I’ll admit it. I’m not the most observant person…especially when it comes to remembering what people where wearing. (Ironically, I’m very much a visual learner.) I’ve always said that I would probably never be able to identify a criminal in a lineup or anything of the sort, because I struggle to remember the details of what someone might have looked like or might have been wearing.

I came face to face with this deficit of mine when having to describe to the police back in May (when my husband was still considered missing) what he was wearing when he left the house that morning. I honestly couldn’t remember. I was mortified that my memory lack might hinder the investigation. As it turned it, he was found anyway.

Interestingly, I have been wearing a very special pendant almost everyday since about a month after Chris died. It’s quite unique, and I had never even heard of this type of thing until the funeral home offered it as a service to me. It’s called a thumbie. Yes. A thumbie. Simply put, it’s an impression of a portion of my husband’s actual thumbprint. The funeral home offered to capture his thumbprints for me and keep them on file in case I wanted to capture it in memory form (via the thumbie) down the road someday. I did ask them to go ahead and do that, and I would look into it later.

It wasn’t much later before I ordered my own thumbie pendant. You have no idea how much comfort that is around my neck. It might sound silly, but it is such a treasure to be able to reach up and rub that little thing and actually feel the ridges of my husband’s print. What a treasure!

Like me…however…there are a lot of non-observant people in this world. Or – maybe they’re are just afraid to ask about it, because I’ve been wearing it since June, and I think I’ve only had 3 people ever ask me about it. Two of them happened to be within this past week. But, the most unusual conversation I’ve had about it was tonight…at a Casting Crowns concert.

Working for a radio station AND being shutterbug…I’ve had the privilege of being able to attend several station events as the photographer. Tonight was one of those nights. Casting Crowns is on their Come to the Well tour with Lindsay McCaul, The Afters, and Sanctus Real. I had the honor of being able to meet the various artists before the concert began. When it was time to meet the Casting Crowns members, I was beyond thrilled to meet the amazing songwriter, Mark Hall. Such a down-to-earth, humble man.

3 of the Casting Crowns members (lead singer Mark Hall in the center) with Jon Matthews and me

However, the most interesting conversation I had was with Juan DeVevo – guitarist and vocalist with Casting Crowns. He spotted my thumbie – kept staring at it actually and then asked the question, “What exactly is that  you’re wearing if I may ask?”

I thought he meant my station badge or nametag at first – ha! ha! – but, I quickly realized he was referring to my thumbie. I paused. Oh boy. I’m not often asked this question and certainly didn’t expect a Casting Crowns band member to even look my way long enough to notice my necklace.

And, so I shared. I told Juan what it was…what it stood for…and briefly that my husband went home to be with the Lord in May. I think I shocked him actually. That wasn’t the answer he was expecting, but he was so gracious with his response. And, I was so thankful that God gave me the grace to share about it without curling up into a ball of tears! He is so good to me!

You just never know who might be paying attention…

What a fun evening!

Me, Juan DeVevo, and Jon Matthews (I’m wearing the thumbie – you can see it if you look closely.)

Nothing frustrates me more on this grief journey than trying to figure out what might trigger a meltdown. Just when I think I’ve mastered it…I’m surprised yet again. And, sadly, I know that grief is completely unpredictable…so, why am I even trying to figure everything out? Well…that’s just my personality…to put it bluntly.

I’m Type A. I’m a recovering perfectionist. I’m a first born. I’m a planner. I’m organized (or at least I am in some settings – I used to be in EVERY setting). I’m just one of these “I’ve got to figure it all out” kind of gals. But, you know what? God is really trying to shake some of that out of me. And…He’s succeeding perhaps more than ever before.

I’m realizing (even though I’m not happy about it) that I will never fully figure out this grief journey. I’m just having to walk it day by day (sometimes hour by hour), trusting that God will get me through each and every meltdown or panic attack and set my feet back upon the Rock when I stumble. Friends…that’s hard for me to admit and even harder for me to accept. If there’s a problem…I want to fix it. For me, grief is my “problem” right now, but there’s nothing I can do to “fix it”. I just have to go THROUGH it!

Saturday evening took me to a special gathering with some people I work with and a group of sweet guests. I had been looking forward to this night for weeks. But…

There’s the “but” again…

As I drove the 8 miles from my house to the venue…I went from excited to sad to scared to practically panicky. The only thing that I can think of that triggered this was the fact that I realized Chris wouldn’t be with me, and I would be attending something that would find me around lots of couples. No – I wasn’t the only single lady there, but it didn’t matter at the time. I was without Chris…and HE SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE WITH ME!!! Amongst the sadness, anger started to creep in a bit. I kept trying to suppress these irritating emotions. I had to pull myself together and quickly! I pulled into the parking lot, parked my car and sat there. Just sat there with my chest heaving…my mind racing…my heart fluttering…my eyes fighting back tears…my throat closing. What was happening to me? I couldn’t move. I just sat. I watched couples walk into the building – hand-in-hand or arm-in-arm. Lord, I need help right now. Show me what to do.

I think I was on the verge of my first ever panic attack or perhaps just another meltdown.

Just then, I felt Him whisper to me to call in a couple of prayer warriors. And so…I sent 3 texts. Just 3. Only these 3 ladies and God knew what was happening in that moment. But, they prayed. They texted me words of comfort, and just when the enemy thought he had me in the palm of his hand…Operation Meltdown was thwarted. The prayers of faithful pulled me out…yet again!