Semantics

~Just because you're living doesn't mean you're alive ~

Merriam-Webster defines living as: having life; full of life or vigor; suited for living, etc. Other words used to further help us understand what 'living' is include: functional, viable, useful, productive...you get the idea.

Antithetically, the word exist is defined as: to continue to be; to have being in a specific place; and the most disturbing of them all: to live at an inferior level or under adverse circumstances. In other words...you just are.

So why the vocabulary lesson? I've been having an extremely difficult time lately. I sleep...a lot...or not at all. I don't eat because I forget to, which is now causing residual medical complications. I have crippling panic attacks that send me straight back to bed. I still cry a lot...even to the point of retching. Is that living...or simply existing? 

Not long ago, after one of my major breakdowns, my husband held me and said, "April, you're not living. You're just existing." What? I'm here, aren't I? I breathe. I take up space. I communicate (Kind of. I guess it depends on what method of communicating we're trying to define here). Therefore, I both live and exist, right?  Apparently not. Of course, on an intellectual level, I'm well aware of the differences between the two words, and, if asked, I could easily explain them...just not in the context of my own life...or existence. Presumably, I'm not full of vigor; I'm not very functional, nor am I useful or productive. Suited for living? Well, that one seems a bit harsh, don't you think? So which one defines me? I continue to be, ergo, I exist...seemingly at an 'inferior level', though, and under 'adverse circumstances.' Adverse circumstances? That's a colossal understatement! Would someone please explain to me how I'm supposed to harmoniously coalesce the two if I'm just existing under less than stellar conditions? After all, it's not like I can change my plight, and it certainly isn't mind over matter. "It's been over three years. Shouldn't she be living her life by now? Isn't it time for her to move on?" Perhaps many of you are thinking that right now. In fact, I would be willing to bet that a few of those closest to me...those who have consistently remained by my side from the very beginning, wonder just how long I will continue to stay trapped (or willingly linger) in the pain and seclusion of Brittany's death; her incomprehensible earthly absence from my life. I can't answer that.

Why should I allow others, myself included, the right to label me as one or the other, anyway? I am living...both for and through my son and husband. They fill me with joy and happiness everyday. God has blessed me immensely with my family. And believe me, there isn't a single day that passes that I don't thank Him for that. 

"Don't you want to move forward, honey?" my husband asked me. Hmm...a trick question. The most rational answer would be yes, of course. But that's not what I said...because being rational isn't something I excel at. My immediate response was, no...and here's why. For the first time since Brittany left me, I was finally able to articulate...both to myself and my husband...why I can't or won't forge ahead. 

Bear with me for just a moment, because the following is going to sound completely mental.

Using my fingers to represent a stick figure Brittany and a stick figure April, I said, "Imagine this finger as Brittany and this finger as me. What does "moving forward" mean?" I continued my illustration by moving "me" forward, while "Brittany" stayed put. I had left her behind...because she couldn't come with me. So, little stick April sprinted right back to little stick Brittany and didn't move. But the illustration doesn't end there. Little stick April is split in half...just like the real life April. It's like I'm trying to live two different lives in two different worlds: a world with just Brittany and me, and a world with Brett and Bryson...and no earthly Brittany. It's quite the paradoxical headache. 

Yes, I've heard them all. "You're not leaving Brittany behind. You'll carry her memories with you forever." "Brittany wouldn't want you to suffer like this. She'd want you to be happy." "You're not being fair to your husband and son." Frankly, I find that particular one quite judgmental. 

How long will I continue to just exist? Will I ever truly live again? I don't think so...at least not in the way the word live is broadly defined. The personality of the "old April" will never emerge again. She died. And that's irrevocable. Like my daughter's death. But a "new April?" Well, she's a work in progress.


Maybe I'm not traveling at warp speed in my quest to move forward. But I am moving...at my pace. Maybe I am emotionally straddling two worlds right now, desperately trying to bridge them together...but I am trying. Will I succeed? I guess only time will tell. But I believe with all my heart God will help me get there...when I'm ready. I may take a step or two forward, only to fall flat on my bottom, but God will always be there to pull me back up, gently hold my hand, and patiently say, "Let's try again."


In the meantime, I suppose I will continue to be the poster child for the elusive dichotomy between living and existing...until God, by His grace and mercy, makes me the official spokesperson for survival and redemption.

I love you Brittany Erin...timelessly <3

The Unmastered Maze

" I once read a sentence 'I lay awake all night with a toothache thinking about the toothache and lying awake.' That's true to life. Part of every misery is, so to speak, the misery's shadow or reflection; the fact that you don't merely suffer but have to keep on thinking about the fact that you suffer. I not only live each endless day in grief, but live each day thinking about living each day in grief."

-C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

I love C.S. Lewis. I was very familiar with his work well before Brittany's death. You might be, too. Perhaps The Chronicles of Narnia might ring a bell. But I study him much more often now and at a much deeper level. And, considering the man was once an atheist...well, it just makes his thoughts and insights that much more profound. Upon changing his views and accepting Christ as his Savior, he became one of the most renowned Christian authors of his time...and ours. When I ran across this quote recently, I realized it couldn't describe me any better. At first, it may appear to be nothing but a labyrinth of rhetoric that some may find too tedious to break down. But that's what grief is...my grief, anyway: a labyrinth of emotions. It isn't a map that's strategically planned out by the mind to help us find the proverbial "light at the end of the tunnel" once we've mastered the maze...because the maze is never truly mastered. Grief is like that, though...full of twisted paradoxes. Even after 33 months of my life without Brittany, I'm still searching for a way out. But as I write this, I'm wondering if I'm chasing my tail, looking for something that isn't ready to be found yet: The final exit from my maze of misery.

For the longest time after Brittany died, I purposely avoided the news...both print and television, because I didn't want to know when other children died...especially in such senseless manners...like car accidents...like Brittany's. I didn't want to think about other parents being unwillingly and blindly cast into this labyrinth of grief. The darkness. The emptiness. The hopelessness. I knew exactly what was in store for them and it made me physically ill. It still does. All the decisions and preparations that have to made when you can't even remember your own name. Trying to reconcile yourself with the impossibly irreconcilable...saying your last earthly goodbye to your son or daughter. No parent should have to endure that kind of cruelty. Ever. To this very day, I turn the other way when I drive by "final resting places." It's become an intrinsic reflex, I guess, especially when I'm passing by the ones I'm geographically familiar with. The same goes for the "places where arrangements are made." Almost 3 years later and I still can't seem to choke out the real words associated with my ridiculously verbose descriptions of those wretched places. I wonder if that will ever change? 

In my last post, I spoke of bitterness and grudge-holding, but also of letting it go...forgiveness. I made it sound so easy, didn't I? I even confessed some of my own mistakes made while raising Brittany; me, a selfish, misguided, young mother, now struggling to forgive herself for such foolish choices and wondering if those choices started some trickle down effect that ultimately caused Brittany's death. But I suppose it's all part of my personal labyrinth of grief that's constantly being altered by my erratically changing emotions and moods. Each corner I turn, there's a new hurdle, a darkened corner or blocked pathway. But then, I can turn another corner and see a small ray of light. Hope? I run full speed ahead, believing freedom from my grief is finally within reach. And then...SLAM!...another wall. And often that wall is just a mirror; a reflection of a sad girl completely unrecognizable to me...yet so familiar. Why is she so familiar...and where is the light in her eyes? Where is her hope? And what is she so desperately searching for? A secret passageway to the past? A hidden door to the Land of Do-Overs? Is she me...or am I her? Another riddle to unravel. Great.

That familiar reflection in the mirror? It's who I am now. It's the tattered and stained canvas of my life. And it's all I've left God to work with. But you know what? God has promised to take these scarred and seemingly useless scraps of my life and create a beautiful tapestry fit for a kingdom. His Kingdom. 

Which brings us full circle. 

The maze I talked about in the beginning? The maze I proffered could never be truly mastered? I still believe it can't be mastered...not this side of Heaven, at least. And only then will I truly master my maze and walk into the Light. God's Light. God's comfort. A Light that will make all things clear: My little girl's death, my grief, my mistakes. Because as a wise pastor and dear friend recently told me (Pastor Doug Meyer of Salem Lutheran Church): Life is like a parade. We can only see what's passing by us at that particular moment, whereas God sees the whole thing from beginning to end. And someday we will, too. And it will all make sense. 

I plan on watching that parade with my beautiful Brittany, standing hand in hand with Jesus, as I finally see how even the most tattered and stained pieces of person's life...my life...can be crafted into a beautiful tapestry. 


"I will lead the blind by the ways they have not known, along unfamiliar paths I will guide them; I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth. These are the things I will do; I will not forsake them." 

Isaiah 42:16

I love you Brittany...timelessly <3

   

Forgiveness

"It’ll clear the bitterness away

It can even set a prisoner free

There is no end to what its power can do

So, let it go and be amazed

By what you see through eyes of grace

The prisoner that it really frees is you."

From the song "Forgiveness" by Matthew West

I've been thinking a lot lately about forgiveness. For months I have been coming across quotes and songs on the subject. It seems no matter where I turn, there it is: Forgiveness. I joked around with a few people about how I thought God was trying to get my attention; but it wasn't until I was sitting in church recently when I was blindsided by the subject. I felt like I was the only one in the sanctuary with a spotlight focusing on me the entire time. "April Schuette...I'm talking to you." A "God thing" is what I call it. His way of telling me to write, because I find it extremely challenging to do so if I don't feel the presence of God in my words. That's why I've been so silent lately. I've been brooding...consumed by the challenging concept of such a simple word...forgiveness. I don't know about you, but I've struggled my entire life trying to choke out those three little words: I forgive you. 

So why now? Why add yet another log to the emotional and mental fiery hell that burns inside my very being? Hope. It's the hope of finally letting it go (if that's even humanly possible). You see, I don't subscribe to the abstract theory of "forgive and forget." Only one person is able to do that: God. Yes, we may tell someone we forgive them, but of course we never forget. At least not me. I'm a grudge holder. The "I remember exactly what you said and/or did to me, on what day, in what year, and what you were wearing" kind of grudge holder. It's not something I'm proud of and it's something I've worked very hard to overcome, and continue to do so, because there are still a few circumstances and individuals I need to set free from the bondage of my internal prison. But you want to know the one person who's really rotting away in that cell? Me. Alone. In solitary confinement. Why? Because over the years I have let them imprison me! I have given them the power to poison my life with anger and bitterness. What's even worse, though...and I'm so ashamed to admit this...there was a time in my life when I even plotted and played out various scenarios of revenge in my malcontent mind. That being said, parenthetically I would like to assure you that I spar with words, lest you draw the wrong conclusion and think I go around clocking people who make me mad. 

Right now, I'm struggling to forgive a few people who, I'm quite sure, don't even know the harm their words or actions have caused. They're not suffering. I am. It isn't their insides that are being corroded by anger and bitterness. Mine are. They're not the ones who brood and obsess or lose countless hours of sleep over something they probably have no clue about in the first place...and that's absolutely maddening, isn't it? In my mind, they should be suffering...not me. I'm the wronged party here (in my completely skewed opinion, anyway). I mean, how do I forgive the person who said to me the very day after my daughter died that, while we may have "resembled" each other, Brittany was "put together better than me?" (i.e. She's much prettier than I am). Very true...but still...ouch. And how do I forgive the person who said to me just weeks after my little girl died that I needed to get over it and move on? How do I forgive the person who told me that, had I indeed made other life choices, perhaps Brittany would still be alive today? What about family members and friends who have deserted me because they think the statute of limitations on grieving has passed? But the one I struggle with the most... the one that troubles me beyond any earthly explanation...is finding the strength and willingness to forgive the person who all but disowned Brittany, barely acknowledging her existence, while I spent years wiping away her countless tears of confusion and hurt, feeling so helpless because it was a wound a bandaid and a kiss couldn't fix. Brittany's pain was my pain. Literally. I felt every ounce of it. Releasing that deep seeded animosity is going to take some major intervention on God's end and a willing spirit to let it go on mine. But I refuse to spend the rest of my life consumed by something I'll never be able to change. I'd rather spend that time wrapped in the arms of the thousands of memories I have of Brittany and the love and friendship we shared.  


Unfortunately, it doesn't end there. 

Another major stumbling block on my road to forgiveness is my inability...or maybe just my unwillingness...to forgive the one person whose been sentenced to life in my mental prison of anguish. Myself. I mean, letting go of whatever wrongs I feel others have inflicted upon me is hard enough, in and of itself; but forgiving myself for a lifetime of wrongs I have inflicted upon others? That's no small feat. It isn't simply mind over matter, because if that's the case, my "matter" is a lot more formidable than my "mind". 

I made so many mistakes with Brittany, especially when I was young and single. I didn't realize it at the time, but she was an innocent victim of the train wreck my life had become and the destruction I left in its wake. I was my own conductor on that doomed train of life and she had no choice but to climb aboard, neither one of us knowing where it would lead. And you want to know something ironic about that entire ride? I used to call it my "Misguided Quest for Happiness." I even kicked around the grandiose notion of writing a book about it someday, because trust me when I say, I have plenty of misguided quests to write an entire novel. The most heartbreaking part of all, though, is I had no clue that my snarky, offhanded quip of being on a misguided quest for happiness would someday lead to my current quest...the quest for finding a new normal...without my little girl. And that's anything but happy. 

After suffering the death of Brittany, I tortured myself with all the "what ifs." What if I had made this choice instead of that one? What if I hadn't moved her around so much? The list is endless. But the biggest "what if" of all: did she forgive me? Am I to blame for her accident simply because I was young and selfish during her formative years and made stupid decisions? Everyone I've cried to about this has said, "Of course she forgave you. Look at how tightly bound you were to one another. You were her best friend and she trusted you with her deepest secrets." And you know what? I've finally come to believe it's true. (That's a huge breakthrough for me, by the way). Brittany and I were so in sync with one another and had such an odd and rare connection. We were inseparable, even when we weren't living together. Even now, I can still feel it, because that kind of bond can never be severed...not even by death. More importantly though, it could never have been forged in the first place without forgiveness...and unconditional love.  

I truly wish that we, like God, could forget when we feel wronged by others. But more than that, I wish we were able to forget our own transgressions instead of letting them hold us captive to a past we regret. But what about this? Maybe God didn't give us the ability to forget because He wants us to remember for the sake of our salvation. He doesn't want us to remember so we can continue to punish ourselves and/or others. He doesn't want us to remember so we stay trapped in the past with no hope for the future. I think He wants us to use our mistakes as a compass to find our way back to Him. How can we possibly move forward if we're constantly looking behind us? He wants to set us free. He wants to set me free. So...as challenging as it will be, I'm going to try my hardest to let God set me free from my past. What's done is done...and as much as I may desperately want to, I can't change the past. What I can change is my future. 

Will I ever truly forget? Of course not. I'm human...and if I were to deliberately allow myself to dwell on the past...on the people who have hurt me or my daughter...dwell on my own transgressions...I risk being consumed by anger, bitterness and remorse all over again. Once more, I would be forfeiting the power of my own self worth...and that, my dear friends, is simply unacceptable. Forgiving someone doesn't mean you have to let that person back into your life. It doesn't mean subjecting yourself to more pain and sorrow. It's about you and your spiritual well being. It's about trusting God and having faith in the power of His healing. 

As for all the people I've hurt in my life? Well, I may never receive their forgiveness, but I'm counting on God to cover those sins, too, and forgive me anyway...even if they don't...because in the end, when my life is over, it's only God's forgiveness that matters. 

Yes, my beautiful Brittany died. She was a cloned version of me in so many, many ways. Yet, despite all of our uncanny likenesses, the one thing I didn't pass on to her is my proclivity to hold grudges. She wasn't like that. And I don't want to be, either. Not anymore. I want to make my little girl proud. And I will.

Just remember...when you let bitterness and hate fester inside your soul, you become its incubator...and soon it will begin to thrive and poison you. Then, before you know it, years will have passed by and you'll realize the only person who truly suffered was you. Don't let it. Life is much too precious and far too short. Trust me. 

Right now, God is holding the key to my prison cell of bitterness and regret. He has yours, too. All we have to do is accept it...along with His forgiveness.  

"...as far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our transgressions from us."

Psalm 103:12

Should we not do the same?