If it weren’t for the internet, my boys would probably have wished for a new mommy today! I think my wrath would have unleashed on them without restraint (not literally, but you get the picture).
You see, they discovered a black permanent marker and took turns (atleast they shared, right?) writing on their sister’s bedroom walls and on their dry erase board. As you can imagine, to say I was PO’ed is an understatement.
I tried a magic eraser first and then windex with minimal success. Thankfully for my precious little ones, before going COMPLETELY ballistic I googled how to clean permanent marker from a dry erase board (probably something I should have thought to do beforehand). Nonetheless, the results were surprising! Did you know you can use a dry erase marker? All you have to do is go over the permanent marker stain with a dry erase marker, careful to cover all of it, and using a dry eraser or paper towel it just wipes away! No joke. My very next thought: “Fascinating!”
I don’t have a “before” picture since I was more concerned with removing the artwork, but the results were so impressive that I had to take an “after” picture. I’ll describe the “before” scene so you can appreciate fully the “after”. Imagine a swirl beginning at the center (with a large dot) and continuing all the way to the edge of the board.
…Ok, I am really frustrated…been trying to load the “after” picture all day with no success. I’m not really sure what the problem is. One thing is that Internet Explorer keeps closing on me. Sorry I can’t post the photo, but trust me, it was AMAZING! The marker is completely gone and the board looks almost brand new!
Yes, my boys will live to see another day all thanks to the internet and a dry erase marker. I’m including the link I found in case you want to check it out for yourself. As always, have a blessed day.
Filed under: Uncategorized — stephaniesings @ 2:19 am
Usually around this time of year like so many other people I send an email or post something recapping the highlights of the last 365 days. This past year didn’t have many highlights…more like “lowlights”. If there were a contest for Stephanie’s worst year, 2009 wins by a landslide. Justin lost his job in March under shady circumstances and still does not have full-time employment, we had to move and as many of you know…
My 28 year old brother, Matthew Austin Seabolt, died August 13th. I was crushed. My only brother. He was so protective of me, his older sister. I’m still picking up the pieces. God is putting me back together. I want to blame someone for his death. I want someone to scream at and to hit.
But before you start to worry about me too much, even in the midst of such a tragic year, I have been blessed…WE have been blessed. My three beautiful children bring us much joy. All of them love to sing and dance. Jackson loves to act out his favorite shows. Sadie is a little parrot and speaks with such clarity for a 21 month old. Josiah loves to color and write his name (not always on paper, though). We’ve started homeschooling officially (I say officially because I’ve discovered that we’ve been homeschooling since their birth but only become deliberate about it a few months ago.). The kids love it! It’s not work to them and much of what we do isn’t compulsory. We incorporate teachable moments throughout our day as opportunity presents itself. Jackson is only 4 years old, but I think we’ll continue to homeschool as long as we are able and it is effective for our kids. I’m surprised with how much I have enjoyed it too. It just feels natural.
Justin starts another master’s degree program this semester. This time he’s working on a master’s of library and information science (aka. MLiS) at Valdosta State University. We are hoping that upon completion this will lead to a position in a theological library and/or archival work. Yes, I married a bookworm. No, I didn’t plan on marrying a librarian but I’m so glad I did!
This is truly the condensed version of our year. I just don’t have the time or energy to elaborate much more right now. It’s been a very difficult year but God is still good. Thank you all so much for being there for me and my family and helping us through this nightmare. Each of you are dearly loved and appreciated. I leave you with this blessing I pulled from one of my mom’s posts. It’s beautiful. God bless you and happy New Year!
Yesterday marked four months since my brother died. I went to his grave in search of something that I still have not fully found. I’m not sure I will ever truly find it in this life. However, with that being said, something did happen that gave me renewed hope…
It rained alot yesterday…sometimes just a drizzle, sometimes much harder. It wasn’t raining when I first reached the cemetery, though. As happens sometimes when I go there, I became overwhelmed with a torrent of questions that I may never get answered. Some of the more predominant ones are “Why? Will I ever see him again? Will I ever see my nephews again? Is there anything I could have done to prevent this?”
My emotions are unpredictable when I visit the graveside. Sometimes I’m calm, even a bit joyful remembering fond memories of Matt. This was not one of those days. Yesterday I was mostly angry and overcome with grief. I was angry at Matt. I was angry at myself. I was angry that I didn’t have the power to turn back time. And if I may be so bold and honest, angry at God. He has his reasons for not intervening on my brother’s behalf. He is Sovereign and Almighty and I am nothing without Him. I realize too that I have life far better than so many others in this world but in that moment I wanted to be selfish. I told God how I felt. It was pure raw emotion and I completely fell to pieces. My sadness set in again and was more than I could bear.
Then it started raining again, harder than before. I didn’t care. “Let it pour for all I care. I’m staying right here.” Then I had a thought that I believe was the Spirit sent to comfort me saying, “God is crying now too. He sees your hurt, pain, and anger and He cries with you…right now.”
“But, God why didn’t you save him?! I know You could have. Why not?”
And with more clarity than I’ve ever experienced, a Voice inside my head whispered, “I did.” Immediately the rain stopped and the sun shone for a moment before the next rain cloud gathered. That probably sounds hokey to some people…like it’s just coincidence or wishful thinking. But I believe it. It was real. It was much more than that. I believe God was right there with me in that moment giving me desperately needed peace and hope. I needed to know He heard me…that He cared and He did not disappoint.
Later that night, my mourning truly turned to dancing when I saw my three precious children on stage singing and living it up during their Christmas program. My boys, ages 4 and 3, each grabbed a microphone and (my oldest in particular) belted out the songs drowning out every other sweet voice. It filled me with laughter and pride to see them so happy and enjoying themselves without a care in the world. My “baby girl” didn’t do much singing but had a good time dancing a jig a time or two. Those three little ones are one of the greatest sources of joy in my life. That’s been true since conception but is especially true now. Yes, I still lose my temper sometimes. Yes, they drive me crazy at times and can seem to be the most bull-headed children on the planet (remind you of anyone? ). But there would be an enormous hole in my heart without every single one of them.
Life without Matt hurts. Life with Jackson, Josiah, and Sadie helps. And God reminds me just when I’m on the verge of forgetting that life with Him heals. I do not walk alone. I walk with Him.
It’s easy to do these days…blame someone else for your problems…blame yourself for problems not your own. How is it that we try to escape responsibility for our own mistakes while at the same time punishing ourselves for something we didn’t do? How do you avoid it?
I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately in response to Matt’s death. I’ve been blaming myself…even as I write this I struggle to remind myself that I didn’t cause this…that I couldn’t have prevented it. That’s what people keep telling me, anyway…that it’s not my fault. That there’s nothing I could have done. I want to believe that but I find myself getting caught up in the “if only”s or “what if”s and “should have”s.
You see, it had been about 2 weeks since I’d talked to my brother before he died. I knew he was under a lot of pressure and needed encouragement and even though I didn’t know how bad it really was, I still feel like I failed him. I let him down. I tell myself things like that…I should’ve known. When I heard the sadness in his voice the last time we spoke, I should have called him back right then and made him talk to me. Hearing that sadness in his voice tortures me now. I should have known. Sure, I prayed for him. We prayed for him as a family. But I didn’t call him back that night…or the night after that, or the night after that…
If you keep up with my blog, you know that I thought about calling him on the day he died. I remember it all too well. I was at Chick-fil-A with the kids watching them play in the play place. It was around 2 or 3 in the afternoon. I remember thinking… “I wonder how Matt’s doing. I should call and check on him…no, I’ll wait until tonight when our night and weekend minutes kick in. He’s probably at work anyway.” I was worried about the stupid phone bill! I hate myself for that. If I’d known it was my last chance to talk to him, I’d have emptied the bank account if that’s what it took to make the call. I don’t know when his actual TOD was. Maybe he was already gone by then. Even if he wasn’t, he may not have answered the phone. All I know is I should have tried. I should have picked up the phone right then and called. At least then it might be easier to live with myself. As it is, I feel like a terrible sister.
I just need someone to blame. I could blame Matt, and I have at times, but he’s not here and what would that solve anyway? It’s easier to blame myself. I’ve noticed that I’m a lot more easily angered and hurt these days too. I don’t have the patience I used to have with the kids…not that I ever really had a lot of that to begin with. I snap at Justin for stupid stuff. I’ve even had a few angry conversations with God. Thankfully they are all very forgiving.
The pain can just be so intense sometimes that I want to punch somebody until they hurt as much as I do…like in the movie “Steel Magnolias”. I want the world to stop and notice. I get angry with people now for just going on with life as if nothing’s happened…total strangers I mean. At other times, I feel guilty for laughing or having the slightest moment of happiness in my life. It’s irrational. I know that. But it’s reality for me right now and if it’s true that reality is my friend, then maybe speaking the truth will help heal the hurt. I miss my brother. I want him back. I want my brother back.
When I get angry at God, I realize very quickly that I’m speaking to the God of the Universe as if He’s my “buddy” who’s done me wrong. Who am I? Even the most horrific day of my life is better than what I deserve. I’m very thankful that God is merciful, kind, patient and loving. I’m thankful that He’s big enough to handle my ranting and raving. He’s big enough to know when I need to be held and when I need to be put in my place. I’m so thankful that He knows my heart. I didn’t cause this. He didn’t cause this. So who is left to blame?
Ultimately Satan is to blame. And you know what gives me comfort? God is DEFINITELY going to put him in his place one of these days! He already did about 2000 years ago at a place called Golgotha…and He’ll stick it to him again at the resurrection!
Now I’m not naive enough to think that this realization means life is going to be peaches and roses from here on out. I expect that I’ll still have bouts of anger, depression, loneliness, and guilt…all the emotions that come with grieving. In fact, I may have them as soon as an hour from now…I may have them for years to come. I’ll probably forget every now and then that Satan is to blame. I’m counting on God and friends like you to remind me of that…and to remind me that “we do not grieve like those who have no hope.” And if faith, trust, and hope are intertwined like a rope, I’ve tied a knot at the end and I’m hanging on for dear life.
P.S.-Like the song lover I am, I found another one that I really love hearing these days. It’s my prayer every day and I hope it touches your life too. May you hang on to faith, trust, and hope in Him today and every day. Blessings.
I wrote the last post a couple of weeks ago and am doing a bit better now…good days and bad days but I wanted to go ahead and post it so you can see my journey. Thanks to all of you for your prayers and support.
Cemeteries have taken on a whole new meaning now. I look around at the markers and try to imagine those left behind. Spouses, sons, daughters, sisters, brothers, moms, dads, aunts, uncles, cousins…even grandparents perhaps. How did they cope? Was the loss expected or a sudden shock? It breaks my heart to look around and find infants and children who passed. How did the parents bear the heartache? There’s always the question of why. Why did this happen?
This may sound strange but when I think about those that were left behind, I don’t feel quite so alone. I realize that although I didn’t know the one they lost, and in most cases, didn’t even know those left to mourn, they felt the same kind of emotion I’m feeling. And yet somehow they moved on.
It’s hard for me to imagine life without my little brother around. Right now I’m just taking it one day at a time…mustering the energy and resolve to continue functioning. Just getting out of bed in the morning and putting one foot in front of the other is more challenging than I thought possible. But I have to keep going. I have to function. My kids and my husband need me. My family needs me. Matt would want me to continue living.
Ironically these days time seems to go by so fast but also stand still at the same time. It’s like I’m walking around in a fog, going through the motions…possibly living someone else’s life. I keep the faith that with God’s help, time will heal the hurt but I know the scar will remain.
I used to sing alot. If there is one thing I know about my brother, it is how proud he was of my singing. (You should know…and Matt would agree…he could hardly carry a tune in a bucket.) He gave me far too much credit but it always made me feel good to hear him “singing my praises” (pardon the expression). I can hardly think of a time when he’d introduce me to someone without adding that I “had a voice like an angel” or “you should hear her sing!” It warms my heart to think about it now. Much of my “lifesong” has left me now. Not all. But a good portion. I think I’ll get most of it back eventually. I’ll keep singing for him, though, and take solace in knowing that he is one of the angels now and singing more beautifully than I ever could.
Filed under: Uncategorized — stephaniesings @ 5:23 am
This is without a doubt the saddest day of my life…and I’ve had my share of sad days. Earlier today (August 13,2009), I lost my only brother. I don’t have the energy nor the “eloquence” to add much detail. I don’t have a lot of detail to add anyway even if I wanted to. Life pretty much sucks right now. I don’t understand how this could happen. I don’t think I ever will.
I thought about Matt today and was going to call him but didn’t. Boy, do I ever wish now that I had! The last time I talked to him was at least 2 weeks ago and I remember how sad he sounded when we said our goodbyes. Why didn’t I pay more attention? I feel so helpless and keep thinking if I’d called him, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. I keep waiting to wake up from this nightmare…PRAYING to wake up. But I don’t.
Why? What purpose did this serve? For some reason I feel guilty and responsible. Maybe if I’d been more loving and supportive toward him, called more often, or told him more often just how much I loved him and would do anything to help him then maybe this wouldn’t have happened. Why didn’t he call me? Why didn’t he call anyone? Didn’t he know how much I, like the rest of our family, loved him? Did I give him any pause or reason to believe otherwise? It just doesn’t make any sense and it DEFINITELY does NOT sound like my brother. He’s a fighter, fierce competitor, and didn’t let life keep him down. He overcame many obstacles and continued to tackle hardships and setbacks head on up until the end. He made mistakes just like everyone else and took full responsibility for them and committed himself to fixing those mistakes and not repeating them. He was certainly no quitter. He wouldn’t leave his kids behind like that. He loved them far too much.
There are no words to describe how much I miss him already. I feel like a part of me has died. I’ll never talk to him again or see him at holidays. I’ll never again hear his contagious laugh or see his heartwarming smile or hug him. We won’t share family vacations or reminisce about the crazy things we did and got away with growing up. I just can’t believe he’s gone. He was the prankster of the family…the one who kept us on our toes and kept us laughing. The one you couldn’t help but adore. I’m the oldest. He wasn’t supposed to die first. Not now. Not so young. It makes me angry and sick to my stomach.
I’m trying to keep the faith in the midst of this unbelievable tragedy. I’m still in shock and it still doesn’t seem quite real. It’s like I’m living someone else’s life right now. I want my brother back! Two songs keep coming to mind as I think about him. I don’t remember the names exactly or even the artists. I’ve posted a link to one of them in another of my early posts. I think it’s called “Our Hope Endures”. In the other one, the singer describes feeling abandoned by God, wondering where He is and why there’s no answer. She ends by saying she’ll cling to what she knows, He’s there and she’s never alone…even though she doesn’t feel it. That’s how I feel right now. God is here. He sees my hurt and my pain. He cries along with me. I’m just too numb to feel it. If you know what song I’m referring to, please do me a favor and post a link to it on this site. I’d like to hear it and share it with others.
I’m writing most of this about me and my feelings (after all, this is my blog) but, of course, the entire family is devastated. That goes without saying. Really I want this to be more about Matt. I want to give you a glimpse of just how important he was to me but not only that, how important he was to so many others and what kind of person he was. He had the ability to make you laugh when you felt like crying. He knew no stranger. I envied his ability to walk up to anyone and naturally start up a conversation. He tried to see the best in everyone and everyone was his best friend. He had an honesty about him that you rarely see in people. Certainly there were things he tried to hide even from the ones who loved him most but they weren’t ever the sorts of things you’d expect. He’d share what we might call “major sins” and his desire to turn from them…atleast with me and from what he told me, his church family as well.
If you knew my brother, I’d love to hear how you remember him and stories that come to mind. Please keep our family in your prayers and I’ll try to keep you posted as plans develop. Thank you for taking the time to read this and remember to also take the time to tell those you love just how much they mean to you. Tomorrow may be too late.
I found the title and a link to the second song. The only one I could find with the original artist singing has Twilight images. Please ignore and just listen to the words.
You are probably going to think I’m making this up. Well, some of you anyway. Those who know me best will more than likely be quite certain that this actually DID happen.
Right before our move, I was to meet some ladies at a local restaurant in Gravette as a sort of goodbye luncheon. I planned to take Sadie with me so she could participate in the estrogen fest…and I confess, so I could show her off. She is the cutest little thing in the world, ya know.
Around the time I needed to leave we noticed that we couldn’t find the keys to the car. We looked EVERYWHERE! I checked my bag at least a half a dozen times and every nook and cranny we could imagine. I even checked the refrigerator. When it became apparent that we weren’t going to find them, I told Justin, “No problem. I’ll just call Nikki and ask her to come pick me up. We can keep looking when I get back. Where’s the phone?” …You guessed it… We couldn’t find the phone either.
Now we were getting a bit frantic. The clock was ticking and I couldn’t even contact my hostess to let her know I was stuck. Doing my best to remain calm I thought, “No problem. I’ll go ask our neighbor if I can use her phone to call.” …She wasn’t home. I tried another neighbor… She wasn’t home either.
By now I’m in full fledged panic mode. I’m the guest of honor and by all reasonable expectation I will also soon be called absent. When I returned home from the neighbor’s I declared that I was just going to walk. I had ten minutes to get there and if I huffed it, I might only be about five minutes late. So, off I went walking briskly and jogging a bit of the way. As I jog I hear a jingle coming from my bag. Wanna guess what it was? …Mm hmm… The keys. At this point I’m already half way there. I’m not going back home.
A little further up the road a member from church drives by and sees my sweaty self so I flag him down and ask for a ride to the cafe. (Lucky him, right?) Despite my stench, he obliges and between gasps for air I tell him the key and phone saga. Then I mentioned how I planned to ask one of the ladies at the luncheon if I could borrow their mobile to call Justin to tell him the wonderful news. “Keys are found! We don’t have to tow the car nearly 1000 miles when we move!” (I could just imagine him at home stewing and fretting and tearing up the place looking for them.) By the way, as far as the phone goes, I hoped that it was within earshot and calling would help him find it. At this, my new best friend hands me his phone and I quickly dial our number. Can you guess what happened then? ..Yup… My bag begins to sing. This is NOT normal! What is going on?! I checked this bag SEVERAL times! I mean, this is the kind of thing that happens in movies like Ocean’s Thirteen and you think, “Oh please, that is SO unrealistic. That set of circumstances would NEVER happen.”
Anyway, since I obviously have our only phone, I can’t CALL Justin to tell him our doubly good news. “Eureka! All is NOT lost! All has been found!” Thankfully, my chauffeur was kind enough to deliver the phone to my distressed husband and assure him of our keys’ safe keeping. Leroy, you’re an angel!
When Josiah said he wanted an Elijah party, I thought he misunderstood my question. After all, he’s only three. It soon became apparent that he was completely serious. Every time we asked him we got the same reply…”Ewijah Burfday”. Ok, ok….so now what?
We brainstormed for days and days (amidst packing and other moving related things). Justin wanted to build an altar and set it on fire…have the kids pour cups of water on it, he’d be last and pour a cup of gasoline on it, light a match and voila! Amazing fire! All you moms out there see the problem, though, right? Three year olds? Toddlers? Large bonfire and gasoline? Time for plan B.
Given time constraints we decided to concentrate on cake decorating, make a game of “Pin the Beard on Elijah”, read a story about Elijah, and have what would have been a chariots of fire tricycle race. (Three year olds are not known for their long attention spans.) Anyway, all in all I think it was a good day. They all seemed to be enjoying themselves and perhaps they learned something about the Bible that they didn’t know. I wonder what he’ll pick next year…
I hope to post pictures of the party once we’re moved and settled…we all know about the best of intentions though…sometimes they’re nothing but intentions. Anyway, hope for the best! Until next time…
). But there would be an enormous hole in my heart without every single one of them.
