I have had an overwhelming sense of sadness lately and I haven't been able to quite put my finger on it.  Now sadness isn't new to me - as someone who deals with a mental health condition, feelings of melancholy can often be a constant companion.

No - these feelings were different.       These feelings were more than just sadness.    It's as if something was missing.      As if, although I stand here living and breathing, as if - life itself - was somehow missing.

And then it hit me.      I was missing.....well.....everything.

I miss planning a trip without the fear it will somehow be cancelled.
I miss seeing the smiles on peoples faces that are now often hidden.
I miss dining in a restaurant where everyone is treated the same.
And concerts.    Oh, how I miss concerts.    

But even deeper than that - I miss who we once were.

I miss comedians who could make fun of EVERYONE and EVERYONE would laugh
I miss movies when they were just movies and we could escape from reality for just a little while
I miss watching the news when they reported just the facts and we were allowed to form our own opinions
I miss being able to HAVE my own opinion
I miss neighbors helping neighbors
I miss kids playing outside
I miss families eating dinner together at the kitchen table
I miss standing for the flag
I miss men being able to open doors for women or call them beautiful
I miss politicians who served We the People instead of We the Lobbyists
I miss honest conversations with other people who share beliefs different from mine
I miss common sense
I miss when we had respect for one another
I miss when we loved our country
I miss when we loved our God
I miss quiet moments away from the social chaos
I miss personal connections
I miss empathy and compassion
I miss teachers who teach children to be leaders and not followers
I miss parents who do the same
I miss doctors who are driven by their oath and not their pocketbook
I miss actors who just act
I miss singers who just entertain

But more than anything - I just MISS basic humanity.
People are inherently good  - stop listening to the very small number who say otherwise

We can do better.
We HAVE to do better.
It's not too late.

Our future depends on it!

I was reminded today of a time before my dad died that still haunts my memory.

My dad passed away in 2004 and he had probably been sick for 6-7 years prior to that with Cushings Disease, diabetes and what we later learned to be lung cancer.      My dad was a prideful man.    We only learned bits and pieces of his illness because he had sworn his doctors to secrecy.    In fact, I only learned of his cancer diagnosis on the day he was removed from life support when the chaplain said a prayer with me but that's a story for another day.

This particular day was a bright sunny day during the summer months when my kids were young.  We were getting ready to list our home and had been needing to stain the back deck for some time.   My husband and I both worked full time jobs so finding the time to complete odd jobs around the house wasn't easy.    

So this particular day we awoke early and gathered all of our supplies to get the back deck stained.   We were on a deadline to get the house listed so this deck had to get stained TODAY!!    We had just started on the staining of the deck when I heard a car pull into the driveway.    Strange - I thought.   I wasn't expecting anyone today because, you know, we were busy staining the back deck.    And noone had called to say they needed to stop by because - again - I would have told them we were busy staining the back deck.

Not wanting to stop with my mission of getting this deck stained, I hollered "around back" to whomever had pulled in thinking it was most likely a delivery person and we could get this done rather quickly so I could get back to the task at hand.

I looked up just in time to see two individuals turning the corner of my house.    It was my mom and dad.  Now my first thought should have been how odd it was for them to show up unannounced but I was so busy concentrating on that deck that I didn't give it another thought.

In fact, I didn't think at all.    I just went with my first instinct which was frustration over the fact that they didn't call first AND I was staining a deck!     I didn't stop what I was doing.    Nope.    If they didn't have the decency to call first and let me know they were coming over, then I certainly wasn't going to stop what I was doing and have a visit with them.     

And I told them that (told ya I wasn't thinking at all).     I told them I was extremely busy staining this deck and had absolutely no time to visit with them.     A simple phone call would have saved them a trip.    I told them it was probably best to go back home and we could make a time to visit later.

But they didn't go home.     Nope.     My dad grabbed a few chairs from his car and plopped them down right in front of that deck.     And there they sat.    Watching us stain the back deck.

I would be lying if I didn't tell you that I was furious in that moment.   How could they have no respect for MY TIME on the ONLY DAY I had available to stain this back deck?    I didn't have time to visit with them.  In fact, they were disruptive to my routine.    

But none of that mattered to them.    And so they stayed.    And watched us for an entire afternoon as we stained the back deck.       And I fumed under my breath for this extreme inconvenience to my time.

Why am I sharing this with you?    Well, besides the OBVIOUS reason of admitting what a selfish idiot I could be in my younger days (not gonna lie - still struggle sometimes).     

I am sharing this with you because I believe it was in that moment that my father first realized that he was going to die.  And all he wanted to do was spend some time with his daughter and his grandchildren.       

But my father was prideful, remember?    He couldn't share that information with me because in his eyes that would make him look weak.      He also did not want to chance being told no to the visit had he called ahead to let me know he wanted to come over.

So he just drove over.   And watched me stain a deck.

I am reminded of that day so many times in my life.    All my dad wanted was a few moments with his family.     But I was too busy to allow that to happen.       I guess it was a good thing he was so stubborn because those moments he stole from my day have now become one of my most cherished (yet painful) memories.

I would give anything right now to have him sit in his lawn chair and watch me do anything.    Stain a deck.  Do the laundry.    Clean the yard.     I wouldn't care.     I had no idea in that moment how much that day would come to mean to me.

Since his death, I have had to deal with a lot of emotions and grief was only the beginning.    The regret and anger filled my head so hard that I felt my head was going to explode.   I felt such sadness remembering that day for so long because I was selfish.    And childish.     And I was only thinking about me and never once considered what my dad was feeling.   Or thinking.    

In that moment, he knew his days were numbered.   He was facing his own mortality and he hadn't even turned 59 yet.

I still get emotional when I think about that day and although it gets easier as time goes by, I still cannot stop the regret that often fills my head.     

The world would not have come to an end if I had chosen to stop what I was doing and take the time to visit with my dad.     He was dealing with a lot of emotions during that time and maybe this was a release from reality for him for just a little bit.

It is never easy dealing with loved ones and it can be especially difficult to deal with parents.    My dad never wanted to show that he was weak.   He always needed to be the man in control.   He didn't share his emotions very well but in that one moment when he grabbed his lawn chair and just watched us work,  I think - in his way - he was letting me know he cared.     He wanted me to know that he was vested in me even in the smallest events.

It was never about watching me stain the deck.    He just wanted to spend time with me.    Would I have reacted differently had I known at the time that he was dying?   Probably.  And that's exactly why he didn't tell me.     My dad always said "don't bring me flowers when I'm dead if you didn't bring them when I was alive".      I think he had the same philosophy on this occasion as well. 

Life is short.
We never know what day will be our last.
Love with your full heart. 
Live with no regret!

And when someone pulls up a chair to watch you work, take the time to understand that it was never about staining the deck!       

I was having a conversation with a woman the other day who understood my strong faith in God.  She knew my history.   She knew my story.

We were discussing faith and prayer.    I was sharing my belief in God and my relationship with our Savior Jesus Christ just as I had shared with her on so many occasions in the past.

Suddenly she looked at me and said "I don't believe in organized religion".     Now I don't know if she was trying to get me to shut up (because quite frankly I do tend to talk a lot) or if she was just in the mood to start an argument.     But I am fairly certain the answer I gave her was not quite what she expected.

My response was quick and simple.    "Good - neither do I"

I am a child of God.    A born again Christian faithful to the word of God.  

Yet I despise "organized religion".    Okay.   Maybe "despise" is too harsh a term but you get my point.

"Organized religion" is what gives Christians a bad name.
"Organized religion" has divided more people than it has brought together.
And more wars have been started in the name of "Organized religion" than I care to count.

 Now before any religious zealots begin to call me blasphemous - allow me to explain.

I believe the Bible to be true.     I believe that Jesus walked this Earth in human form and I believe there is a God in Heaven who we will all answer to when we die.

But I also believe there are individuals on this Earth who seek their own gratification in the name of Jesus Christ and this is especially true when we discuss women in the church (oh, yes, we are going there).

I find it interesting that some churches still to this day do not allow women to preach.   Some do not even allow them to speak at all.       Yet if those same church leaders studied the Bible at all (as they profess to do) they would read countless accounts where Jesus used ......what for it.......WOMEN.... to help spread the gospel.         

Since the dawn of time and certainly since the Bible was written,  individuals have twisted the word of God to suit their own greedy ambitions.       Jesus walked among lepers and prostitutes yet churches shut their doors to those individuals truly in need.       Jesus treated men and women EQUALLY yet churches still shut out women who have been anointed to preach the Gospel.

I.  Do.  Not.   Care.  About.   Religion.

But I do care about having a personal relationship with Jesus Christ.    Can we just set aside the whole "religiousity" thing for a minute and just talk about Jesus?     Can we talk about being in the depths of depression and feeling His loving arms wrapped around me during my darkest hours?   Can we talk about being a young girl of 13 who had just been molested by my great-grandfather and seeing the presence of Jesus at my bedside as I begged to die?     

Those aren't images of religion.    Religion didn't stop me from committing suicide (twice).    Religion didn't save my life.     But my personal relationship with Jesus Christ did.    

Can I just tell you right now that if you are struggling with "religion" - it's okay.     Know what else?  It's even okay to question God and the Bible.     God has big shoulders (they span the entire universe) - He can handle your questions.    In fact, I believe He welcomes your questions.

Don't let the sins of man stop you from having a relationship with Jesus Christ.    He will find you exactly where you are.      He has found me in my car.    At my bedside.   Even at my father's grave.   And every single time - He has never asked what religion I practice.     He just held me.   And loved me.    And let me know that everything was going to be okay.  

There will always be people in this world who will let you down.   Sometimes they are even the people closest to you.     But Jesus will NEVER let you down.   

So when I tell you that I am a Christian - please don't call me religious.    Because "religion" is what got Jesus crucified in the first place.

I am a Child of God.    A Lover of people.     ALL PEOPLE.    

We are all struggling with our faith right now and that is okay.    God understands.   He is a big God. 
Take your doubts and struggles to Him.    Scream at Him if you like.     I know I have.    I have questioned God's intentions so many times and convinced myself on numerous occasions that MY WAY was certainly the better way.   (SPOILER ALERT - IT WAS NOT).   

There is No perfect Christian.    There is No perfect religion.      There are just children of God working to do the best that we  can.    And sometimes the best we can do is simply pray.     If you don't know how to pray - start by talking to God.      He welcomes your thoughts and your fears.    You don't even have to speak in complete sentences.    There have been many times when my prayers sounded more like indistinct chatter but God knew my heart.    And He knew what I needed.

If you are struggling in your faith right now, it's okay.    God sees you.    And He will be ready for you when you are.    He will meet you right where you are.     All you have to do is ask.