Tag: Grief

THE WAY †, Travel, Wander

Remembering in May

adacostauf

Sometimes I struggle. Some days more than others.

But every year, like clockwork, the worst month for me is probably May. May is for celebrating women who absolutely deserve it. The strongest ones, the hardest workers, the most caring: Moms. Mother’s Day.

And every year, like clockwork, there are hundreds – if not thousands – of ads for it.

Ads for sales. Ads suggesting what to get your mama.

Ads reminding many of us… How much we miss ours. How much we wish we could celebrate it ourselves.

In fact, if there was a way to do a bulk unsubscribe to emails and ads mentioning Mother’s Day, I bet you there would be a lot of takers.

Not because we don’t want to celebrate it. But because… we really miss our reason to and/or wish we had a reason to. I think I can speak for the batch of us that are in this arena; this isn’t a bitterness we want to have.

My mom passed away when I was 12. It was a lifetime ago, and thousands of memories ago, and you would think… this would go away. But every year, this month, I am acutely aware.

I wonder what we would’ve done if she was here. I wonder where she would’ve wanted to eat. I wonder what I would’ve bought her. I wonder what advice she’d have for me.

I wonder if I could have one of her hugs. Because sometimes I can’t remember her exact voice, and sometimes I can’t remember her precise laugh; but I will always remember the feel of her hugs.

I remember her kindness. I remember how she’d lean back in her royal blue desk chair while she was on the phone, a smile on her face. I remember watching her pull a homeless man out of a dumpster so she could give him food. I remember the countless thousands of dollars she lost in her job as an attorney, because she believed in families and did lots of pro bono work for her clients.

I remember her love for Jesus, and how important it was to her that I knew He would never leave me.

I remember her reading a book about pirates to me in the back of my grandparents RV as we were driving home from the Keys when I was really little. I think this is why I’m borderline obsessed with pirate history.

I remember her love for adventure. Pulling me out of school so we could go on cruises or road trips. She loved a good resort and a staycation. She loved adventure.

I’ve fought with myself over it as an adult. Because I want to plan and I want to go, but I feel guilty because…adulting.

But this is something my Poppie (my mom’s dad, a master of the sea, the air, and adventurer), instilled in her. And I like to think I inherited it from both of them. We need to go to breathe.

So on Sunday, on Mother’s Day, I threw things in a suitcase, got in my car, and drove. I drove south. As far south as I could possibly drive until I got tired (Key Largo), then a couple of days later, I drove as far south as I could until I was closer to Cuba than the mainland of the United States.

I prayed. I listened to fun music, to sad music, to reggae music. I wrote. I missed her. I cried. I tried to remember things, but also kept myself busy so I wasn’t stuck in my grief. I went to museums and learned about pirates. I discovered that chocolate covered key lime pie on a stick from Kermit’s is really the only way to eat the dessert of Florida from here on out (I still love you, Publix).

I swam in the sea. I dealt with a really mean lady that had me questioning life and met the nicest people who reassured me that the majority of people are great.

It was an experience.

It was something my mama would’ve loved. And Poppie, for that matter.

And my last day there, I found a contentment. A peace. Because I knew that aside from my struggles, my fears, my sadness and my mistakes – Jesus was with me. He showed me grace. He showed me beautiful days and beautiful sunsets and the kindness of others. And that I don’t have to be in control.

That even though I really miss having my mom here, my grandparents here, that I’m still a daughter. And I have a Father in Heaven who has never left me and never will.

He showed me it’s ok to grieve this. It’s ok to sit in the hurt, and move how I need to and go wherever the road (Jesus) might lead… Because maybe by living, and soul-searching, and going on random adventures is how I can remember my mom, my whole family best. They weren’t scared of living and living life to the fullest.

And hopefully, one day, I will get to teach my daughter(s) to do the same.

THE WAY †

Jesus & Charlie

adacostauf

I’ve written and rewritten this.

I’ve written from a place of horror: I saw the video of him being shot. It’s something I wish I’d never seen.

I’ve written from a place of reaction: A friend didn’t have the empathy I needed him to have, and it dumbfounded me.

I’ve written from a place of explanation: Why Charlie? Why, out of all the murders and horrors, was he getting the attention? (Because that viral, horrible, gruesome video where millions of us watched it)… And maybe something else. But that’s for another time.

But now I write to you as someone who, up until just over two weeks ago, didn’t really know about Charlie Kirk. I’ve seen bits and pieces on the news and social media, but I wasn’t too familiar.

I’m an American. Safe to say, no matter one’s political registration, we all have friends and family who have strong opinions on one side or the other. I dance down the line of people pleasing, (because I hate drama).

But my values?

My values.

The news gives me anxiety. I’m not obsessed with it. I follow Jesus. That’s the lead of my values. I love Jesus with all of my heart, and the Bible says to pray for your leaders (1 Timothy 2:1-2), so I adhere to that. Maybe not as often as I should.

But Charlie.

Charlie Kirk. A virtual stranger two weeks ago. Someone I have wept and prayed for (his family), nearly every day since September 10th.

This feels different. This feels spiritual.

I should know better than to look at comments. Some in the same boat I am, utterly horrified and grieved over someone they’ve never met – because they saw it.

Some celebrating it, justifying it. Which is utterly beyond me. What kind of world are we in that so many people can be happy about the assassination of man who never harmed anyone, but only wanted to create dialogue?

For me, my counselor explained that seeing the video of his assassination is indeed trauma and does alter your brain chemistry. Even though I didn’t know him.

I’m familiar with having your brain chemistry altered due to loss. My mom and grandparents are in Heaven.

But this… still feels different.

A man was brutally murdered in front of hundreds of college campuses. I’ve heard that his little daughter tried to run to him because she was scared of the sound of the shot (that gutted me). A young man, close in age to me by a matter of months. A man with a beautiful, strong wife, and two little ones.

A man who tried to create open dialogue. Who was willing to peacefully hear and work with the other side. Even those (with consciences) on the political opposing side admire how he was respectful.

Don’t get me wrong. I’ve seen the clips. The ones that are criticized. The cropped clips. Because, I have a degree in journalism. I dig. The clips that one side of the news media shows you are – more than likely – always cropped and out of context to get their audience to be outraged. It worked. It worked so well that an innocent man died because of it. Because those claims? They’re taken so far out of context that it would be almost funny if it wasn’t terrifying.

And I hear you. Both sides of the spectrum do it to different people. Do your research. Look for the context. Never take the biased news at its word. Definitely don’t take Tik Tok snippets at their word. If there’s a clip of someone saying something that sets you off – deliberately try to prove the truth of it. Look for the context. And maybe be surprised at how much the media twists things by cropping a fragment, and then sways you with their biased commentary. For some, you just get angry. For the demons, they bring out a bullet or rejoice over it.

Because this, this out of everything, isn’t political. It’s not right vs. left, though it feels like it should be. He leaned one way, right?

No.

It’s a battle of good vs. evil.

If you’re scoffing and saying it had to be political: Look at the response, the demons rejoice (because only evil rejoices when innocent is slain). Then look at his memorial, viewed by tens of millions. His memorial where, social media dubbed Avengers of worship (Phil Wickham, Brandon Lake, Cody Carnes, Kari Job, Tiffany Hudson, and Chris Tomlin). Where every speaker essentially pointed to one thing: Jesus.

Charlie Kirk. If your legacy is such that it leads to dozens and dozens of people sharing the Gospel at your memorial, then what a legacy to have. If your legacy is such that your life and death were the catalyst for revival, then what a legacy to have. If your memorial causes millions of people around the world to hear the Gospel repeated over and over, then, my goodness, I know you heard the words, “Well done, good and faithful servant.” (Matthew 25:23) As your beloved wife said, you blinked, and you saw Jesus.

It was an honor to watch the memorial. I watched the hours of worship by some of my favorite Christian artists. I watched stranger after stranger, person after person, politician after politician, a grieving, yet unbelievably strong widow, the leader of the free world… I watched every single one of them stand on a stage and give one message: Charlie wanted the world to know Jesus. Charlie lived his life for Jesus. Charlie wanted people saved… even the kid who ended his life.

But that kid didn’t end Charlie’s life. He just sent him to the beginning of eternity. He wanted to silence him, but instead, there’s revival.

And then I think of the one I do follow. The one who was loved by many but hated by so many – to the point where they crucified Him. To the point where they rejoiced over His death and tried to hide the fact of His resurrection. They were deeply, unfortunately, confused in their pride, thinking they had it right. Thinking that they followed God’s law to a T, because they were the experts – and here was this…man. Claiming He knew more about their God – even going so much as to call Him His Father! How dare He, right? This man who was causing disturbances, inconvenient crowds, daring to welcome (and heal) lepers, the blind and lame. He flipped over tables and called the self-righteous hypocrites. They tried to trap Him. They finally got someone to lie about Him. Then they sentenced Him to death. Yet on the bloody cross, Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” (Luke 23:24, NIV) Because while they thought they knew it all, they were blind. But Jesus saw, and He saw them. And it wasn’t the Pharisees, Sadducees, or Pontius Pilate, who ultimately killed Him. It was our sins that were the reason He came, and His amazing love that held Him there. Jesus laid His life down…for them. For us.

But Jesus.

He is risen, indeed. He came here for the whole world, because He loved it so much. He came here, knowing our pride, knowing our sorrows, bearing our grief, and sins, and sicknesses. He came here knowing how confused we are. He came here for us. He died for us. And He conquered death and the grave, for all eternity. Because half of us might be grieving now, half of us might be in turmoil now, but to all who “confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved.” (Romans 10:9, ESV)

In the words of Dr. Frank Turek, “Charlie, right now, is in Heaven. Not because he was a great husband & father. Not because he sacrificed for his Savior. Charlie Kirk is in Heaven, because his Savior sacrificed Himself for Charlie Kirk.”

This battle is good vs. evil. The enemy gloated when he thought the bullet succeeded. But Charlie lived his life in such a way that pointed to Christ, that people are returning to church, picking up their Bibles, seeking God. Revival is happening. Heaven is rejoicing!

Jesus has won the ultimate war. And everyone who accepts and follows Him gets to live for eternity. That message – the Gospel – was the ultimate priority of Charlie Kirk’s life.

“If the world hates you keep in mind that it hated me first.” – John 15:18, NIV

“But if it is from God, you will not be able to overthrow them. You may even find yourselves fighting against God!” – Acts 5:39, NLT

“For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in heavenly realms.” – Ephesians 6:12, NIV

“These will wage war against the Lamb, and the Lamb will overcome them because He is the Lord of lords and the King of kings; and those who are with Him are the called and chosen and faithful.” – Revelation 17:14

“He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever.” – Revelation 21:4, NLT

THE WAY †, Uncategorized

What Joy Means

adacostauf

What is the meaning of joy? What does it mean to you?

Is it happiness, elation, excitement? Is it something that happens when everything is going perfectly? You receive good news, and that triggers your joy?

Or does it run deeper, in a way that’s indescribable. Almost raw and bittersweet. Almost overwhelming. It’s every extreme, all rolled into one. You shouldn’t feel happy in the situation you’re in, and you don’t. Nothing is right in your world. But still, joy pursues you. It’s this innermost tug, that in the midst of your situation, you can still have hope. Maybe joy isn’t based on circumstance. Maybe it’s based on something else. Something far greater.

We like to bring up how “fear not” is mentioned hundreds of times in the Bible; one statement for every day of the year.

Did you realize that various versions of the word “joy” (“rejoice” or “joyful”) is mentioned in the Bible about 430 times? Happiness, the emotion based on circumstance, is only in the Bible roughly ten times (openthebible.org).

If telling us to “fear not” is so important to God that He’d give us that phrase for each day, how much more joy.

If you’re like me and love starting in Genesis and reading through your Bible starting January 1, highlight every version of the word “joy.” Study those verses. See how they meld. See the situations they were in and the grief and the overwhelming places. See all that King David went through, every way in how he messed up and fell short – but He understood how important joy is to God. See Jesus praying for us, praying that we would have His joy.

Joy is Jesus’. He spoke so that we could have His joy. Joy runs deeper, because for those in Christ, it’s a spiritual birthright.

We’re good at hearing so many sermons under the sun, we’re good at saying how cool Jesus is. We’re good at condemnation. Yet maybe the key that we’re missing, the message that needs to be displayed to the world, is that Jesus is love. He is peace, and hope, and salvation. And Jesus is joy.

It doesn’t make sense, but His way seldom looks like the world’s. He transcends it. He’s God. And joy is so important to God.

“If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in His love. These things I have spoken to you, that My joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full.” – John 15:10-11

THE WAY †, Wander

Through Sand & Waves

adacostauf

 

It’s amazing how God can use the smallest, simplest things in life to make the biggest impact. Growing up in Florida, I’ve walked by countless sea turtle nests and have never seen a hatchling. Until last night. I’d been dealing with some anxiety and the sun had finally come out after a pretty terrific rain storm – so I decided to do a prayer walk on the beach.

When I was ready to head back to my car, I noticed this tiny thing moving through the sand. My first instinct was that it was a crab. As I grew closer, I saw it was a turtle! A tiny hatchling. Just ploughing its little way through the sand in kind of a zig-zaggy, desperate manner. He looked determined and helpless at the same time.

I glanced around to see if there were more, or to see if I could find its nest – but I couldn’t. I also looked for other people to tell – because this was a turtle hatchling! How cool was this?! There weren’t any people close by. So I just watched as he made his way through the sand, seemingly covering himself with it – with every swipe of his flippers – yet he finally reached the sea. Then I watched – mesmerized – as the waves tossed him a bit – then he took off into the sunset (quite literally).

Then I was in awe. I was in awe of the instincts built into this tiny little creature. In awe that he seemed so determined to reach the ocean, even though he had no idea what it held for him. He had to get there. He somehow seemed to have faith that it would be ok. That it would be good. Even though he was this itty-bitty thing taking on a giant body of sand and crashing waves. He was cool with it. A bit of a hot mess but he was cool.

And Jesus used this little guy to get to me.

This has been probably the hardest, scariest year of my life. Because my whole immediate family is with Jesus, and it’s just me. I feel too young for this – to be left alone in this big world. To, in my mid-twenties, have no parents to ask advice of. To be brave. To handle all the adult things. To not have my precious loved ones to talk to and run home to.

So this little turtle hatchling taught me a lesson. Because, right now, I have no idea what my future holds. I can only handle tomorrow. I have goals and a list of things I have to do. I have dreams of how I’d love to help people learn about Jesus, what I’d like to write and where I’d love to travel. But it’s so unknown! Will the house I grew up in ever feel like a home again? Am I meant to wander for a while? Will I one day be blessed with a family of my own and sweet children I can name after my Mama and Papa? I wish I knew.

But God. God knows.

I have this hope. This one hope. That had I not been able to handle this, God wouldn’t have allowed it to happen. Had I been destined for the melancholy and depression – it would be so easy to fall into that. But I have this hope. That God has a purpose. He placed me here for a reason. Through every heartbreak and tragedy, I’ve ever been through – He has gotten me through. Through every time I’ve messed up, He’s demonstrated His grace in ways I’ve never thought imaginable.

While I might feel at my loneliest and most scared, He’s still right here. He’s never left me or forsaken me. And while I can’t see what the future holds because right now my sea is rough and I’m new to this chapter of my life, it is in His hands. He will see me through. He will bring out the sun and calm the storm. He’ll help me fight through the rough sand and find His peace beyond the waves. All the time, God is good. All the time, His love never fails. When I’m lonely, He’s never left me. When I’m afraid, He’s still in control. When I’m weak, His power works best in my weakness. And while I want to be sad and question everything, He’s still constant and good. Because He is the Everlasting Father who loves His children more than any of us are capable of understanding.

So why do we have to go through rough sand and rougher waves? This world is broken. It’s rough. It’s a fallen world filled with sin.

But we can cling to our faith – cling to our hope, that among these blinding grains of sand and rough waves there’s a Savior who sees. Who knows the future. He holds the keys to eternity in His hands and wants us to have joy on earth because we are His beloved children. He knows the future. Jesus sees. But even while we’re in the midst of sand and waves He’s here with us every step – or flipper swipe – of the way.