt. It hurts a lot. Excruciating pain. You won't even need to touch it and it will hurt. When it begins to heal, you may not feel the pain all the time, but you'll still feel it when you touch it. After you're healed, you should be able to touch the amputation site and it will no longer hurt.

I thought about it a little more and decided that it was true. So it's not necessarily "feeling" whole and complete... it's more about the pain. I don't feel the pain all the time now, only sometimes. Also, when I (or someone else, or something) touches Anderson's place in my heart, it hurts to varying degrees. Sometimes it's just a quick pang and I can flinch and take it. Sometimes it hurts so badly that I just cry wherever I am. I still feel like a piece of me is missing though. I think it's getting better though. I remember in Houston... I couldn't even go shopping. I'd get close to the men's section and I'd just start crying, turn around, and leave the store. Since being home, I've gone shopping, I've gone to the beach, I've been to Disneyland... these were things that I'd imagined would be super hard for me to handle because of the memories that would wash over me, but I was able to do them, get through them, and enjoy myself despite the quick pangs of pain that I'd feel when I'm there.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm just numb or if I'm truly healing. With both, you're not feeling the pain. I guess with numbess, you're not feeling anything at all. I can definitely say that I still feel happy, sad, frustrated, and upset... and I still laugh. I'm not sure I'd be able to feel those things if I were numb and not healing.

Sometimes I just want to protect myself from a lot of things to prevent feeling fear, pain, or uncertainty. Sometimes I won't do things simply because I don't feel like they're relevant to me or that they'll even be worthwhile. Sometimes I don't want to talk to people so they don't ask me hard questions. Sometimes it's just wise to try it just to know that you don't want to do it again (i.e. ferris wheeling). Sometimes limiting certain indulgences is wise (i.e. fatty foods so I don't get... more fat)... sometimes limiting myself is actually robbing myself of potential blessings and joy.

For example, I've received a LOT of books and other reading material lately. Sometimes I think that maybe people don't know what to say so they just hand me a book to let the book say it for them. How many times did they just read the title or the back of the book and decide that it might help me? Do they really know what they're saying to me? I have no idea. I've been tempted to be frustrated that people would rather hand me a book than try and talk to me. I've been tempted to wish that people would stop giving me things altogether. I have since chosen to focus more on the intentions rather than the books themselves. No one is required to give me anything. And no one is forcing me to read them all either. And quite frankly... I don't really want or need to talk to so many people. I guess the point I'm trying to make is that with each book I receive... every situation I encounter (whether new or familiar), I am being given a chance to choose. Do I choose the negative reaction or do I choose the positive? Do I choose my way or do I choose God's way? Choosing and living with my choices is part of my growth. I thank ALL OF YOU for helping me grow.

Mini point: Don't limit yourself when you feel like giving of yourself to someone else or sharing something with someone that you think might help. You just can't get hung up on their response. You give or you share because that's what you're called to do... what they do with it is their choice. Kinda like sharing the gospel too. You are limiting their potential to benefit from or grow when you hold back from sharing.

As you give me something, I am learning how to receive. Thank you for the gift, but thank you also for teaching me how to receive. All of life is valuable for learning, training, exercising, and growing. The bad things too.

I think that a lot (but not all) of things in life are learned in theory before they are practiced. When you learn in theory, the correct response to a given situation seems so obvious. You might think you have mastered the subject because you've aced the theoretical test, but the whole point of theory is to describe or explain a real-life phenomenon. Theories guide, but they do not ensure. Same goes for being a Christian. The Bible guides, but the real test is if your life matches the one described in God's Word. Be a doer and not just a hearer. You can't live a life pleasing to God if you're not really "living" or you're not doing anything risky or you're just protecting yourself from the world. The stark contrast that comes from a life in God versus a life outside of God is the difference that He makes in our life choices, in our reactions, in our priorities...and most of all in our love.

A lot of my "living" now is reaping the fruits of my theoretical studies. I find myself saying "I get it now" quite often. In this way, the Bible has become so much more real to me now more than ever. It's like a little like the joy I felt when I finally got to actually put in a real IV in a real person versus reading about it in a book or practicing on the rubber arm in the skills lab. Stuff I learned all my life...the peace that surpasses all understanding, seeking God and finding Him, the fear of God being the beginning of all wisdom... I understand a whole lot more now than I did before and it makes me really excited and happy but there's still so much I don't know yet and I'm looking forward to learning. I mess up too. I got unnecessarily upset at someone the other day. Through that situation, I'm learning how to be quick to listen and slow to speak and also to not let the sun go down on my anger... to confess and ask for forgiveness right away. I was tempted to just let it go without saying anything or just be mad for a little while longer, but I chose to do something else with it... something better than that. I hope I never stop learning. I hope I never stop feeling like this. I hope I never stop growing.

And let me just end by saying that I have read some of the books that have been recommended to me and 3 out of 4 (that I've read or have started reading) have blessed me immensely. That other 1 was just a mini blessing, but I didn't particularly like it so it was good that it was short. Here's something I read today from a recommended book, Streams in the Desert:

God's promises and His providence do not lift us from the world of common sense and everyday trials, for it is through these very things that our faith is perfected. And it is in this world that God loves to interweave the golden threads of His love with the twists and turns of our common, everyday experiences.

Golden threads. I like that imagery.

Day 29

It's been a few days since my last post. It's not that I haven't been struggling, because I have. I just haven't been struggling as much on my own.

On Saturday, the 15nd of August, my family, the Chen family, and I went to Corona Del Mar and released half of Anderson's ashes. I wish I could tell you that I felt something profound, something meaningful... SOMETHING. But I can't. His ashes were in a ziploc bag (because we split the ashes) and they were a lot coarser than I thought. There was one big, flat piece at the top. I wonder if it was part of his skull or his hip bone. Kelly said a few words to him as his ashes were being released. I felt no such inclination to do so. To me, they were what they were... ashes and nothing more. If your house burns down, it's not your house anymore. It doesn't protect you from the elements or give you a nice, cozy place to lay your head. It is reduced to rubble and ash. It's not your house anymore.

Maybe it was supposed to symbolize closure more than anything else. I still have the other half of the ashes to spread on my own time... and alone.

When I first named this blog, Anderson's Ashes, I had a few things in mind. First, I guess the alliteration (and maybe a reference to Angela's Ashes but I confess that I haven't read it), but secondly... a phoenix. In case you don't know what a phoenix is (and I could be wrong too), it's something to do with mythology where a bird lives until the end of its time, it somehow spontaneously bursts into flames, reducing itself to ashes, and then a new, baby bird emerges. I wish I could tell you I got this directly from Greek mythology but... I have to say that I was thinking more Harry Potter and X-men than anything else.

Am I the baby bird or does the baby bird symbolize all the that has come as a result of Anderson's passing? Maybe it's both? Maybe it's none. Maybe I'm grasping in futility to make this thing work. I mainly wanted to continue writing about all the good things as well as the hard things that have been born out of Anderson's passing... from his "ashes".

This week is my last week of vacation before school starts. I've spent the past week meeting up with people, trying some new things [some turned out well, and some not so well... err... no ferris wheels (not carousels) for me, thank you very much], and generally being uplifted by the company of friends. There's something about being with people and sharing life with them that nurtures your heart and soul. I've come to a much greater appreciation of people, in general, lately. I used to feel like I shouldn't rely on anybody... that life would be so much more simple if I didn't have to count on anyone or trust anyone with anything of "mine". There's so much more joy in sharing than in hording. I realize now how I've missed out on so much of "life" because I've horded and sheltered so much of myself. I guess I always figured I had passed my "coming of age" years a while ago, but I suppose coming of age just comes with age and maybe it never stops "coming". Confusing myself now. Moving on.

I have too many thoughts right now and nothing makes sense to me at the moment. Basically... I've been so blessed by others lately. I've felt so cared for, so loved... so happy to be with others. I haven't felt like I've been overwhelmed by loneliness and emptiness because I've been so full lately. I thank God for that. Hope it continues but also hope that I'll be able to get some rest. Going out everyday is tiring.

Still living. Still figuring things out... day by day.

Day 25 - Heart Aches

Heartache. Heart Ache.

I don't know who first said it, but it is spot on. How can emotional pain manifest in physical pain? Nothing is physically "wrong" with me, but when I remember Anderson... there is a spot in the middle of my chest that tightens... almost to the point where it's hard to breathe. My heart hurts. It aches. Heartache.

Even the dictionary defines heartache as "anguish of the mind". I searched it on Wikipedia [because I know if it's on wikipedia it MUST be true... (read heavy sarcasm here just in case)] and although there isn't much of an entry on heartache, the first link was that it may relate to "love sickness".

I think that love and heartache go hand in hand. Your heart can't ache if you didn't first love. I keep thinking about heartache. Nay. I keep feeling heartache. The depth of my heartache is equal to the depth of my love and I loved with all my heart and every fiber of my being.

But still. What does the world know of heartache? I could be wrong, but I feel like you must have experienced love before you can experience heartache. I would never dare to say that I have loved anyone with perfect love. I don't think I'm capable. So... love. We love because He first loved us. And I'm talking about God here. Just in case.

This is how much God loved the world: He gave his Son, his one and only Son. And this is why: so that no one need be destroyed; by believing in him, anyone can have a whole and lasting life. God didn't go to all the trouble of sending his Son merely to point an accusing finger, telling the world how bad it was. He came to help, to put the world right again. Anyone who trusts in him is acquitted; anyone who refuses to trust him has long since been under the death sentence without knowing it. And why? Because of that person's failure to believe in the one-of-a-kind Son of God when introduced to him. John 3:16-18 The Message

God is love. That is who He is. Everything about Him oozes love. Oozes. I just said God oozes...love. Hm. But it's true. Everything anyone knows about love... God authored, invented, holds the patent, and everyone else's is a cheap imitation of the original genius. The love between parents and their child... the purest, most natural love that ever existed here on earth... Adam and Eve were God's first children and all of us came from them.

One who knows true love, knows true heartache. Why do we ache? From death? From abandonment? From betrayal? Hurtful words? A slap in the face? Stab in the back? God has endured all those things and more... from us... all of his children and most of all, when He sacrificed His only Son to pay the price for our sins... to ensure that we'll be paid for and enter into God's heaven.

I intended to just write a post about my pain. Obviously... my thoughts have grown past that original notion and I'm actually starting to work through the pain I'm going through right now just by reorienting... or re-focusing... myself on God amidst my pain. It's like writing this stuff is like giving myself a pep talk. Am I my own therapist sometimes? Maybe.

Somehow... I don't feel so bad anymore. Knowing that God knows what I'm feeling and that He's endured far worse and far more for SOOOOO much longer than me... I almost feel dumb for feeling the way I do. But to each his own. God would never belittle my pain and brag about how much more He's suffered than me. He empathizes. And knowing that He who has endured and overcome immeasurable pain... too much for any human to bear... still carries me in the palm of His hand and He'll never leave me... it gives me a lot of comfort... and the strength to go on another day.

Sorry I failed at writing a downer post. I tried. I just couldn't do it. Sometimes I wonder if people wonder if I'm doing badly and just writing good and happy things to cover it up. Sometimes I wonder if people wonder if I'm being sad for too long or happy too quickly. I guess there's no such time frame on grieving and I shouldn't worry about what other people think. These are my thoughts for today.

Day 23 - Joy

I read something on Thursday that made me think.

1 Thessalonians 5:16 "Be joyful always". How does this verse compare to your understanding of joy? What do you think "always" means in this verse?

I also read that same day that "Joy is the deep-rooted confidence that God is in control." To answer the questions above... when God is in control and you truly and deeply have confidence in it, it means that you've given up your "right" to control and have submitted to Him. So ALWAYS means that we need to always be giving God the control in our lives and ALWAYS being joyful that every good thing in life is God's gift to us.

I've been thinking about "joy" for the last few days ever since those questions were posed to me. What is joy? If someone were to ask me to define joy, I'd probably say... happiness to the hundredth power. Extreme happiness. Bursting, beaming happiness. Uncontainable. And if someone were to ask me what brings me joy, I'd really have to sit and think about what makes me feel that way.

Still pondering. Maybe the dictionary will help. Here's what Merriam-Webster says about joy:

1 a : the emotion evoked by well-being, success, or good fortune or by the prospect of possessing what one desires : delight b : the expression or exhibition of such emotion : gaiety
2 : a state of happiness or felicity : bliss
3 : a source or cause of delight

Delight! That's a good one. What brings me delight?

I feel like there are different levels of joy and delight. I delight in finding/seeing pretty/beautiful things. I find delight in miniature versions of everyday objects (like a mini cast iron skillet, a pediatric stethescope, a pediatric blood pressure cuff). Although I'm excited when I see these things... the elation I feel is momentary and goes away after the object moves out of my eyeline.

Lately, I've been catching up with a few friends. More than normal, but not all the people I'd like to. My heart smiles when I hear about the lovely things going on in their lives. So many of my friends are doing so well... in their careers, with relationships... with love. My heart is happy when I hear that they've found out their manuscript was accepted for publication, when they've found that perfect someone to live the rest of their lives with, when I hear about their new jobs, their new paychecks... their little life victories and triumphs. I'm even more happy when I hear that they give praise back to God for blessing them, for empowering them, for giving them those blessings.

I actually find this heart-smiling rather... intriguing because it is a little bit foreign to me. Haha. One would think that one would naturally be happy for your friends, but in the past, I've always been half happy for them, half jealous that I didn't also have it. Hey, it's an ugly truth, but it is the truth. There always used to be a twinge of jealousy whenever I would hear about someone else's victory. That's the feeling that I'm used to feeling when I hear about the good things that happened to people. But yesterday, I realized... I felt true and genuine delight in other people's happiness. I felt no jealousy. Unbelievable to me, actually. Is this what it feels like to be content with my life and my circumstances? I am so at peace with my life that I don't want what other people have? Isn't that so strange? Maybe you call it "being a good person" and you're apalled that I would even think that way, but to me, I think it's a miracle that God did in my heart.

That's not to say that I don't have goals or that I want everything to stay the way it is right now. I'm still looking forward to being employed, but I am not down about being unemployed. I look forward to the future, even though I'm widowed and might spend the rest of my life alone. There is so much good in my life... so many good people... so much to appreciate. I'm happy.

I was driving home yesterday night and I was thinking about how happy I was. I decided to just talk to Anderson (outloud) and tell him that I'm happy. So I did. And I cried. It's kind of dangerous for me to "talk" to Anderson while driving at night. My vision got blurry and I'm glad I made it home. I told him what I did that day. I told him that I was happy. He always said that he wanted me to be happy and he was always happy to hear when I was. He always told me that I was his happy. He was also mine. I told him that I missed him so so much and that even though I was happy, it will never be the same as when I could share my happiness with him at the end of the day. There will always be a little bit missing, but the glass is very nearly completely full and I will focus on what's in the glass and not what's missing.

So what's in my glass? Let me spend some time to remember...

• Love - I, personally, have experienced an outpouring of love from family, from friends, from strangers... from friends of friends. People I have never met have been sending me their condolences, their well wishes, their encouragements... anything and everything that they feel may help me deal with my grief. I believe that God has given so many of you so much sympathy and empathy to come alongside me and hold me up. You have shown me so much love... love that I do not deserve... love that I did not show you first... love that I did nothing to earn.
  
• Prayer - Anderson's prayer requests started out as an email sent to my family back at home and a few people who were close to me. When it became clear that many more people wanted to rally behind us and pray specifically for our needs, the google group started getting bigger and bigger. People started forwarding our prayer request emails far and wide. I sent updates and prayer requests and I shared stories about my thoughts, the lessons I learned, the joy and heartache I experienced. Through praying for Anderson, I learned how to submit myself to God's sovereignty in every single detail of our lives. Anything and everything got prayed for. You all prayed for us with such dedication, such passion, such urgency, with so much heart. It is so beautiful.
  
• Unity within the body of Christ. I had never seen such a wondrous or glorious display of unity as I experienced at our wedding back in January. So many people came together for one purpose and it was nothing short of miraculous what was accomplished in those few days. Our wedding was the best gift that our church, our family, and our friends could have given us. We were and I still am SO touched by the events of that day.
  
• A beautiful and fulfilling marriage. My husband. He wasn't a perfect human being by any means, but he was my perfect husband. He was everything I ever wanted and so much more. He was better than what I could have dreamed up as a grown woman... better than any lists I made about my "perfect guy" as a teenage girl. I married the best man I ever knew and I'm a better person for it. He was the best gift God ever gave me. THE best. I'm not one to give anything a 10 unless they or it is truly exceptional. Anderson is an 11 in my book. You can disagree but I will shut you down... always and forever. This one is non-negotiable.
  
• A future and a hope. I'm not all caught up in planning my future anymore. I do have some vague plans for what I'm doing the next few months, but I'm pretty willing to alter and adjust them as God leads me to. I do have backup plans and options stored up in my head too. For now, I'm going back to school to finish up my masters in nursing degree. I'm also going to be looking for a nursing job. I'm going to work on building and rebuilding new and old relationships and friendships. I'm not worried. A friend today reminded me that our 10-year high school reunion is coming up (omg, where did the time go?). The quote I put in the yearbook my senior year (9 years ago!!!) was: "All of life comes down to just one thing: that's to know the Lord Jesus and to make Him known." Or something like that. To know Him and make Him known. That's the heart of it. The rest (career, etc.) is just... a means to make it happen. And I have a hope that I will see Anderson again. Hope that I'll have eternal life. Life in heaven that's way better than the best EVER here on earth. I'm absolutely sure of it.

Those are just some of the things filling my glass. I've experienced such love, such care, such warmth from others this past year. I hope that it doesn't stop. I hope that people will never stop calling me to hang out; people will never stop giving God praise for all He's done. I hope that you will also pray for others and their needs with the same depth, frequency, and urgency as you prayed for us while we were in Texas. I hope that you all would experience all the things I've listed above and even MORE and that you would be so bold and courageous to share about it... with me... with everybody. That would definitely bring joy... to me... to everybody.

Tifferson was pretty darn awesome if I say so myself :P, but in the end, we're just human, same as you. All the good, all the awesomeness... all the warmth and love that still amazes even me... that's you seeing God through our lives. It's not unique to us either. I see it all around me. Don't you?

Day 21 - The divided heart

I've been busy since I got home. I'm glad that we were in Houston during the last few months of Anderson's life. It was like we left a lot of stress back home in California and all we had to do in Houston was simply live. Our lives were simple; we ate, we slept, we went to the hospital. We hung out in the living room. We talked. We only bought what we needed and we deliberated over every purchase, wondering if it was worth it, was it useful or would it just add clutter to the apartment that wasn't ours for the long-run?

In a way, I wish that I could live like that now. When I got back home, and especially moved back into my room, I realized how much excess I've accumulated and how much I like to have, but don't need. I felt the same way after coming home from a missions trip in Kyrgyzstan. I was amazed at how little one truly needs to live on. It made me feel like happiness in life happens more often in simplicity than in excess.

You focus better when life is uncluttered and simple. Like in so many of those shows on HGTV... the clutter in our houses detracts from the focal points of the room... the things the architect so thoughtfully designed in the house, but are hidden by all the stuff that the owner has accumulated.

I write about excess belongings, but I also write about excess in our emotional, spiritual, and mental lives as well. I find it a lot harder to focus now that I'm home not only because my room is full of clutter and is, as it always is... a mess. I find it hard to focus on God and how He's speaking to me because my mind is being pulled in so many different directions and I'm all caught up in what I need to get done. I don't think as deeply, I don't cry as hard, I don't FEEL as much as I did in Houston. I don't feel as close to God as I did before. It makes me sad... and lonely.

So I thought about it a little more... I asked God... HOW can I get away from the "excess" when sometimes it's necessary in life? I'll have responsibilities, I'll have school, I'll have work. It's not like I can just quit it all and still survive. God wouldn't want me to be lazy or idle either. How do I continue to grow my relationship with You now that I've gone back to my old life... gone back to school... HOW?

And God speaks.

"You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart" (Jeremiah 29:13 NIV)

All my heart. The whole thing. Anderson liked to say... the whole kit & caboodle. I think he just liked saying caboodle. And I'm pretty sure he thought the phrase was "the whole kitten caboodle".

So what keeps me from seeking God with my whole heart? Owning stuff? Planning for the future? Trying to control my life? Distractions that interrupt me during prayer times, quiet times, Bible reading times... whatever pulls me from place to place and keeps me from being still and knowing God.

Declutter = FOCUS. Focus on God. Focus on what I'm doing here at this particular juncture... why did God, the master architect, design this aspect of my life this way and how can I make the most of it... to show off the beauty of the creation, the glory of the architect, and not hide it with clutter that was never designed to be there? Practically... to ask myself is it necessary to do this now or can it wait? or does it even have to be done at all? God gifted me with so much... how can I use those gifts to their utmost? How can I reach out to others using what I have? And to think purposefully on every new thing I bring in to my life... is it worth it? Is it useful? Is it worth the time and space in my life... something that I have for a only a limited amount of time?

It's going to take time and a whole lot of discipline to declutter my room... and my life.

Thank you, Julia, for offering to help me with my room, and for sharing your pastor's phrase "God is better than answers" which helped me process and write out this thought.

Day 20

I was cleaning out my wallet today and I found a note that Anderson wrote me dated 7/23/2005. He wrote this before his diagnosis... before our lives became inextricably intertwined with doctors, MRI's, chemo, and the like. Even before all of that... here's a little bit of what he wrote me, probably before he left for Brazil:

I wanted to thank you from the bottom of my heart for loving me the way you do. No girl has ever loved me the way that you do and I'm certain that no one ever could... One of the beautiful things about our relationship is that we can spend time apart from each other without ever really leaving each other's hearts and each other's minds. Our memories will always bring that smile to our faces when we need it and our hearts will always beat for each other as we await the future we hold together. You shouldn't be crying right now because I'm doing the crying for you this time. There's no need to cry, my love, after all... you are still my one and only.

I miss him SO much today. I'm glad I found this note. I'd been pondering the phrase "he lives on in my heart" and how untrue I felt it was. What does that mean anyway? I don't have a living, growing relationship with him anymore. Whatever is in my heart is whatever I remember of him and not really him "living" there. I knew him well, but he would still surprise me all the time. I miss that.

Our memories bring tears to my eyes now and not a smile to my face.

I've tried many times to write since the memorial. I could never really finish a string of thoughts enough to publish the post.

There are so many things I want to write about, but I don't want to just write just for the sake of writing. I'll just publish it now so it doesn't get lost.

Day 17 - The gift

Anderson's memorial service was this afternoon. I don't know why, but I'm suddenly feeling really tired physically. Maybe it's emotional exhaustion or maybe I'm still on central time. Being around a whole lot of people is also exhausting for me. I was happy to see a lot of you, but I'm looking forward to some quietness and alone time.

I did have some tidbits that I wanted to share at the open mic time, but I really couldn't hold my thoughts together very well. I figured I'd just write about it later when I got home.

I wanted to revisit the thoughts I had a few months ago about Anderson being God's gift to me.

On May 19 (before finding out about Anderson's spinal tumors), I wrote:

The past few days, I've had this verse in my mind... every good and perfect gift comes from above (James 1:17)... and another one from 1 Corinthians that says "what do you have that you did not receive?". Our life, our love, our marriage, our friends and family... are all gifts. We did nothing to earn it and we're not going to hang on so tightly as if we did earn it. We mourn some things that didn't turn out the way we would have liked but we're both trying, by God's grace, to keep things in an eternal perspective and still try to honor God in all that we do.

And on May 25 (right after his spine surgery), I wrote:

I am comforted by God at this time and I'm trying to live minute to minute, day by day. I know He's crying with me and I know He's guarding and protecting me as well as Anderson. Whatever happens next is all part of the masterpiece of our lives.

I'm tempted to shout out that it's not fair, that we don't deserve this, that we're so young, and that we're good people who deserve to be happy... but all of those phrases get cut off before I even finish thinking them. They are replaced by phrases like: he is not mine to keep, this is all part of His plan, we've been happy, these 6 years have been the best gift I've ever received, and the Lord feels and He knows the pain of loss. I really don't think that all of these phrases come out of human rationalization, they are of God and are the fruit of your prayers for us. Thank you.

I don't think I could say it better now than I did back then. What I said during those tumultuous days of uncertainty in the hospital... still ring true today.

Anderson was my gift from God. He was the most incredible blessing... to me especially. Well, I can only speak for myself. God showed me joy through Anderson. God used Anderson to mold my character. God used Anderson to make the Bible come to life for me in a way I had never allowed it to in the past. God used Anderson to teach me the meaning of surrender... of sacrifice... of love. I am forever changed and there's no going back.

When someone gives you a gift, receive it. It was prepared specifically for you by the giver. When so much thought and personalization goes into a gift, when it is so masterfully prepared and presented... it's still your choice to accept it, but I feel like it's almost offensive to the giver if you refuse it. I know it's so Chinese-y to refuse gifts, reluctantly accept it, and then give one back out of "gratitude" but more like obligation so that things are equalized and you don't owe anyone anything. Nope. God gave me Anderson for this time in my life and there's absolutely nothing I did to deserve it and nothing I can do to repay Him. I love and appreciate my gift. I marvel at how much thought and care was put into my gift. He was so perfect for me and so precious. I know that these things are not easy to come by. In fact, I may only have one in my lifetime. I know the worth of the gift, and that makes the the impact of the loss so much more heart-wrenching.

Anderson is my gift from God, but he never really belonged to me. He is God's. I am God's. We were allowed these years together here on earth, but we are also promised an eternity together in heaven. Our love... the happiness we shared... the joy behind the smiles exchanged... were just a glimpse... a taste... of what is to come.

So Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.

So how am I doing? I'm doing OK. Some of you came up to me and told me to hang in there... to stay strong, to take care of myself... honestly, sometimes it seemed like I needed to say it to you more than you needed to say it to me. The deepest depths of my mourning... I feel like they are in the past. I will still cry. When I see his picture, my heart will still churn and ache. I may still bite my lip to keep the tears from falling in public places. But today, I'm OK.

The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away.
Blessed be the name of the Lord. (Job 1:21b)

Day 16 - eulogy

O LORD, be gracious to us;
we long for you.
Be our strength every morning,
our salvation in time of distress. Isaiah 33:2

I still can't find the right words to tell you all about Anderson. I guess I'm looking for words to do the impossible... to bring him back to life...but on paper. I guess it's not totally impossible. I just can't find the words right now. I decided to write a eulogy instead... for now. This is my first one ever and it's mostly facts. Hope it's OK.

Anderson Chen was born on June 27, 1981 to Kenbow and Suely Chen in Belo Horizonte, Brasil. He was also welcomed home by his 9-year old sister, Kelly Chen. Although the Chen family is Taiwanese in heritage, they are also very much Brazilian as well. When Anderson was 6 years old, his father bought a house in Hacienda Heights, CA and the family moved in shortly afterwards. Anderson went to Wedgeworth Elementary School, Cedarlane Middle School, Wilson High School, and finally UCI where he graduated with a BA in international studies with a minor in digital arts. Although Anderson went to school in California, his family kept a business in Sao Paulo, Brazil. He spent his summers in Brazil, keeping up his Portuguese and developing his business skills. Since his parents ran the business in Brazil, he would often be cared for by his big sister, Kelly. Although not part of his immediate family, he grew up very close to his cousins (Sanny, Nelson, and Allan Chen) and good family friends (Alex and Fernando Pa). They all supported one another and grew up together since their parents were mostly in Brazil running their respective businesses.

As a child, he had fond memories of swimming competitively at the Hilltop Sheraton (now Pacific Palms) and playing little league at the field adjacent to his elementary school. He also continued playing baseball in high school for a year. Although his baseball career ended in high school, he continued to play in intramural softball leagues in college and was a loyal Dodger fan. Anderson was also an avid bowler; he would go bowling every week with his good friend, Fernando, and joined a bowling league for a time.

After college, Anderson had considered working for the United Nations, going to culinary school, or going back to Brazil to take over the family business. He chose to support his family and work in Brazil. He met his wife-to-be during his last year at college and they began dating a month before he graduated and left for work in Brazil. Anderson had many Christian friends, and their love convinced him to seriously consider the claims of Jesus Christ and the Bible. While Anderson was in Brazil in 2003, he prayed to receive Jesus Christ as his Savior.

Anderson went back and forth from Brazil to California for three years after he graduated from college. He would spend 3 months in Brazil, one month in California, and then go back to Brazil for another three months, all the while his relationship with his girlfriend, Tiffany Ng, continue to grow with the help of the internet and webcam.

His battle with brain cancer began in California in October of 2006 and ended in Texas on July 22, 2009. While struggling with and enduring cancer treatment through multiple recurrences, his body became weaker, but his relationship with Tiffany grew stronger and deeper. On January 10, 2009, he married his best friend and soul mate, Tiffany. Their marriage was short, but rich. Their sacrificial love was special and precious; it was a love that inspires others to love one another more. It was a love that grew deeper and stronger in the face of adversity. Just as the Bible describes it, their love was from God who enabled them to love because He first loved them.

Anderson was a blessing to all who knew him and always seemed to lighten and brighten everyone around him with his smile, his unique sense of humor and way with words. He had a big heart and always put others before himself. He loved his family and friends very much, and in his battle with cancer, he had no fear of death;.his concerns were for those he would leave behind. Anderson had always been a generous and faithful friend, and he remained that way to the end. He lived a life full of love and laughter despite tremendous physical pain and sorrow for leaving his wife and family so early in life. His motto was to do it once and do it right, for we all only live only once. It is evident that Anderson did it right and did it quick. Surely Jesus welcomed Anderson by telling him “Well done, Anderson, my good and faithful servant!”

We look forward to seeing you again in heaven, Anderson Yi Kwan Chen. (end of eulogy)

I miss you, husband. Can't wait to see you again.

Day 14

Two weeks. I can't believe it's only been 14 days since Anderson went to be with the Lord. Numbers shmumbers... it feels like we've been separated for months.

It's getting closer and closer to his memorial service. A big part of me wants to say something at his service, but I know that I won't be able to. I'm not a talker. When people ask me how I'm doing or whether or not I want to talk about it... I can barely utter the words, "I'm not ready yet" before the tears start to well up and blur my vision. If only I could just carry a computer with me and just type out my thoughts and have it speak for me. Actually, I kind of think that's what Anderson did for me. He knew my thoughts and he knew me well enough to speak for me when I couldn't... with the added benefit of having his smooth-talking filter soften up my often-too-blunt-for-comfort words.

I think maybe what bothers me (mildly) is that the people who are speaking at his service... they only knew parts of him, but I know so much more about his whole person than anyone else. The things he kept from the public... we shared during our nighttime talks. He told me his thoughts 100% unfiltered. Most of all, we talked about love. We talked about how much we loved each other probably more than anything else. Words weren't even enough to convey our love to one another. We were always looking for new and better ways to love each other. We talked about God and everything we saw Him doing in our lives. We talked about the ugly things too. We talked about our pain. We talked about the future we wanted here on earth... together. We cried together. We had joy together. We lived out our wedding vows to the fullest... for as long as we both lived.

I want to tell everyone about him. I want everyone to know the Anderson and I know... or knew. I want so badly to share but as much as I try to put it into words... they don't ever seem adequate, accurate, or vivid enough to describe my Anderson and the life he lived.

On February 12, 2009... we journaled together about the work that God's done in us. This is what he wrote on the topic (I transcribed as he spoke):
I feel like I'm a changed person, a better person. God's made me see things I thought I would never see & experience things I've never experienced. I've grown so much.

In the hospital, he kept saying how everything he'd experienced... seemed to give him glasses to see things he never saw before. How some things, like God and family, became so clearly important and all the lesser things faded away into the background.

On February 13th, we journaled about what kind of tree we are. Yeah it's a weird question but here was his response:
I wish I had more leaves to protect people from the heat. I'm not always a strong tree. I need help. I need another tree to help me.

I could be wrong, but I think that I'm his helper tree. Maybe we just intertwined and became one tree. I imagine it to be something like this


Maybe I'll try again to write about him tomorrow.

Day 13

I'm having a hard time thinking about him and talking about him today. There was a time where I couldn't stop thinking/talking about him, but today I just didn't want to uncover that part of me. Lots of things make me think of him, but the words just wouldn't come out.

My friends and I went out for dinner and yogurt tonight. I almost felt like nothing had changed... except for those moments when I was reminded of him and then I just kept those thoughts to myself. It's like... when you're happy, you want to share that happiness with your favorite person. If you can't be with your favorite person, you almost don't want to be happy. Almost feel guilty for having a happy moment without them. Sigh. Not everyday is like this. And I'm sorry I only seem to blog when I'm having a particularly emotional moment.

I did an exercise video last night. I used to do it in the living room in Texas and he'd watch me. Sometimes he'd say I looked so "cute" when I exercise. I think that's code for "ridiculous" but it becomes cute when it's your favorite person doing it.

I've been keeping busy. Lots of paperwork and organizational things to take care of before I register for classes next week. I will have a very full day tomorrow as well. I should shower and sleep now.

Day 12 - Longing

I wasn't planning on posting tonight. I was so tired after coming back from retreat. It wasn't the actual retreat that wore me out. I think it's partly because I haven't had much time at home to unpack, settle in, and just be myself. I still feel like I'm living out of a suitcase. This past weekend was our church family camp and after being foreigners in Texas for the past few months, I was glad to see familiar faces and fellowship with my church family. Some of these people, I've grown up with for the past 20 years... some I'm just meeting for the first time. Anyway, it was nice to see everyone and also spend some more time with my family.

After watching a short video that Anderson sent me from Brazil in 2007 and the subsequent waterfall of tears and rush of emotions, I've decided to write about longing today. For the first three years of our relationship, Anderson and I longed for each other across North and South America. I kept letters, emails, pictures, videos all around me as reminders of him to soothe my longing and remind me of what lay ahead when we were reunited. These reminders always used to ease my longing heart... but now, they only seem to strengthen the intensity of the pain, the yearning, the longing for reunion.

I did finally get those audio files that Anderson recorded for me prior to the Arizona trip I took a few years back. I thought that hearing his voice again would make my heart happier, but it only made my heart hurt more. He talked to me about all the things we'd do when I got back... the big hug he'd give me when I came home... how much he missed me. I remember laying in my sleeping bag a few years ago, listening to those recordings and just beaming with joy. Hearing those same recordings a few days ago... I remember curling up in agony as my heart seemed to collapse on itself.

I used to hope that Jesus wouldn't come for us until I'd gotten married, had kids, and started my own home. Now I long for that day. I long for the day that the trumpets sound and we ascend to heaven. I long the way I should have been longing for heaven all along. Once again, God has used Anderson to open my heart and teach me what it means (and what it feels like) to love God even more. The love Anderson and I shared, was but a mere glimpse of the love that God the Father feels for us. Anderson was my gift... my glimpse of God's love for me... our beautiful love is like a pittance in comparison to the vastness of God's unconditional love. Similarly, my longing for reunion with Anderson in heaven, as strong as I feel it now, is only for one small part of the beauty, richness, and joy that heaven promises to be.

I see pictures of him everywhere and I still can't believe that he's not just 7 miles down the freeway in Hacienda Heights. It really feels like it used to... before we were married... when I'd be at my home and him at his... only... I can't call him, text him, or IM him anymore. Every time I see a picture, I'm hit with a brief flash of love and joy followed by the harsh realization, like a slap in the face, that he's not here anymore.

I'm still reading C.S. Lewis's A Grief Observed. In the book, and in others I've read, the loss of a loved one is like an amputation. You don't get over it... you can't get over it; you learn to live with it... or more like live without it. I imagine myself as an amputee... my heart and soul cut in half... but for the purpose of imagery... let's say my arm was amputated. I could lay there in bed, closing my eyes, trying to remember what it felt like to have that arm again. I could look back at pictures and try to recreate those moments. I could try my whole life to live in the past... live in the "glory" days, but none of my trying will ever make that arm grow back. That arm is no longer there, no longer connected to me, no longer receiving life's blood, no longer growing old with me or helping me through the day. Things I used to use that arm for... simple things like getting dressed... things I took for granted and never thought about... I'm suddenly acutely aware of my deficits, my loss, and how "good" I used to have it when it was still there.

I come back to the longing again. I can either... long for the past or long for the future. God has promised eternal life for those who believe. He says that in heaven, there is no more tears, no more pain, and that we will have new bodies... glorified bodies. Not really sure what they'll be like, but I'm pretty sure that if there's no more tears and no more pain, then either our bodies are restored, or we will live in heaven in such a way as the things that limited us on earth no longer apply in heaven. Jesus still had nail marks in his hands and feet, but no pain... and he walked through walls. I digress. Longing.

Is it cold if I choose not to continue to long for what I had in the past? Would you want an amputee to spend their days and nights longing for their amputated limb?

It is my logic and my conscious decision to long not for what I had on this earth, but to long for what is promised me in heaven. I choose to pick myself up, keep my eyes looking ahead, and live the rest of my life making the most out of what limbs I have left. I choose to long for heaven, where the ultimate reunion will take place... where no one, no distance, no cancer can ever separate us again... for an eternity. Intellectually, I choose. Heart and head though... will not always align.

We don't really want grief, in its first agonies, to be prolonged: nobody could. But we want something else of which grief is a frequent symptom, and then we confuse the symptom with the thing itself... bereavement is not the truncation of married love but one of its regular phases-like the honeymoon. What we want is to live our marriage well and faithfully through that phase too. If it hurts (and it certainly will) we accept the pains as a necessary part of this phase... We were one flesh. Now that it has been cut in two, we don't want to pretend that it is whole and compete. We will be still married, still in love. Therefore we shall still ache. But we are not at all... seeking the aches for their own sake. The less of them the better, so long as the marriage is preserved. And the more joy there can be in the marriage between dead and living, the better. -C.S. Lewis

I haven't quite figured myself out... and I also haven't quite figured out this quote that I just put here, but I'm working on understanding them both.

And now that I've unloaded a string of thoughts and the tears have stopped falling... I think I can sleep. Good night!