dare you to move

Tanned toes dig in the soft sand.  The warm sun hugs us from above the beauty of Kauai’s coast.  My new husband lies next to me holding my hand.  An undeniable smile imparts my lips.  Pure and utter joy envelopes my soul.  Memories of our honeymoon dig at my heart.  Why did he have to go?  He should still be here; lying next to me, holding my hand.

I gaze out the window of this quaint coffee shop.  A blue Acura TL catches my eye; catches my heart.  Garrett.  He remains almost everywhere I look. Oh, how I desperately miss him.  First, I wonder if it really could be his car, as we sold it a few months ago.  My second thought is more of a daydream.  I imagine that his car is parked outside because he is on a date with me.  Just like it used to be many Saturdays before.  We’d share a table at the coffee shop; talking, laughing, and enjoying each other.  His car should be parked outside because he should still be here.    

Looking back in this manner never helps.  Coveting the past never helps me live in the moment.  It never helps me to think, well if Garrett were here now; this would be the way life could have been.  Because he’s not…and it’s not.   The “could’ve” and “should’ve” thinking weighs me down.  I experience these passing thoughts like at the coffee shop.  Or when I’m in the battles of parenthood, I wish he was there to set one of the boys straight, and give me a break.  But every time I go there in thought, I quickly shake it away.  I remind myself where I’m at; this is my new life now.  No whining or daydreams about the way life could’ve or should’ve been will help me now.  It only adds insult to injury.  If I continued to draw on my loss and meditate on what was, I personally would find myself stunted in growth, unable to face the future.  I know that is not God’s plan for my life.  “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11 

A few hours after I found out the devastating news that Garrett had passed away, night drew near.  I wondered, how will I ever sleep again?  Because I found it hard to breathe; hard to get through each agonizing minute.  So, I tried listening to music with my friend.  One of the first songs that played on my Pandora channel was “Dare you to Move” by Switchfoot.  The song struck an immediate chord with me.  I felt like God was challenging me and using the song to say, "You are not going to stay here in this place.  You can move forward and out of this suffocating pain."  Here’s a link to the song, and some of the lyrics that really stood out to me:

I dare you to move
I dare you to move
I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor
I dare you to move
I dare you to move
Like today never happened
Today never happened before

Welcome to the fallout
Welcome to resistance
The tension is here
Tension is here
Between who you are and who you could be
Between how it is and how it should be

In bold print across the recesses of my brain was:   I dare you to move like today never happened.  Today, at that moment, was the worst day of my life.  But God was and still is challenging me, challenging each one of us, to move.  I dare you to move.  Move out of the paralyzing pain.   Move out of that day that changed everything.  Let go of whatever you are holding on to that is holding you back.  The verse that continues to come to mind is Philippians 3:13-14:

But one thing I do:  [Forget] what is behind and [strain] toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. 

Not that I’m forgetting Garrett; I will always treasure the amazing man that he was and our sweet time together.  But I’m working on stepping forward in the present, and not keeping my eyes fixed behind.  Instead of holding tightly to Garrett and what was, I’m holding tightly to God and focusing on what is.  I’m continually placing the pain and memories in His hands, and asking Him to help me move forward with them.    

Today I know that such memories are the key not to the past, but to the future. I know that the experiences of our lives, when we let God use them, become the mysterious and perfect preparation for the work He will give us to do.
— Corrie Ten Boom