Resilience in Action.

The art of showing up when life gets hard.

Here I sit, I’ve stepped away from dinner dishes for a few moments, needing to get something from my mind through my fingers.

These past couple weeks I’ve been hit hard. Not with life or anything on the outside. But the heaviness of grief lurks behind every corner, in every conversation, under every occurrence and happening of the day. Most of the time I can live with it, for it has become my companion. An unwelcome friend who I’ve learned to live with. But sometimes he gets the upper hand.

The waves of life threating to consume.

This grief comes in many forms. Those first days and months after Mike died it was in the shape of loss of him. Of everything that had to do with him. Then other losses started to claim their prize: loss of friends, loss of dreams, loss of a career and a way of life. Other losses too many to name. So many things that took the form of not being there anymore.

Even in the wake of new life, of a new incredible marriage to an incredible man with incredible children, there is grief. Loss of a past with him and them. Loss of memories they all shared that I don’t have. And more.

So. much. loss.

And the better life seems to get, the heavier the loss feels.

For when things were just so-so and I found my groove as a widow, there was a knowing that things would, for lack a better term, suck. And pain was normal and I knew how to operate under those familiar conditions.

But now that life has color again, containing a spark and a joy not known for so long, I find that in between the cracks of those sparks lurks a darkness threatening to claim even more than before.

Like at diner tonight.

It was such a great day. A wonderful weekend in fact, the best one in a long time. We’ve come out of a few weeks of trials and things going wrong (and subsequent stress that follows) and we’re back in a good swing of things.

Despite the sun and laughter today, despite the kisses from my husband and hugs from my kids, despite a good workout and snuggling with my dogs, the dark cloud of grief blew in with a gust of wind, this time disguised as flash of something from the past.

And I feel it settling. And I exhale. And I know what’s coming next.

Heaviness. Sadness. Pain. Anger. Needing to step away so the kids don’t see my countenance change (I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve, although I’m learning to disguise that, too). I used to write through my grief, tears typing the words just as much as my fingers. Then I slowly stopped doing that…But I thought I’d do it again this time. Because I want you to know that there is one thing I’ve maybe mastered…

It’s how to show up when life gets hard.

When you have no option other than showing up.

I have no control when loss or grief or the effects of death take their toll. But I do have control what to do after it happens, at least now I do.

When the waves would first come, I knew I couldn’t brace against them. They were too big. And so I’d do whatever felt natural in the moment: retreat to the living room and lay on the couch, if the kids were gone I’d sit on the kitchen floor and cry. Sometimes I’d just remain silent or maybe I’d blast some music. It just depended.

But I still showed up the best I could.

I had to as a parent, since I was both mom and dad. I didn’t have the luxury of saying, “hey, can you take the kids while I take a nap??” It was me and I for them, and so I’d have to find ways of showing up despite the pain that flattened me out.

And even after I found love again and got married and the grief still lurked, this time in new forms that caught me off guard, I had to find ways to keep showing up because it was almost more important to do so than before. I had new kids and a new life that we were trying to establish and my own stuff just couldn’t get in the way. Sure, I’m human and humans feel things but we were all feeling things and I had to be present, fully present.

So, why don’t I walk you through some practical tips, things I did when life consumes me, both then and now. You may not have lost a spouse but you do have something that threatens to steal your joy and presence, you do have something that lurks and strikes when least expecting it, too.

How to find peace and perseverance when life gets challenging.

First things first, don’t shove it down.

This one used to be easy for me. Maybe I read it somewhere, but I knew my grief would have to come out at some point and if I shoved it down it would just build and build and come out later in (maybe) destructive ways. And so I’d let myself feel everything. I would let it come and I’d imagine myself sitting in the muck that was that moment and I’d do whatever felt normal and natural to get through it (within moral bounds, might I add…)

But now that’s not so easy. I don’t necessarily have the luxury of letting myself feel everything coming up, nor should I. Because the evil one knows my weak points and I’d probably be sitting in that muck 24/7 if I paid attention to every hard moment or difficult thought. When loss looms at dinner, sometimes I just have to put on a smile and dish up honey mustard chicken.

So, how do I reconcile the two things: not shoving it down while also not giving it full attention??

I learned this one the hard way. But take it from me, it can be done.

If I’m in a moment or place where I can’t give my thoughts or feelings attention, I will push them aside for a bit. I will attempt to keep my interior disposition as peaceful as possible. Not easy, I know. I can’t fake a smile to save my life, just ask the kids! But I will finish out my task to the best of my ability until I can find some time alone. And this next step is where I found the gold.

You see, even after finding time alone, I used to just ride the hard moments out and let it pass but I realized that there are still fragments that pile up and get shoved down. Fragments that become straws that break the camel’s back. I’d grit my teeth and the hard thing would dissipate but the effects still lingered and after a few days of that, I’d snap at the littlest thing and it’d take me a couple days to recover. Not a fun cycle.

And so, at the first chance I get, even after pushing it aside if I have to, I now bring to light what settles in the depths. Not because human nature needs darkness exposed but the spiritual nature does. I don’t mind dealing with hard life stuff but when it becomes fuel for the fire of the evil one to throw darts at me (using those broken parts of me to plant lies) that’s where I draw the line. Not because I’m strong, but because I’m weak. And my weakness makes me do dumb stuff.

So last night, after I retreated from dishes and made my way to the bedroom for some solace, I didn’t let the silence (or pity party) linger too long. I called Alex back to the room and instead of pretending I was OK (secretly hoping he’d notice I was off and comfort me… which works about half the time, the other half he freaks out not knowing why I’m upset and then I get offended and then it doesn’t end well yikes) I just flat out told him, “hey, I’m kind of having a hard moment and it’s about this one thing I thought of at the dinner table…”

And in that moment of bringing to light what was sitting in the dark, the simple advice from my spiritual director made perfect sense. “Don’t shove it down,” he said. And I didn’t and there were no fragments left behind. None. That weed just sprouting, pulled up from the root. No straws left to break my back.

If you don’t have anyone to talk to, and you have a reoccurring difficult thing that keeps coming up in your life troubling your peace, write it down. Say it out loud to yourself. Bring it to prayer. Or do whatever you need to to not shove it down.

OK, so what next?

After quickly bringing to light what you’re struggling with (whether to someone, in a journal, to God in prayer), pay attention to what you need next while also not giving it too much thought. We want to honor our bodies and what they go through during the hard stuff while also not catering to every single one of our emotions. Sometimes a nap is OK, sometimes binge watching your favorite show is OK, but sometimes you just need to throw on hot pink lipstick and move on. It’s a balance. Life takes a lot out of us and, like I said, we’re human…but God also calls us to service, charity, perfection in our state in life despite what we’re feeling or going through.

Actually, if we can find service, charity, perfection in our state in life despite what we’re going through, then that is holiness. That is taking up our cross and following in His footsteps. Anyone can love when life is easy. It takes being a saint to love when life gets hard. And being a saint is what we’re all called to be.

And so we take that break (like for me, pausing some writing for a bit and those big house projects I wanted to tackle) and then we pick ourselves up and move forward. Just do it. One foot in front of the other. Get dressed, pull yourself together, find that strength, and go be a light. Because breaks and rest and tears are good and necessary but serving, keeping on, and showing up are required.

Keep it simple: be a saint.

I’m sure I could offer even more advice and steps for how to show up when life gets hard but I’m feeling the need to keep it simple. Step 1) Don’t shove it down, get your struggles out into the light, even if it’s just presenting them to the Light of Christ. Step 2) decided if you need a (healthy) break of some sort or to pick yourself up and move on. (The body sometimes needs the former, the soul needs the latter…)

And if that advice is even too much, show up anyway. Toss aside the pity party, ask God for virtue and charity no matter what you’re feeling. We are Church Militant, for goodness's sake. We’re going to be in a battle until the day we die. Laying in the trenches often happens but then we need to climb out and keep fighting. For peace, fortitude, long-suffering, prudence, for faith, hope, and love.

And in this battle and because of this battle we will become the one thing our crosses are creating us to be: saints.

Love, Kristine

PS: in case you missed it, this piece might help if you’re struggling.

Why bad things happen to good people - on the problem of evil in our lives.

And if you’re new here and want to know a bit of my story…

A Journey I never knew I’d take - How walking my spouse to heaven then and now has unfolded to be the most beautiful journey of my life.

My Narrow Way - How the cross has become my one constant companion in this journey of life...

Let's get to the good stuff, shall we? - How resurrection can be a real thing in your life and mine.