Time Heals EVERYTHING!

It’s been a month since I started to blog (and I took time off for the holiday) but during that time I realized that blogging for me is writing about what is happening in my life now and what I am learning. So, from this post on I will be blogging from my heart… ENJOY!

The saying, “time heals all wounds,” feels like a platitude at best to a person suffering from the loss of a loved one, or who has experienced a deep wound from a friend. But recently I have come to believe that this saying is absolutely true, as long as you are open to being healed.

In my early 40s my husband and I left a ministry that we had been part of for most of our adult lives. We left for reasons that, at the time, seemed insurmountable. It was a bad time in our lives, to put it mildly. We lost everything that we held dear, including many long-term relationships. A friend, who had left the same ministry 6 years prior, tried to give me perspective. She told me that in time, none of this would remain important. But I just could not believe her. It seemed to me like this was a lifetime loss. The hurts were too deep and time would never be able to heal them. However, as the years passed I pondered this loss less and less. And with each passing year the memory of the hurts began to fade.

Our world is often a very small place until we leave it. At one time everyone I knew was somehow connected to the ministry I was involved in. But once I left and ventured out beyond those walls, not very many people had ever even heard of it. I was amazed at how big the world actually is and how small my world seemed in comparison. Time and space had a big impact on healing this once gaping wound.

Fast forward 8 years…

I was recently invited to attend a very special event for someone I was friends with during that time. I had not heard from this person in 8 years, but my love for him had never changed. I was pleased to be on the invitation list (although I was admittedly nervous about how I would be received). As the date of the event approached, I found myself looking forward to seeing old friends and finding that place of complete healing. Much to my delight I was received with open arms and many “it’s so good to see you(s)!” At the end of the evening I left with the profound understanding that time actually does heal EVERYTHING.

This gives me hope for other hurts that are still in the “healing” phase. The hurts that seem to bristle me at every turn. The loss that is often still so raw that I think I will always feel this way. This gives me hope that if enough space and time is placed between me and the situation then I will see some type of reconciliation unless…

Is there something we can do to keep time from doing its healing work?

Healing of a wound does not require that you simply “get over it” or pretend it didn’t happen. Time doesn’t heal the wound because you decided to let go or you didn’t ruminate over it for what seems like eternity. Time heals everything as long as you allow it to. This means that you have to be willing to let time heal you. You have to not carry past hurts on your chest like some badge of honor for the rest of your life. You have to be willing to forgive the hurts of the past, even while they still hurt. And then you just simply have to wait…

“Pray for those who mistreat you,” (Luke 6:28 NIV) and let time bring about healing and reconciliation.

Changing Against Your Will

My daughter, Maddie (Right), and her friend,
Brittney, on Graduation Day

"You're on your own.
And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy
who'll decide where to go."
Oh The Places You'll Go!  - by Dr. Seuss

There are times in our lives when we get to (or have to) redefine ourselves; Rights of passages like graduation from high school or college where we get a chance to enter a new world and are filled with anticipation for what lies ahead. However, sometimes the change is not welcomed, but rather forced upon us. Perhaps the change is due to a lay-off, a growing family, a divorce or even the death of a child or a spouse. These are the times where change, although inevitable, is greeted with anxiety and fear.

When my husband died I was told by a grief counselor that I would become someone new. I would not be the same person I was before Jon died. I did not think of this as a good thing. I was comfortable with who I was. I didn't want to change. In fact, I hated the thought that I would change no matter what I wanted. 

The reality was that my life could not be the same because a part of me died that day, too. The interesting thing is that I am usually the person who likes change. I have changed careers (not just jobs) more than I can even count. I changed roommates (and rooms) during my young adult years about 13 times. And never once did I view it as a bad thing. Instead, I thought of it as "getting to remake myself." Or getting a fresh start! It was all sort of an adventure. I could learn from the mistakes of the past and take my "better self" into my future.

"You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself
any direction you choose. - Dr. Seuss

This time was different, because although I would be the person choosing who I was to become, I didn't want this change. My life was spinning out of control and I felt somewhat like a teenager again; Trying on different persona's to see which one felt right. I spent a lot of time just looking for fun. Not harmful fun, but something that would lighten the moment. Something that would make changing more palatable. Interestingly, as I tried new things, I realized that I WAS beginning to change. 

In my pre-widowed state, I was content to spend the rest of my life just drinking a nice glass of wine on the porch each night, taking long walks with my husband and planning my weekly dinner out with friends or family. But as a widow I began to discover new things about myself. I no longer wanted to spend my free time watching the news or hanging around the house. I discovered that my joy of exercise translated into a need to be active. Though I am definitely not athletic, I tried a few sports including kickball (that I quit because I was bringing down my team) and running (that I had a love-hate relationship with) and even tennis. I have to say that after just 2 years of trying things I have found 2 things that I really enjoy - cycling and tennis. I'm not great at either, but I have so much fun "working at it." 

Image courtesy of twobee / freedigitalphotos.net

I also figured out that I am not "Ms. Excitement!" I used to think that I was "boring" because my husband was so quiet. But I realized that I prefer the quiet life to the party scene and would rather spend time with a few good friends talking about the "deep meaning of life" than with a room full of partying strangers. 

So as it turns out, my counselor was right - I am no longer the person I was 2 years ago. I want to encourage you to look at the unwelcome changes in your life and instead of refusing to change, begin to embrace the change. Think of it as an opportunity to find new things within yourself that you never knew were there!

You're off the Great Places! Today is your day! Your mountain is waiting. So...get on your way! - Dr. Seuss

Marvin K. Mooney will you please go now!!!

Image courtesy of Tina Phillips / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Have you ever had a hurt that went so deep and lasted so long that it left you feeling like it would never end? A hurt that made you want to the shout from the rooftop the infamous words of Dr. Seuss?

"The time has come. The time is now.

Just go. Go. Go!

I don't care how.

You can go by foot. You can go by cow.

Marvin K. Mooney will you please go now!"

- Dr. Seuss, Marvin K. Mooney Will You Please Go Now

How long does it take for a deep heartache to heal? The short answer is "as long as it takes." But if someone tells you this when you are seriously hurting it is just a platitude at best. When your heart has been broken due to death, or stomped on by someone you once cared for and trusted, finding that place of healing is often a long painful process.

Back in my early 40s (yes, I'm really that old) I suffered what I considered my first real loss. Or, more affectionately, what I like to call the beginning of "my great sadness;" to coin a phrase from Mackenzie Philips the main character in The Shack by William P. Young. I had contracted a friend to build a house and, without sharing too much, it ended badly. In the process we were sued, I lost a good friend, and it took almost 5 years to truly come to an end. I was so filled with anxiety from the start that even 4+ years later I re-played conversations in my mind, over and over again. And each time it re-played I was taken back to that very moment in time and felt the exact same painful emotions.

I had a friend at the time who said to me, "You have never really been through anything hard, but once you have it gets easier to go through the next hard thing." She could not have known what my future held. But over the next 10 years I often thought about those words. As I experienced one hardship upon another I began to see that my friend was right, hard things do get easier once you have been through a lot of them. Is it because you grow callous to bad things happening? Or that you don’t feel the pain as real as you did before? No, you still feel the depth of pain for your loss, but you understand in your deepest being that “time will some day heal this wound.”

When you are new to your loss or pain, don’t try to not feel it, or try to rush it, but simply let it take its course and perhaps find some solace in the knowledge that at the appointed time, you will find a place of true and lasting healing.

“I said GO, and GO I meant...

The time had come

...SO Marvin WENT." – Dr. Seuss

My very first post!

Welcome! This is my very first post and I am excited to share the new alphabet that I have discovered during the past 10 years. The letter you see on the top of the page is from ON BEYOND ZEBRA by Dr. Seuss. It is the letter called Yuzz. This book, though just a childhood poem, opened my mind to a new way of thinking, observing, doing and, ultimately, being.

Who I am or I am who?

I am Barbara Tegart, my family (and friends who knew me as a kid) call me Barbi. I prefer Barb. I am the mother of 3 young adults (Chelsea – 22, Spenser – 20, Madeline – 18) and one really sweet grandson (Hayden). I work at a public school as an administrative assistant and am also the district web person. I have a Bachelor’s Degree in Business with a Minor in web design – which is why my job is a great match! Additionally, I am an ordained minister and have been schooled over and over in the world of life!

But really, these are just titles and responsibilities. The reality is that I am a woman who, up until 10 years ago, lived what I like to refer as “a charmed life.” I had the great marriage, the well behaved kids, many opportunities to speak into the lives of women, a good job, a nice home… I had the life I had always dreamed of until…

Jon, my wonderful amazing husband of 22 years, learned that he had cancer (ocular melanoma) in the winter of 2007. Between 2007 and 2010 he was fine. Doctors told us to go home and “live without cancer” which we did. But when it travelled to his liver in July of 2010 we knew that we only had a few months left. He died on October 12, 2010. Part of me died that day, too.

I thought that I would never be able to “breathe” again. I felt like my life was over and wished many times that I had died in his place. My perfect little life was crumbling around me. I watched as my children struggled with this loss and many of the residual losses that happen as a result of death. I didn’t really know how to heal myself, or them, but I tried. Every single day I forced myself out of bed and off to work. I made myself reach out for help from my awesome, patient friends and family. I joined a grief group and got counseling. And I cried and grieved out loud for most of the first 18 months.

Then it happened. It’s not like I woke up one day and proclaimed “I am healed!” But rather, I realized that I was no longer thinking the same way, or seeing things the same way. I didn’t have to force anything anymore; I truly wanted to live again!

What it all means

Living again is not so much picking up where I left off, but learning to go beyond “Z.” It is re-defining who I am and what I want out of life. I had to let go of many things whether I wanted to or not, and begin to move towards my new alphabet.

"When you go beyond Zebra, Who knows…?
There’s no telling
What wonderful things
You might find yourself spelling!” – Dr. Seuss, On Beyond Zebra

This blog is part of my new alphabet. I am starting my alphabet with the letter YUZZ!