A Belle Abroad

I love when friends bring up memories of Chris.  There are things that stick with others, but haven’t stuck with me.  I think sometimes that’s God talking.  Through our conversations.  Reminding us of the moments that have been misplaced.  The things that matter.

So when a friend brought up Chris’ obsession with Africa, it was a flood of wonderful memories coming back.  Because during many a bible study, Chris would say, “What if I’m supposed to go to Africa?  What if that’s what God calls me to do?”

It was a huge fear for him.  Not necessarily of going to Africa.  But more, the fear of being called to do something huge, and not feeling equipped.  Or not picking up on the call.  And without fail, I always reacted the same way.  “We are not going to Africa.  No.  God isn’t calling us to go to Africa, Chris.  No.  If He does, we’re hanging up.  Absolutely not.”

In hindsight, that was pretty discouraging of me.  I really should have been more encouraging, and accepting.  Not a regret, just a reflection on my wife skills.  But I digress.

The friend brought it up because of the irony in it.  Chris was incredibly focused on being called for something big.  Which meant he missed seeing the impact he was making in his daily life:  in the seemingly insignificant things.  The impact he never knew he had.

Because the impact Chris’ life made had nothing to do with digging wells in Africa, building hospitals in Haiti, or educating the inner-city kids in Chicago.  These are all wonderful endeavors, and please do not think I would infer otherwise.  But for Chris it was about the every day.  The one-on-one conversations.  Taking the time to listen.  Taking the time to visit.  Taking a moment to love others.  Treating others like his own mother, Oma, or wife.  Teaching his clients how to manage their money responsibly.  Calling friends on their birthdays.  Taking care of the bill when he didn’t have to.  Treating single female friends to a lunch.  Using his resources to love others, and to ensure they felt loved.

So here is the scarier question:

What if we’re NOT called to go to Africa?

What if our entire purpose is our everyday life?

What if our entire purpose-our calling-is the relationships we’re building each day?

What if our purpose is about forgiving that one friend?

What if our purpose is just to be kinder?  Gentler?  More caring to the neighbor next door?

What if it’s all about how we treat other drivers?

What if it’s how we treat customer service representatives?

What if it’s how we treat that guy knocking on the door, interrupting dinner?

What if it’s just about spending a few moments each day playing with the kids?

What if it’s just about complimenting our spouse?  Telling them how much we love them?  How much we appreciate them?

What if it’s about giving our grandmother a call, just to check in?

What if it’s about showing up to work and just doing a great job…without complaining about it?

What if it’s about foregoing a Craigslist ad and giving that furniture to a family in need?

What if it’s just about the daily, insignificant things?

What if the right now is the big stuff?

What if God never calls us to do something big?  Because that wasn’t our purpose.  Our purpose was the every day.

What will we do then?

“My fault, God, I was waiting for You to call me to do something HUGE.  I didn’t think spending time with my family or treating others with kindness was what you wanted from me.  I’m super talented.  I figured you were calling me for something bigger.”

It sounds so silly, but that’s what we’re saying.

And it gives it perspective.  For me, at least.

I may not get called to Africa.  Or Haiti.  Or to inner-city Chicago.

And that’s okay.

Because I have plenty to work on in my life right now.  I have plenty of opportunities to improve my kindness, patience, giving to others.  I have relationships I can improve.  Kinder words to give.  More time I could spend with family.

If I’m ready, He’ll call me for something more.  But I’m not ready.  I have a lot to work on as it is.  Chris left quite the legacy to fulfill.  I have a lot to work on just to live up to him.

I knew the day after Chris died that I needed to be a part of his eulogy.  I was one of five that spoke, including his mother, two of his friends, and his mentor.  But a while back, Chris shared the video below, so impressed with a man that could do this for his wife.  So I knew, of every honor I could provide, the greatest honor I could pay him was to speak as well.

Monty Williams’ Eulogy to His Wife

Within the first few days after he died, I had a draft of his eulogy written.  The words just came.  I don’t know where they came from, but they came.  There were edits, and re-writes.  But the meat was there.  The whole time.

I have no idea how I had the strength to walk up there.  Nor do I know how I made it all the way through.  I told those that attended that it had to be the power of their prayers.  I speak in front of people all the time, and tirelessly work on being an engaging and passionate presenter.  But nothing prepared me for this.  I just did it.

The words that follow are the words I had on paper.  To be fair, I did go off-script a bit.  But just a little.  For the most part, this is what was shared.  What so many continue to comment on.  And the words God and Chris just laid on me to say.

I am not happy that this was my path.  I don’t look back on that day with pride.  But by a power greater than me, I did it.  I was carried through it.  And it will forever be the greatest honor that I could honor him in this way, and was granted the strength to do it.

A Wife’s Eulogy for Chris Wall

I don’t know about you guys, but I feel like I’m living in a nightmare that I can’t wake up from.  But there’s a key word in there that Chris would want me to emphasize:  living.  And in some ways, I think Chris was a better teacher than me.  To him, every moment was a teachable moment, no matter who the student was.  I may have been teacher of the year, but Chris was a teacher of life.  So, let me share several lessons I learned from Chris’ too-short 34 years and his infinite wisdom.  Take from it what you will, but I think this is what Chris would want me to share.  Because he would want us all to continue living, learning, and growing.

Lesson 1:  Build the life that you want.

When we met in 2001, we realized we were done looking.  We didn’t mean to be, but we were.  Because we had this shared vision of what our lives should be like.  From there, Chris worked to make that vision a reality.

• He persevered to graduate from college, although it took him 7 years, but he worked full time for many of those 7 years.
• He knew nothing about finance or money, but by chance he took a class on personal finance, and fell in love.  From that moment forward, he pursued his newfound passion.  He read book after book about how money worked here on Earth, about managing money, the stock market, visionary investors, and what God says about money and money management.  And he used that as his cornerstone for his career.
• He never settled in careers that didn’t meet his vision.  For him it was about doing what you love and doing what makes a difference.   As 2 Corinthians 8:21 says, “For we are taking pains to do what is right, not only in the eyes of the Lord but also in the eyes of man”.  
• And after years of jobs with glass ceilings and false hope, he was offered his own Edward Jones office in Knightdale.  I remember when he got the call, I just yelled, “YES!”, because someone else finally saw what I saw in my husband.  A man with drive, compassion, vision, and honor.
• We always wanted to travel, and so he worked to make that a reality for us.  Over the past 10 years we’ve visited 15 countries on 4 different continents.  We lived for adventure.  We saw more wonders and cultures than either of us ever dreamed.  And he made that happen for us.  
• He had a vision of creating a home for us that could serve as a sanctuary, but would also have room to welcome friends and family.  It is the picture of what he always wanted.  Including the small details, like creating a home library and home theater.
• He believed his most valuable resource was his mind, so he worked to control what went into it.  He surrounded himself with people he could learn from, that uplifted, and gave wise counsel.  He found life mentors, we joined Bible Study groups, we joined men’s and women’s groups, and he clung to friends that were wiser than him.  So he could always learn, grow, and control what went into his mind.  If you were lucky enough to call him a friend, know that he didn’t make that decision lightly.  As Phillippians 4:8 says, “…whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable-if anything is excellent or praiseworthy-think about such things.”
• He spent his time, if not just hanging out with me, reading, avidly.  In 2015 alone, he read 34 books: over 12,000 pages.  And each focused on an area of growth:  personal, spiritual, financial, professional.  Even books for enjoyment were classics, that enriched his knowledge of the world.
• Every decision was measured.  If it didn’t fit into the larger goals and visions, he didn’t do it.  To him, every decision mattered.  Whether it be who to hang out with on a Friday night, to which charity to donate to, to which book to read next, to where we would go on our next travel adventure.  Every decision he made was made with purpose, and after extensive research and analysis.  As Proverbs 4:25-26 says, “Let your eyes look straight ahead; fix your gaze directly before you.  Give careful thought to the paths of your feet and be steadfast in all of your ways.”
• And above all else, he had a vision of having the means to provide for others.  Whether that meant with money, time, service…he wanted to be able to provide for his loved ones, friends, and sometimes even strangers, with whatever they needed.  And he did.  As Proverbs 11:24 – 25 says, “One gives freely, yet grows all the richer…Whoever brings blessing will be enriched, and one who waters will himself be watered.”

Lesson 2:  Cheer for the under-achiever.

This goes without saying for any State fan.  But Chris was a devout fan of underdogs.  He preferred to cheer for teams that worked their way up, that persevered, that showcased the power of one’s will and hard work.  Some of his favorite movies were stories of an underdog:  “Rudy”, “We Are Marshall”, “The Replacements”, “The Natural”.  It wasn’t just about sports; it was about the fulfillment of the work behind it for someone not expected to succeed.  Because he identified with the characters, as, surprisingly, Chris was not necessarily popular in school, or never felt like part of the “in” crowd growing up.  And I too learned that the feeling of a win for an underdog is so much more fulfilling than any other type of win.  And I learned to always be his biggest cheerleader, and any other underdog…including the Wolfpack.

Lesson 3:  Love others, and be sure they feel loved.

I’m not sure I’ve ever met a man who had as much heart and compassion for others as Chris.  I remember going on a date with him early in our relationship, and as we pulled up to a drive-thru (because we’re classy), a man walked up to his driver-side window, and asked for money.  At the time, Chris used one of his cup holders as a coin holder, and that was typically the only cash he had on him.  So without pause, he dug every coin out of his cup holder and just handed it over.  

Chris made sure that however you felt appreciated, that’s how he showed his appreciation.   That’s why we spent so many a night just sitting on the couch, or on the porch, just reading, watching a movie, or just being together.  Love to us meant quality time together.

So love others, but more importantly, make sure they feel loved.  This is probably the toughest lesson for me.  But it was one I was able to experience for 10 years of marriage with him, and I’m so thankful God blessed me with a man that adored me and made me feel loved.

There is nothing I want more than for Chris to be back here.  I think I’m most sorry that he will never become the grumpy old man he always dreamed of being.  And I would pay to hear him give each you another pep talk.  Chris would never want me to say this, but if he were here, he would be in tears too, just to hear all the wonderful things people have said about him.  And he’s heard them, he’s listening.  And if you ever need advice, just ask him. I know I’ll still talk to him.  And you’ll know which voice is his.   Whatever is right, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is loving, that’s Chris, continuing to help guide our pathways and decisions, being a voice of reason in a world of chaos.

All we have is to take those lessons that his life taught so well, and lead our own lives walking by his lead, letting his wisdom guide us.  Think of any advice he ever gave you, and use it for the rest of your life.  Because that’s all he ever really wanted.  And that’s what would honor Chris.

I don’t know what tomorrow brings for me.  But I do know I will walk by Chris’ example, learn from his lead, and let God work out the details, until I see him again.

Family:  sometimes we don’t appreciate them until we really need them.  And then, we can’t figure out what we did without them.  And if you have never met my family, well, you have certainly missed out on quite the crew.  But they are family.  They are who I feel most at home with, who love me unconditionally, and who I turn to when things turn darkest.  And for that, they deserve some praise all on their own.  Because we are not a perfect family.  Like all families, we’ve been through things.  But every time I look back, I know we have come out on the other side stronger than we were before.  And I cannot imagine going through this with a better, more supportive network.

By chance, my step-mother decided that this year we were going to get professional family pictures done during our family’s annual beach week.  By chance.  She planned it months in advance, to be sure everyone’s schedules could align with the family’s “picture day”.  I have to hand it to Quinyon Deberry of MQSC Digital: he did an amazing job of capturing our family.

After Chris died, I knew I needed to take advantage of this opportunity in a different way.  I knew I would want something taken to remember him, to honor the loss in some way.  So I got this idea from a friend’s sweet gift to me.

For our 10-year wedding anniversary, our friends had a party for me.  To be sure I wasn’t alone, to remember Chris, and to be sure I was surrounded with my “army”.  One of the many things we did was release red balloons in Chris’ honor.  It was a wonderful gesture and a great idea.

It’s a little blurry.  But when you’re trying to catch that many kids and balloons in one shot, you have to take what you can get.

So I decided I should do it again, by myself, on the beach, with a single red balloon, and with a professional photographer on-hand to capture the moment.  It seemed to fit.

Now of course there were outtakes.  The wind + balloons + me are not the best combination.

But they also turned out like this…

And like this…

And then, this…

But back to my familia.  Now, keep in mind, the picture below is a fraction of my extended family.  In fact, this is just my step-mother’s family.  Every year, we rent a few beach houses at Topsail Beach and spend a week laughing, hanging, and generally pretending we aren’t adults.

But my little family… the rock holding me up… the people that are on speed dial over everyone else… are pictured below.  And this is exactly what we’re like, all the time.

Let’s first discuss my parents.  My step-mother, Dee (in the middle, yellow bracelet), might possibly be the greatest gift to motherhood out there.  In fact, on Mother’s Day, this was my post to her.  I cannot speak truer words to this day.

Through this nightmare, this woman has held me, consoled me, fed me, made sure I shower, made sure I eat, filtered my calls, filtered my visitors, managed my social media, cleaned my house, called creditors for me, been my driver, and for many a night, just sat with me. In the army of people surrounding me, this woman has been my General. She may not have birthed me, but I couldn’t ask for a better mother. Love you, Dee Hammond.

Yes, she really is that amazing.  To know her is to love her.

My dad, Roylin (far right), is a testament to raising a strong daughter and supporting her decisions, no matter what.  Because the problem with raising a strong daughter is she is difficult, head-strong, and stubborn.  And it’s tough to get those kinds of daughters to listen to advice.  On the other hand, if you also raise your daughter to be considerate of others, to be leary of any man’s intentions, to weigh both sides of a decision equally, to follow laws but break some rules, and to face every challenge with a good attitude and good manners, you might just do okay.  Through this, my favorite words from my dad include:

“We’re here for you and support you, no matter your decision.”

And then fittingly, in a moment of insanity, as I provided a ludicrous Plan B of, “Well, I guess I could always just find some old, rich guy to marry…”, my dad had the most perfect response a dad could have:

“Katie, why is that even an option?”

Well-played, Dad.  Well-played.  Because that’s not the girl he raised.  And not the girl Chris married.  And not the girl I am.

And there are cousins.  Cousins with which the best conversations are sometimes had at 2:00am under a beach house.  This is our cousin, Jillian (middle), and as she said, the sister we never had.

And then, there is my sister.  My step-sister, Holly, to be exact.  Her husband, Kenny, and sons, Ethan and Lucas, are pictured in the picture above with our family.  And they are frequently my weekend landlords.  Let me explain.

Before Chris died, my sister and I spoke about once per year:  to plan our beach week shenanigans.  And during beach week, we laughed, hung out, and had a ball together for one fabulous week.  And then we went our separate ways.  There were holidays and such, of course.  But that’s about it.  We were not close when we were young.  We spoke rarely as adults.

But when Chris died, that changed.  She called the next morning and asked what I needed.  My response:  “You.  Here.  Now.”

She slept with me every single night that week.  She consoled me every single day.  She sent away visitors, answered my texts, made sure my glass was always full and a hug was always ready.  And that was the week of her own 10-year anniversary, when she planned to head to New York City for a much anticipated anniversary trip.  I really do owe her back on missing Jimmy Fallon.

But it didn’t end there.  See, after, when the covered dishes dwindled, and the weekends were no longer booked with visitors, she knew I needed an escape.  And she made me come to her house in Leland.  She put me up in her bonus room, fed me, made plans for me, and let me be whoever I needed to be.  And – for the most part – without judgement.

We got to the point where we spoke at least daily, and texted throughout the day.  To my shame, I hardly do that with my parents.  But at one point recently, when Holly left for a 4-day cruise, and I realized I wouldn’t be able to speak to her for that entire length of time, I actually had a little panic attack.  What was I going to do?  Who was I going to call?  Because that’s how often we chat now.  Decisions are bounced off of her.  Ludicrous happenings are shared with her first.   Moments when I need to be weak…she is my first call and first responder.

We are closer as step-sisters than many are to their blood siblings.  When we’re together, we are loud, obnoxious, and sometimes too much for people.  How in the world her husband is patient enough to keep letting me in the door is beyond me.

But mostly, we are laughing, enjoying life, and enjoying each other, just like the picture below.  Somehow, although we are quite different, we get each other.  In fact, one day she asked what was wrong.  And here was my cryptic response:

“Have you ever walked in the kitchen, and the stove is on fire?  And there’s dishes piled in the sink?  And there’s something sticky on the floor?  And the fridge is over-flowing with moldy leftovers?  And the smoke alarm is going off?  And there’s something leaking from somewhere?  That’s what’s happening right now.  In my head.”

Now, most people, given that response, would probably be lost immediately.  And maybe change the subject.  And drive me straight to a therapist.  Not Holly.  Like only a big sister could, she started with the stove and said, “Alright, so what does the stove represent?”

THAT is getting someone.  THAT is being a sister.  THAT is a bond that cannot be broken.

I know sometimes people have a tough time understanding blended families.  That’s fair.  Blood is blood, right?  Wrong.  Blood is who you make it.  Blood are the people that stand by you through it all, who love you unconditionally through it all, who are willing to look you dead in the eye and say, “Katie, you are headstrong and I won’t stand in your way.  But you are grieving and not thinking and you won’t like how this turns out.  And I’ll be here for you to love you after, no matter what.”  Who hold you up when you can’t hold yourself up, who let you crash on a couch, who show up at your house because, “[They] don’t care what you say.  You’re not going to do this alone.”

And the good stuff – the stuff that is now stronger – is family.

There’s this “Spouse’s Challenge” that’s been trending on Facebook.  You share pictures of you and your spouse, then challenge someone else to do it.  And I certainly don’t want to belittle the trend.  It’s a cute idea: a way to promote positive relations between husbands and wives.  Not so much to us living the single life and seeing the abundance of happy couples in our Facebook feed… but cute, nonetheless.  I might have even participated if Chris were still here.

But that’s what we do with social media.  We promote what we want others to see, and hide the things we don’t want others to see.  “Remember, you’re only seeing the highlights of someone else’s life,” are the words once used to explain the perception you get of others on social media.  I think this is why we – as wives, particularly – have this false sense of what marriage should look like.  Of what being a wife should be like.  Because we only show what we want others to see.  And so we don’t talk about what’s happening behind the pretty pictures.

There is a reality to marriage that we don’t like to talk about publicly.  It’s the parts that don’t always include smiles, vacations, laughter, and fun.  It’s the parts that aren’t adorable, video-worthy, or Instagram material.  It’s the stuff that makes marriage hard that we don’t publish, and hence don’t talk about.

But since my filter has dwindled over the last few months – and since I already addressed the men – it seems only fitting that I address this topic too.  Because wifin’ ain’t easy.  Being a wife is hard.  Being a wife is about much, much more than creating the perfect picture.  It’s about what happens before and after that perfect picture is taken.  Case and point…The picture above is the perfect shot, right?  Facebook, Instagram, and blog-worthy.  It says, “Come with me!  Let’s go!  To the most romantic spot in the world…”  Yeah.

When this picture was taken, we were both exhausted, irritable, hungry, snapping at each other, and really just checking sites off of our list.  In fact, Chris’ exact words as he took this picture were, “This looks ridiculous.  I’m not taking this picture.  No.  Grrrr.  Fine.  And then we’re leaving.”  And then the scam artists started flocking to us.  And our French baguettes were over-priced and under-whelming.  And we’re in this picture-perfect spot, in the most romantic city in the world, but we’re annoyed, tired, dissatisfied, and over it.

But you wouldn’t know that from the picture.  Because the picture just shows the way we think it should look in our heads; not how it is in real life.

And to be fair, I was not a perfect wife.  I have flaws and imperfections that will probably always be a work in progress.  But I did have an amazing marriage.  And I did learn a lot about how to make a marriage work, and how to make a great life together, and how to live with someone and still enjoy being with them.  So from that perspective, I’ll tell you what I know.  And maybe add in a few things I wish I had done differently.  As always, take from it what you will.

How to Be a Wife, and Still Love Him

1.)  Come to the understanding with yourself that you are not always right.  You probably do know a better way that those clothes could be folded.  But every time you correct him, you’re crushing him.  Let it go.

2.)  Every once in a while, cook breakfast for him before he gets up.  When a man wakes up to the smell of bacon, it can really change the day.

3.)  Never complain about the size of your engagement ring.  Never.

4.)   Learn your husband’s love language.

5.)  If he has favorite outfits on you, reserve those outfits for date nights.

6.)  Promote him.  Every chance you get.  Especially if he’s a business owner or provides a service to others.  Promote, promote, promote.  Don’t be ashamed.  Others will pick up on the fact that you don’t promote your husband and/or his business.  And isn’t that more shameful?

7.)  Support him having a guys’ night every now and then.  He needs it just as much as you need a night with the girls.

8.)  Be the first to say, “I’m sorry.”  And mean it.

9.)  When he takes time to explain something to you, take time to listen.  Ask questions.  Don’t assume you’ll have time later to get clarification.  You might not.  And if he’s taking time to explain, it’s probably something you need to know.

10.)  Learn to love some of the things he loves.  For me it was football, basketball, and action movies.  I definitely don’t love all football, or basketball.  And I don’t love all action movies.  But I did learn to love them enough that we could enjoy some of it together.  I also tried golf.  Once.  “You tried,” was Chris’ response after.  And the fact that I tried was enough to make him happy.

11.)  Take a minute on your anniversaries to discuss the past year.  What were the best things that happened?  What were you most proud of for yourself?  For your spouse?  In your marriage?  If you could make one improvement in your marriage for the next year, what would it be?  Then make a goal to improve.  Because your marriage and your needs change over time.  You’re never “done” working on your marriage.  Ever.

12.)  If you expect him to take on a healthier lifestyle, try it for yourself first.  Or at least be willing to tackle it with him.  Then see #23.

13.)  If he’s man enough to take a chance on an honest opportunity, support him.  Cheer him on.  Take things off of his plate of responsibilities if needed.

14.)  When you fight, fight fair.  Don’t bring up the past.  Don’t say things just to be hurtful.  Don’t call him names.  Focus on the topic.  If something is bugging you, confront it respectfully.  Ask if he has a solution before you force a solution on him.

15.)  At least make an attempt to save money at the grocery store, Christmas shopping, clothes shopping, etc.  Money does matter.  And it can run out.

16.)  Also, make an attempt at taking care of your car.  And being a responsible driver.  (Yes, I can hear the chuckles now.  I have some room to grow…)

17.)  Talk positively about your husband to others.  Yes, we all have pet peeves and things that annoy us.  And it is nice to know that our girlfriends have similar struggles with their husbands.  But at the end of the day, it’s not their business.  That’s material for you and your husband to discuss.  Stick to the good stuff with friends.  And definitely when talking to family.

18.)  Self-confidence isn’t built by one person.  It’s built by lots of people.  So take time to tell your husband how much you appreciate him.  Leave him notes at work, in his car, or on the mirror, where ever.  Tell him how much you appreciate the hard work he puts in to provide for your family.  Praise his work ethic, perseverance, or some task he’s done recently.  Tell him how proud you are to be his wife.  I didn’t do this enough.  But the times I did, I swear Chris had an inner glow for days afterward.  He walked with a different swagger.  He worked even harder.  And made me even prouder to be his wife.

Side note here:  If you’re not building up your husband, and someone else does, emotionally that person may start to replace you.  Because he will seek out those that appreciate him.  Think about it- wouldn’t you rather your husband seek you out for appreciation and affirmation, rather than another woman?  

19.)  Learn to recognize and appreciate the different ways he shows his love and adoration for you.  They might not all be your love language, and that’s okay.  He is showing you love how he knows best.  And it means just as much to him as your love language would to you.  Recognize.

20.)  When you start working 12 to 13 hours a day, and have to take significant time away from your family, re-evaluate.  Did you marry your job or your husband?  A very wise friend once taught me:

“When it comes to using your time, you’re going to have to cheat on something:  your job or your family.  There’s just not enough time in the day to dedicate adequate time to both.  Which one would you rather cheat on?”

21.)  When your husband goes in for surgery and has to be out of work for several weeks, take time off, too.  Be there to take care of him.  Even if you have the opportunity of a lifetime to present at some big conference.  Choose your husband.  Let someone else do the conference.  Or just tell them you can’t do it.  Because those moments you have with him are moments you’ll never get back.  And when this road of life is all over, you’ll want to remember more time with your family than with a group of strangers at a conference.  No matter how awesome it seems at the moment.  Choose your husband over your job.  Every.  Single.  Time.

22.)  Make some of his dreams come true too.  Or at least get out of the way.

And here’s the big one.  The one some of y’all do not want to read.  That some of you will still refuse to do.  But I will share anyway.  Because this one is the KEY to creating a great marriage.

23.)  Ladies, I am a Type A personality.  There is no question.  And I married a man who was also a Type A personality.  Two Type A’s do not make an A+ relationship.  Unless you work at it.  So trust me, I know your struggle.  But this is absolutely, without a doubt, how to make it work.

Wives:  stop talking.  Just stop.  Stop demanding he do things your way.  Stop telling him he is wrong.  Stop demanding your opinion be heard.  Stop complaining, explaining, reminding, and lecturing.  Because it doesn’t matter how it sounds to you.  It matters how it sounds to him.  And to him, it is nagging.  So just stop.  And try this instead.

For one month, stop bugging him.  Stop putting in your opinion.  Stop explaining another way.  Instead, keep your mouth shut.  Just say, “It’s up to you.”  Don’t put in your opinion.  Let him make the decisions.

For the first few weeks, he will make decisions on his own.  And he will be happy.  You’ll see his shoulders raise.  You’ll see his posture change.  You won’t agree sometimes with the decisions he makes.  It’s okay.  You’ll survive.  But you will see him change.

And then, out of the blue one day, he’s going to ask your opinion.  Be careful how you respond.  This isn’t your opportunity to lay out your entire dissertation on the matter.  This is your opportunity to provide one small sentence of an opinion.  “What do YOU want to do?”  Then say, “I like that idea.  I might prefer this way.  But I trust your decision.”  And stop there, with that last key phrase.  That you trust…

And then it will happen again.  And again.  And eventually, he will truly want your opinion.  Eventually, your opinion will be the one he actually wants, and that doesn’t cut him down.  Eventually, you will be equal decision-makers in the family.

But you have to stop talking first.

I know it’s hard.  I did it myself.  I recognize the struggle.  But ladies, I swear.  Stop talking and just listen.  Because it builds him up.  It shows him he is respected and trusted to be the decision-maker.  It shows him he is worthy of this job he was called to do.  Anything else says otherwise.  And there is nothing more heart-breaking than a man whose respect has been stripped away by his wife.  If you want to be married to a man, let him be the man.

Trust me on this one.  That’s the real spouse’s challenge.  That’s the marriage worth celebrating and promoting.  And that’s what will make your marriage real, and wonderful.  Both in front of the cameras and behind them.

There are 4 reasons:

1.)  Because my widowhood mentors recommended it.

2.)  Because I didn’t trust myself to determine how I was really doing.

3.)  Because it’s not fair to friends and family to do it for me.

4.)  Because there’s some really dark stuff.

Let me elaborate.

Because my widowhood mentors recommended it.

When tragedy strikes, a “secret brigade” comes out.  The brigade you never knew existed, because you never needed to know they existed.  The brigade that has gone through it before.  In my case, other widows.

And since this is a path I had not traveled, but they had, I became a mentee for several who had already traveled the path before me.  Some adopted me, some just showed up, some I requested.

And if I’m being honest, all of them recommended going to see a grief counselor.  ALL.  The men, the women, the leaders, the strong ones, the weak ones, the ones I identified with, the ones I didn’t.  All of them said, “Get a grief counselor.  It helps.  A lot.  Trust me.”

Which is why we always need mentors in life.  They’ve walked the path before.  And because of that-because they’ve actually experienced our path-we can trust their judgement.

Because I didn’t trust myself to determine how I was really doing.

I know myself pretty well.  Better than anyone, really.  And I quickly checked Pinterest for a list of the stages of grief, approaching it just like a checklist.  “Yes, I experienced denial.  For a few hours.  I’m good there.  And anger, yeah that happened for a little bit.  Bargaining?  I think so…maybe.  Yes, I think I’m in depression.  What does it say about depression?  Yeah, that sounds like me.  Kind of.  What’s that last step?  Acceptance?  Well I’ve accepted it.  So I’m through the grief process!  All done!  Yay!”

That was an actual conversation.  After one week.

Yes, I cannot trust myself.

I needed a professional.

The grief process is no job for my incessant optimism.

The grief process can only be navigated by a professional.

Trust me.  I’ve been there.

Because it’s not fair to depend on friends and family to do it for me.

Friends and family, do not be offended on this one.  Because you are amazing.  So amazing.  So perfectly, extraordinarily amazing.  I don’t deserve you.  I love you more than all of the gelato in Italy.  More than all the corgi’s in England.  More than all the sweet tea at Bojangles’.

But you know me.

The problem with knowing me is you become subjective.  No matter your background, your training, your life experience, your knowledge level, you cannot un-know me.  And knowing someone shades your ability to give objective advice.

Even if my friends and family were trained counselors, it would still be a mistake to not get an objective opinion.  Because you are jaded by your knowledge of the other person.  Your objective opinion is affected by the aftermath – how it will change your relationship with the person, what you know about them personally, that time they didn’t listen to you, making an assumption that you think you know what they meant to say rather than what they actually said.

And my friends and family are grieving with me.  Most of them knew Chris.  And they are struggling with the loss too.  It’s not fair to their grief process to depend on them to get me through my grief process.  They are not emotionally equipped.  They are not professionally equipped.  They are not personally equipped.

They are equipped to be my forever supporters.  They are equipped to be my forever family.  They are equipped to be on speed dial when I hear a bump in the night.  Or when I need to know which shoes to wear.  Or when I need to just be with people.  They are already doing so much.

They are not equipped to get me through the stages of grief.  They do too much for me already to depend on them to do that too.

Because there’s some really dark stuff.

I know it seems like I post all the deep, dark, heavy stuff on here.  I don’t.  I post the stuff I’m willing to share with others.  I post the stuff that I can live with myself for sharing on the world wide web.

But there are things too dark.  There are emotions too heavy, too raw, too deep.  Those I cannot put on the world.  Those need to be dealt with by a professional.  Those need to be handed to a third party.

Imagine that you’ve worked on push lawnmowers your whole life.  You know the parts, the mechanics, the electrical system, and the glitches inside and out.  You are a lawnmower engine expert.

And then one day, someone brings you the engine for a Tesla, and says, “Hey, you’re good with engines.  My new Tesla won’t start.  Can you take a look at it?”

First of all, you need to return your brand new Tesla if it already won’t start.  But back to the lawnmower expert:  this engine is not one you’re accustomed to.  This engine is, honestly, out of your league.  You need to go to an expert.  You need to go to a mechanic who knows the Tesla engine like you know lawnmower engines.  It’s a completely different beast.  It doesn’t mean you’re not great at what you do.  It just means someone handed you something that you’re not an expert with yet, and you need to seek help from someone who is an expert.

That’s what I’m doing.  For the really deep, dark, heavy emotions, I’m going to a professional.  A professional who deals with the Tesla of emotions.  Someone whose specialty is grief.  Because I need my Tesla to start again someday.  To run.  To get me a little further than the driveway.  To get me back on the road of life.

I need a professional.  So that when I get back on the road, I know I’ve been cleared by a professional.  I didn’t check under the hood myself and just see that nothing was smoking, so I must be okay.  I didn’t just trust friends to see that all the caps were on tight, so I must be alright.  I didn’t just trust family to kick the tires, see they were inflated, and determine I must be ready to go.

I need to be cleared completely.  From bumper to bumper.  Every part.  By a specialist.

Because my mentors said so.

Because an objective opinion is a needed opinion.

Because my army does enough already.

Because this is too big to trust to myself.

And last week, my Tesla was cleared for the road of life.

We all have our own little coping mechanisms for getting through life’s rough patches.  But this is a little more than a “rough patch”.  And what I’ve found over the last few months is what I need one day might be completely different from what I need the next.  My coping mechanisms evolve.

So here are a few ways I’m coping, getting through, and making it down this road.  Some were temporary fixes.  Others continue to be my go-to’s.

Bubble Wrap

Seriously.  It arrived on my front porch in this massive garbage bag.  And I remember thinking – because stranger things have happened – Hmm, I don’t remember ordering a bag of trash from Amazon.

But then I remembered a friend mentioning she’d ordered me a “big roll of bubble wrap”.  It was her husband’s idea, actually.  And it was just as wonderful as you imagine.

Paint Parties

There is something seriously wrong with people who choose to work with middle schoolers.  But those that choose that path have an eternal bond of friendship…or something.  So it only makes sense that even after years of not working with my middle school family, they still stepped up, out of the darkness, to support me.  Their ingenius idea: a private paint party for me.  It included wine, designer cheese, gourmet banana nut bread, guac, fresh fruit, veggies, 80’s pop music, and these giraffes.  And excessive laughing.  And maybe some cursing, followed by more laughing.

Because the bond created while managing teenage mutiny never breaks.

And then I painted the matching elephant a few weeks later.

Adult Coloring Books

I found one randomly sitting on my desk at work, as a gift.  A best friend brought me another.  And then, an actual grief counselor recommended it.  Judgers, step back.

Porch-Sittin’

On the days when it’s that perfect, beautiful, Southern sunshine, my screened-in porch is a sanctuary.  I’ve always loved our porch, and always referred to it as “my happy place”.  But through this, it has become something more.  I’ve had many a deep conversation out there.  Over many cups of coffee or glasses of wine.  Made decisions, discussed “the bigger picture”, laughed at old memories, and cried at others.  Even sitting alone, listening to the world wake up or go to sleep, is therapeutic.  And since it only holds so many people, it’s the perfect size for someone who prefers small groups over large crowds, like me.  It has been my place of peace, my at-home church, my sanctuary of solitude.

People

I spent several years attempting to convince Chris that I was actually an introvert.  But loss makes you question things; makes you re-evaluate.  And I’m questioning this one a lot.  Because I’ve found that I don’t do “alone” well.  And I now prefer having plans over not.  Low-key plans over parties.  A few friends over a lot.  As long as they’re people that love me.  That don’t judge me.  That just want to hang out.  Those people make things better.

Music

What is it about a melody that just soothes the soul?  Before, music was just an added bonus in life.  Now, it is a necessity.  I have something playing at all times in my house, on the porch, in the car, where ever.  I will dance.  I will sing.  Or just sit and take it in.  Because it soothes my soul.  Sometimes it’s Eric Church, or Imagine Dragons, or Rehab, or Maren Morris, or Kid Rock, or 80’s rock, or Chris Stapleton, or maybe even Everlast.  And seriously, if you see me singing in the car at the top of my lungs, with the speakers turned way up, and the windows rolled down, know that I’m well aware of what I look like.  And I. Do. Not. Care.

Gardenias

How, on God’s green Earth, my work family knew to buy me a gardenia is a mystery within itself.  I am horrible with plants.  Heinous.  I can kill a cactus.  And I’ve never, ever, ever mentioned my obsession with the smell of gardenias to them.  But somehow, they knew to buy me a gardenia tree.  They potted it for me in a self-watering pot.  And as soon as it started blooming, the intoxicating smell reminded me why I love it so much.  The scent took me back to my grandmother’s house on the Pamlico Sound – my favorite place as a child.  And walking down memory lane, I was surrounded with a happiness from the past.

So the gardenia sits by me on the porch.  In my present-day sanctuary.  And each time the breeze is just right, I’m taken back to my former, childhood sanctuary.  And the happiness is doubled.  And the world feels beautiful again.

Cooked Cookie Dough

I can no longer tell how often my blog has been shared.  And I was insanely busy at work when the following transpired.  But I had to stop to really get this moment.  Because this was something special.  This was a big deal.

A friend and co-worker “church-hopped” to my church after attending Chris’ service there.  And she brought friends.  And then shared my blog to explain how she found it.  He was so touched after reading it, he felt compelled to send me a gift.  His was gift was this incredible plate, covered in this other-worldly “cooked cookie dough”.

Yes, I do realize that “cooked cookie dough” seems like cookies.  I can promise you what I experienced was not just cookies.  They were magical.  Like someone had taken globs of cookie dough, and somehow, through some sort of Patronus charm, made them un-raw.  I ate 3.  Before lunch.

This all came from a complete stranger.  Someone who only knew me through a mutual friend.  Someone who read my words, and was so inspired -so touched- that they took time to send me a thought-out, homemade gift.  This is a big deal.  This is a game changer.

Because I don’t write so that I can get free cookies.  I kind of wish I did, because…cookies.  But, no.  I write because it’s therapeutic.  I write because there are too many thoughts to just leave sitting there in my head.  I write because if the words sit unwritten in my head, they are just rotting, decaying, maybe even poisoning.  They need to come out.  And sometimes, I guess, my words help others.  Writing is incredible therapy in itself.  But as someone whose internal mantra is “here to serve”, the fact that it helps others, grieving or not, gives this all a little more purpose.  It gives me a little more purpose.

And for that, I think I’ll go have another cookie.  While I color.  And debate where to hang my giraffe.  After I pop some bubble wrap.  On the porch.  Intoxicated by the smell of gardenias.  Making plans with a friend.  With my speakers on 10.

It still feels like a punch to the gut.  Because Chris was one of the good ones.  And if we lost one of the good ones, that means any of us could go.  So we’re all now sitting here, questioning our mortality.  Thinking about life, and death, and legacies, and the reality of it all.  Because now it’s a little more real.

And some of you are reflecting on Chris’ life, thinking, “Wow!  He lived such an amazing life in just 34 years.  He made such an impact.”  And others of you – because you’ve told me – have commented how at peace I am.  Which brings up the bigger questions.  The questions that no one wants to ask:

“What did he do to prepare?  What happened that she is so at peace right now?”

It’s normal for things like this to get us thinking about our mortality.  Particularly men:  the protectors, the providers, the adultier adults (sometimes).  So you reflect on your own life, as you observe mine, and ask yourself new questions.  “Have I prepared enough?  Have I done everything I should?  Have I lived?”

I can’t answer those questions for you.  But I can give you a perspective as the wife of Chris Wall.  But be aware:

• I am biased.  I was lucky enough to be loved and adored by a truly incredible man for 15 years.  The following is based on the love and respect he showed me in our relationship and marriage.
• Some may be more relevant to one gender over another.  Apply as appropriate, based on your role.  I can only speak from my perspective in my role as a wife.
• If some of the items below ruffle your feathers, that is your issue, not mine.

Life:  The Chris Wall Way

1.)  Never settle for a job that doesn’t meet your family’s needs.

2.)  Never be afraid to take a chance on an honest opportunity.

3.)  When you make life plans as a couple from the beginning, stick to those plans.  Set goals, until every piece of that vision is complete.  If you said you’d make her dreams come true, don’t just hope they come true while she’s asleep and dreaming.

4.)  Commit to the woman you love.  Put a ring on it.  Don’t be the guy that strings along a girlfriend because “we don’t need to get married”.  Be man enough to put on the manliest piece of jewelry a man can wear.

5.)  Before you ask her to marry you, first ask her dad for permission.

6.)  Make a will.  Now.  Go to an attorney.  Create it.  With her.  Now.  Not “next year”, not “when we have time”, not “when life calms down”.  Now.  The crazier life is, the more you need a will for when life unexpectedly gets worse.

7.)  Get life insurance.  Right now.  Your age has nothing to do with when you need to get life insurance.  Get at least enough life insurance to cover twice the debt you have.  And keep in mind anyone who might depend on your income in the future.  Because the loss of you will be hard enough.  Don’t make money another burden that adds to the grief.

Disclaimer:  The formula recommended by an actual financial planner for a man and woman is one year of income divided by 0.06.  So if you make $100,000, this will equate to needing $1.6 million in life insurance for your dependent.  If you have children, you need to up that number.  A lot.

8.)  If you’re drawn to Christ, make the commitment to Christ.  And then share your testimony with others, passionately, every time you get the chance.  Not on social media.  But through actual relationships with others.

9.)  Make it a priority to set goals as a family.  Then discuss your goals and your progress yearly, monthly, even weekly.  Share your personal goals with your wife.  Keep each other accountable.

10.)  Use your wife as your #1 advisor.  Before you make big decisions or big purchases, consult with her first.  Treat her like an equal partner, like the one that has to share equally in the consequences of your decisions.  Because she does.  And her opinion matters.

11.)  Take the time to use correct grammar and spelling.  Even when you text.  It’s a turn-on.  Trust me.

12.)  Speak positively about your wife to your friends, neighbors, co-workers, buddies, family, and anyone you meet.  Compliment her when she’s not around.  Don’t let needless insults sneak in.  Your issues with her are for the two of you to discuss, not a topic of conversation with your buddies.  Always, every time, stick to the good stuff.

13.)  If you expect something of your wife, model it first.  Don’t expect a behavior from her that you wouldn’t do yourself.

14.)  Treat everyone as if they were your own grandmother.  In fact, make it your business mantra that if you “wouldn’t do it for your grandmother, mother, or wife, you won’t do it”.

15.)  Pray together.  If no one else volunteers or wants to, volunteer yourself to lead the family in prayer.  Every meal and every time prayer is needed.

16.)  Forgive.  When others hurt you, don’t listen to your advice, or offend you, forgive them.  Move on, let it be water under the bridge, without holding a grudge.  Be the bigger man and love them just the same.

17.)  Call your parents.  Visit your family.  Don’t find an excuse to get off the phone when they call.  Talk to them, and listen.  You might not agree with everything they say, and that’s okay.  Just be there anyway.  Show them you love them.

18.)  Whatever you’re passionate about, make that your career.  If you can’t, at least dedicate time to it.  Don’t let your passions be a dream, a wish, or a regret you never tackled.

19.)  Whatever you’re in charge of in your household, get organized with it.  Make it so organized that if you were gone tomorrow, your wife could pick up where you left off, with few to no questions.  If it’s lawn care, have a schedule, or ask her to join you one day to tackle it.  If it’s the household finances, keep the monthly bills, usernames/passwords for accounts, long term plans, etc. in a spreadsheet that’s easy to find.  If it’s household maintenance, have a list of contact people that you trust on-hand that is discussed and easily found.  Or go ahead and have her add them as contacts in her phone.

20.)  Treat her like an equal.  If there’s something you want to protect her from, do so without withholding the information she needs to know to deal with it herself, just in case.

21.)  As soon as you realize you have a problem with your temper, fix it.  Figure out how to control it.  Don’t allow there to be “that one time things went too far”.

22.)  Tell your wife she’s beautiful.  Every time you think it.

23.)  Tell your wife you love her.  Every day.

24.)  Make plans for your anniversaries.  And if you’re afraid Plan A could fall through, make a Plan B.  Just in case.  Don’t leave her with disappointment because you didn’t plan ahead.

25.)  Learn your wife’s love language.

26.)  Just once, ask your wife to meet you at a car dealership.  Point to a line of shiny new cars and say, “Pick one.”

27.)  Take your wife to the mall for her birthday one year.  Patiently persist through 3 hours of shopping, just to ensure she gets the exact designer purse she wants.  And never once comment about the ridiculous price.

28.)  Don’t be afraid to not watch what everyone else is watching.  Yes, zombies, dragons, and female prisoners are entertaining, but do they enrich you?  Be okay with protecting what goes into your mind, and watching shows a little more intelligent and a little less raunchy.  Better yet, read a book instead.

29.)  Read books that enrich you, that teach you.  Read about leadership, marriage principles, positive thinking, how-to guides, whatever.  But read for the purpose of building your mind.

30.)  Surround yourself with people you look up to and respect.  Find mentors and friends that you can learn from.  If your friends bring you down, get you in trouble, or are on a different life path, don’t be afraid to loosen the friendship tie.

31.)  Teach and share your knowledge with others.  Knowledge is power, but not if you keep it all to yourself.  Teach others to fish, and then teach them to love fishing.

32.)  Don’t be afraid to love others.  But more importantly, don’t be afraid to ensure they feel loved.  It’s easy to send a card just to be able to say, “Hey, I reached out.  I did my part.”  Take the bigger step – the braver step – and actually love them enough that they feel loved.  As Carl W. Buehner first said, people may not remember everything you did, but they will remember how you made them feel.

33.)  Be the friend, the husband, the brother, and the son that you would want to have.

34.)  Rush home to your wife and family, every day.  It’s okay to choose a night at home with family over everything else.  It’s even okay to make that choice every night.

I am not a man, a husband, a brother, a dad, an uncle, a nephew, or a son.  But I was a wife, his best friend, and the love of his life.  And I was his equal.

So from my perspective, the list above provides a glimpse of how he faced every day, how he saw the world, and how he walked this earth as a man.  Take from it what you will.  And know that every bit you take from it means another incredible human being will walk this earth.  And the legacy Chris never even knew he left will live on.

I have a lot of questions for God.  More than I ever thought I would.  I am not angry at Him for the path I am on, nor for Chris no longer being a part of our lives.  Nor for the list of other things we are all now dealing with.  But I do have a number of questions.  Most of those questions can be summarized in one short, overly simple, but confounding sentence.

Why?

I have some theories of my own; some ideas as to what the purpose of all this, and what good may come of it.  I have ideas about why some events are necessary, why paths are curving in odd ways, and why there seems to be an abundance of suffering, all happening at once.  Some of my theories may even be correct in the end.

But the truth is that it’s not my right to know why.  I am not entitled to answers or His understanding.  It is not my role to know the bigger picture.  It is God’s, and only God’s.  And as tough as that is to accept, it is necessary – even crucial – that I accept this one simple fact.  I may never know why.  It is not my right to know why.  And that’s okay.  Because it’s not my role to know everything, and to know why.

My role is not to have all the answers, to understand all of the reasons, and comprehend the bigger picture behind it all.  My role is much simpler.  Much more succinct.  My role is much less confounding, much less abstract, much easier to fathom.

My role is me.

My role is to make time to talk to God.  Or at least be silent with Him.  My role is to serve the needs of others to the best of my ability.  My role is to learn to speak with kindness to everyone I meet.  My role is to walk with goodness, kindness, compassion, and (sigh) patience.  My role is building my relationship with God, to learn from His son, and to use Him as my example in being the best possible version of myself I can be, in the time I have on Earth.  That is my role.  Have you met me?  That’s a big role.  I have a lot of work to do.

And I don’t need to understand every single reason behind all of God’s ways to do this.  I don’t even understand basic Physics, nevermind more complicated matters, like the mind of God.  That’s for God to understand.  That’s for God to deal with.  That’s God’s role.

No, my role is me.  And understanding that I am only responsible for me helps a lot.

It means that I’m only responsible for my decisions, and no one else’s.

It means I only have control over my actions, and no one else’s.

It means I can only control my attitude, and not that of others.

It means I am only responsible for my own emotions, and not the emotions of those around me.

It means I can only control my perception of others, but not necessarily others’ perceptions of me.

It means at the end of the day, when I reflect back on every moment, I can only take responsibility for my own actions, emotions, reactions, thoughts, and words.  Just mine.  No one else’s.

It means I am responsible for what I do with the cards I am dealt.  How I react, how I adjust, how I move forward.

That is my role.  My role is the right size for me – the perfect size for me.  Because my role is me.