It Is Finished.

It is finished.
I will be taking a little blog break to heal.

A marriage has ended and a family is broken.
My heart feels like a gaping wound.
Yet it is surreal. I pinch myself here in this little blog window. 
Is it really true?
Sadly, it is.
I never dreamed such sorrow could consume me once again.  I remember similar feelings after my late husband was tragically killed.
Here I am losing a beloved spouse in a different way. 
The price of love is almost too great to bear.

It's been almost 3 years working through this tragedy and my heart still hurts all the time.  My brain hurts too.  Both my heart and my head still struggle to process all that has happened.  Especially because things were good and happy in my house until the lies rolled out.  It's still so hard to believe that such an incredible charade took place right before my eyes.   

Like a bomb going off, I discovered that betrayal and pathological lies staggered through the 17 years of our marriage and suddenly came to light in shocking ways, including sexual addiction. In fact, I've heard stories like mine on television talk shows and now one of them showed up in my house. Uninvited.  I am that person who had no clue. It was honestly like the father of lies suddenly appeared and shattered our family in one fell swoop.  It has truly been Unbelievable.

Love still held out hope that maybe a miracle could occur with humility and true reconciliation. I hoped and prayed, for my children's sake, that a miracle recovery and conversion would take place.  It was my biggest prayer to have my husband and family back, the way it was 'before.' 

No miracle came.  This was another tragedy for all of us.  With every bone in my body, I feel the broken bonds of our marriage in the hearts of my children.  Marriage is clearly not just about the husband and wife.  Our bond created more life and love through our children and they are crushed a long with us.  We should never underestimate the damage that an earthquake causes to a house... Everyone who lives there is affected. I suppose that's why the word divorce sounds bad.  It sounds like walls dividing and crumbling down.

So the question is how do you put your house and heart back together after such an earthquake of the heart rumbles through your life?  How does someone rebuild a house of love?  Now there's a happy word!  Rebuild.  It's possible, as we all know.  We've seen it happen all around us.  Even the horrific 9/11 brought rebuilding and restoration. This is where I am now. I'm struggling with rebuilding and restoration in the midst of human damage. I'm learning that it takes a real and honest look at the carnage
...resentment and other broken pieces of my heart...
to see how it's affecting spiritual and physical progress. 

Maybe by putting myself out there in all of my weakness, others might find hope and healing a long with me. At times, I have never felt so alone.  What breaks people out of this is loneliness is getting it out, talking, writing, etc.  If you have ever experienced betrayal trauma, (or any other trauma) you know this.  You cannot remain silent. You must be able to talk about it.  Even if it reaches one person who needs to know that someone else walks with them, I am here.

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and God of all encouragement, who encourages us in our every affliction, so that we may be able to encourage those who are in any affliction with the encouragement with which we ourselves are encouraged by God. For as Christ's sufferings overflow to us, so through Christ does our encouragement also overflow.

~2 Corinthians 1:3-5~

It is finished. 

These were also the last word's of Christ on the Cross.
I'm sitting with this for now.
As Christians, we know the death of Jesus, those last words he spoke, brought hope.
This is what I cling to.
I carry this cross in the name of hope.
Please pray for my family's healing.

"I will restore you to health; of your wounds I will heal you, says the Lord." ~Jer. 30:17

Blog Update And Changes

Hello dear readers of this blog~

The events of my marriage and family life have grown more complicated than originally thought, written, and expressed here in the last year.  More has transpired in such a way that I feel it best to honor the privacy of our family by not sharing any more details via this public domain.  However, I do have a plan to keep writing!

For those of you who have been praying for us, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.  I would appreciate any continued prayers for my husband, my sanity, our whole family's healing and God's will be done. Regardless of the outcome, it is my deepest prayer that this tragedy be turned to triumph in some miraculous way.

 This blog has been a haven for sharing my spiritual journey, alongside of raising a family.  I have met so many wonderful friends and families that I hate to leave behind.  I hope my friends here will keep in touch via email and continue to stop by this blog once in a while. Those of you who check in on me once in awhile have been such a blessing!

Ultimately, I feel called to keep writing, as God sees fit,  because it is my belief that we are not alone on this journey of life and faith.  Most importantly in times of trouble, we need each other to be the hands and feet of Jesus...Who better to share (than you and I) that there's always hope, despite the worst struggle?

I'll continue to share my personal sojourn as I strive to stay anchored to the cross, my battle post.

A Letter To My Husband's Murderers In Honor Of Good Friday

Good Friday~ 2014

Dear Souls~ ( All 3 of you)

This year is the 20th Anniversary of the evening you killed my husband, Chris Walter, while robbing him on Good Friday, April 2, 1994.  My heart still races in terror as I remember witnessing the mortal gunshot wound to his head while you attempted to escape in a getaway car...All while our precious 6 month old baby lay sleeping nearby. Rushing to my husband's side, I only found innocent blood gushing from his lifeless body.

For years, I struggled with anger and hate for you 3 strangers who wrecked Good Friday. 

Not this Good Friday. 
It's 20 years later and I don't hate you anymore. 
I still hate what you did but I don't hate you in the slightest bit. 

You, just like me, were created by God and He loves us more than we could ever imagine.  Even though we betray Him or turn our backs on him, He still hopes that we will all come back to Him, to know His love for us and be with Him in heaven someday.  I hope this for you, just as much as I hope this for myself and the rest of my family.  We are never happy in this life until we find the living God, who still dwells among us, and run to Him.  He is waiting with open arms and His mercy is endless.  "Though the mountains leave their place and the hills be shaken, My love shall never leave you nor my covenant of peace be shaken, says the Lord, who has mercy on you."~Isaiah 54:10, 14-15

In fact, God loves all of us so much, that He sent his only Son, Jesus Christ, to die for us.  He even died a most horrible and murderous death on a cross for all human beings, not just a select few.  It was Good Friday that day too. 

Good Friday is about love and not hate. 

In fact, there was a robber who was crucified right next to Jesus who was forgiven during his dying moments because he had faith in God's son, the Redeemer of the world.  When the robber cried out "Jesus, remember me, when you come into my kingdom, " Jesus cried: "Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise." (Luke 23:43)  The robber's faith set him free.  Even though you have 20 more years in prison, your soul can still find freedom...

While He hung dying on the Cross that Good Friday, Jesus also forgave his own murderers before he died, exclaiming: "Father forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing."  (Luke 23:34)  He knew they could not possibly know what they were doing...If only they believed!

It is here at the foot of the Cross where I find truth and meaning.  God speaks to us there as we all bear our own crosses in this life.  His loving gaze sustains us as He suffered just like we do in all things but sin.  He wants us all to be happy with Him forever.  There is no other love greater than His.

Believing this with all of my heart, I forgive you. 
Believing this with all of my soul, I love you.

Life did not end on that Good Friday 2000 years ago or on that Good Friday 20 years ago.
Life begins on Good Friday because it ends with Easter Sunday.
Christ rose from the dead to prove life...An Eternal life that is free for the choosing.

On this Good Friday, I am praying you will seek and find Him.
On this Good Friday, I am trying to begin again.
On this Good Friday, I hope you will too.

Life, not death, has the last word.
Love wins.
Peace be with you,
Tiffany

"Christ himself bore our sins in his body upon the cross, so that, free from sin, we might live for righteousness.  By his wounds, you have been healed." 1 Peter 2:24

He Must Have Known...Calvary Hill

It's that time of year again...My Calvary beckons.

For those who have lost dear ones, they know that grief changes but it never goes away...

Like a vast ocean that ebbs and tides over a span of a lifetime, it's always there, a cross to bear.  And yet the load shifts, if we allow it, moving to new places in the undiscovered crevices of our soul.  

Just over the hill from the cemetery lies the ocean that carries the waves of my story.  He, Lord of heaven and earth, must have known I'd need the sea...
 New ways to bear this load, in strengthened faith and resolve, keep me in forward motion.  Memories of a life once had are just over my shoulder, begging a backward glance...a life that could have been, a life not meant to be. Though deep and happy, my spirit is strained.

 The struggle never ceases but at the same time, neither do the consolations...
(I came across this quote yesterday)
"Bear the cross but do not make the cross bear you."
~Philip Neri~
Amen.

Last weekend, I made my annual trek to the resting place of my dear, late husband, Chris.  He has been buried at the top of the hill, under that beautiful evergreen tree at Calvary Cemetery, for many years now. Still, it never ceases to amaze me that we buried him on top of Calvary Hill after his tragic death on Good Friday.  
It wasn't my plan. 
Without a doubt, God had this all in mind.
He must have known.

He must have known that I'd find comfort in uniting my cross to those 3 crosses at the top of the hill with each passing year...

 

He must have known I'd bring my memories, my sadness, my loss, one foot in front of the other, uniting one Good Friday with another.

He must have known that I'd find beauty in the fields of gold...Peace in the whisper of the hilltop winds.

He must have known that the seeds of forgiveness would brightly bloom, beginning right here.

He must have known where there was hatred, there would be love...

Where there was darkness, there would be light,

Where there was doubt, there would be faith.

He must have known that climbing the hill to Calvary would heal the brokenhearted.
(Isaiah 61:1-2)

He must have known that the foot of the cross would become an altar of grace.

He must have known that one Good Friday after another, sorrow and love would mingle in a flow of life saving remedy.

Here lies a slain soldier, who heroically shed his blood...laid down his own life to save the life of his family.

As always, the parallels this time of year are uncanny on my Calvary Hill...They have helped me survive over the years, contributing to my armoury of hope...He must have known.

The God of all grace who called you to his eternal glory through Christ Jesus will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you after you have suffered a little.  To Him be dominion forever.
1 Peter 5:10-11

Keeping an Eye On The Cross

I've just returned from my annual Lenten pilgrimage to Calvary Hill... It's the quaint country cemetery where my dear late husband (and father to my oldest son) lays to rest at the top of this hill.  As I mentioned last year, it is deemed a pilgrimage because we travel to a sacred place.  Here in this place, we care for and maintain our own family grave by gardening and visiting the cemetery...It feels good here, like a stopping place on the road to heaven.  This corporal work of mercy never fails to be a cathartic Lenten almsgiving...especially that hike up the hill!

“The bodies ofthe dead must be treated with respect and charity, in faith and hope of the 

Resurrection. The burial of the dead ...honors the children of God, who are temples of the Holy Spirit.” Catechism ofthe Catholic Church (#2300).

It's about a 4 hour drive from our home in the valley to this burial place by the sea.  It's far enough away to feel like a journey...Especially when the human population decreases and the animal population increases as we get closer to this place of peace.  The landscape makes a stark change as we cross over from city sprawl to a beautiful land of rolling hills and historic family farms.

The hills are always gorgeous green this time of year and sprinkled with dairy cows and herds of sheep...I felt this to be particularly fitting and striking for me this year.  After all, I am but a lowly sheep, always eager and waiting for Christ to shepherd me.  

I am forever reminded that I cannot find my way alone.

 The lovely hymn, "Shepherd me O God," came to mind as I reflected upon our visit.

Isn't this baby lamb just adorable?

Shepherd me, O God,

beyond my wants,

beyond my fears,

from death into life.

I am thankful for our decision to bury Chris here instead of a crowded Veteran's cemetery that nearly held his remains. 

I feel profound solitude as I walk among our neighbors here and view the sweet remembrances that their loved ones have left...

Everyone has a story...

I pray a little prayer for each soul (and their story) that has passed this way.

It feels good to till the soil, root out the weeds...

and prune the branches...

How appropriate as we work to do the same thing on our Lenten spiritual path to Easter.

Regardless of our life sufferings and challenges, I am always reminded that we must pass through Calvary...

to gain new life.

We must keep our eye on the Cross...

lest we blink and miss the Easter hope of the Resurrection.

 I don't think I mentioned before that this little coastal village holds many family memories on my late husband's side.  The historical church steeple, can be seen from the cemetery where weddings and baptisms made many happy memories...

and one sorrowful memorial for my late husband's brother. (My dear in-laws have tragically lost 2 sons)

In fact, our oldest son was baptized here so we always pay a visit to this beautiful church, named after St. Teresa of Avila.  As the years swiftly pass, it's nostalgia at it's best!

We are homeward bound after a quick visit to the sea shore!

I won't lie and tell you that it doesn't hurt to live this story each day and make a painful pilgrimage each year...But I will say that I am better, my soul is better for this hurt.  One of my favorite things that Mother Teresa said was that we must "give until it hurts.  For love to be true it has to hurt.  It hurt Jesus to love us; it hurt God to love us because He had to give.  He gave His Son.  This is the meaning of true love, to give until it hurts."

Unfailingly, I drive away with hope. 

Passing through fields of gold, I felt the true Shepherd return to accompany us.  He gives us certainty that, together with Him, we can find our way home...Keeping an eye on the Cross!

Man's great, true hope which holds firm in spite of all disappointments can only be God who continues to love us to the end.

"Worship him who was hung on the cross because of you, even if you are hanging there yourself."~St. Gregory Nazianzen~

Up The Hill To Calvary

"Let the crucifix be not only in my eyes and on my breast, but in my heart."

~St. Bernadette~

I recently made my annual pilgrimage to Calvary Hill...The name "Calvary" after the same Calvary where Our Lord took his last earthly breath.  This is yet another (now beautiful) irony to my story.  Calvary is the name of the cemetery where my late husband, Chris, was laid to rest.  It is a beautiful Catholic parish cemetery on a hill, currently managed by a 77 year old volunteer, funded by private donations.  Needless to say, we "do our own maintenance" there!  We drive quite a distance to get to our chosen family place of honor.  These hills filled with sheep (and their lambs) are part of the wondrous landscape that fills my spirit a long the way.

I call it a pilgrimage because that is what it has become over the past 17 years.  As the dictionary defines pilgrimage, it is "A journey to a sacred place for exalted or sentimental reasons." 

We climb the hill, rain or shine, and work in our hero's garden at the top.  It has become a cathartic place for my oldest son and I to honor our dearly departed AND our Father in heaven as we care for the resting place of our beloved dead.  It has become one of my favorite Lenten offerings.  Last year, my reflections on our pilgrimage led to the beginning of this blog. It's a 1 year bloggy anniversary already!

This was the first year that we arrived to the bursting beauty of daffodils!  They are a glorious addition to Calvary Hill.  Their trumpets seem to herald the hope of the Resurrection to all who tread this hallowed ground.  Daffodils are often the first flowers to burst forth even after the harshest of winters, ever vigilant with their annual return.  They remind me of Our Savior's return, even after the most horrific death on His own Calvary Hill.  They are also symbolic of my personal return to joy from sorrow. The promise of new life is all around us, most especially during the Lenten season.  How fitting to find it here in this place.

As it is in our own lives through the thickest of mud, His glory prevails. There's nothing like tilling the soil at the foot of the cross to remind us of this.

Here we have my son and my dear brother-in-law (Chris' brother) helps out almost every year.

I am also reminded that suffering yields tremendous gifts.
The cross is the greatest love story ever told through which God's grace and mercy awaits each one of us with no exceptions.  His cross unites all of our sorrows with the only One who truly understands; No doubt, it is the instrument of salvation for more reasons than one.
I can testify that if we meet Him there, we will never want to leave.
"Thank the good God for having visited you through suffering; if we knew the value of suffering, we would have asked for it." ~Blessed Brother Andre~ 

These 3 crosses of Calvary were the original inspiration for my blog.  I just might have to update my original header photo with one of these and the new daffodils!

Each year we pull out the weeds, trim the branches and bring something new to plant.  It now reminds me of what we attempt to do during Lent.  I know that I look forward to cleaning my own inner garden during this beautiful liturgical season, in preparation for Easter and the ultimate hope of a heavenly home. I have discovered that Fasting, Praying, Almsgiving and the ultimate emptying of ourselves through Reconciliaiton is freedom itself. 
"He who has made me, unmakes me." ~Blessed Eugenie Smet~
This purple plant was our new addition and gift this year.

I loved the Lenten purple color, symbolizing a Good Friday death anniversary, one we will never forget.  I find it a great blessing and comfort that Chris' death anniversary is now shared with the great Venerable Pope John Paul II.   If his saintly feast day ends up being on April 2, it will be another providential connection for me to embrace. 
I bought a duplicate plant to take home.  This way there will be one there and one here.  I will plant ours in honor of  both Chris and our late Holy Father, on Saturday.

This is the view from the top looking down.  It was a very stormy weekend but the angels arranged for the rains to stop for a bit.  We no sooner finished our gardening and the clouds opened again with a down pour!  Praise God for graces received.

Our finished garden!

 A few family photos...
Me, Mer-man and my Mom

Mer-man with Grandpa and Grandma
(Chris' parents)

Group photo (minus my Mom)

Down the hill we go but forever at the foot of the cross.

"We are pilgrims and strangers on earth.  Pilgrims sleep in tents and sometimes cross deserts, but the thought of their homeland makes them forget everything else."~Venerable Charles de Foucauld~

Daffodils


By William Wordsworth
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.