Mourning with children

I envy the kids some times. They have such a way of compartmentalizing.  They escape through play,  reading and imagination. Yet one moment they are happy as a lark, laughing and having a blast, and then the next they are curled up in a ball sobbing in your arms. Tonight was one of the sobbing in a ball nights. Caleb threw the biggest monster of a tantrum unlike any I've ever seen- over not being able to see a movie tonight. The hysterical crying finally ceased a solid hour later as he whispered, "I really miss daddy" and fell into my arms to fall asleep as I rubbed his back. He has reverted back to thumb sucking constantly. Kay followed his tantrum up less than fifteen minutes later with her own breakdown, so sad and so mad. I hold them as they sob, begging God to lessen their pain. I don't know how to comfort them; how to give them solace, so I play music. Songs about God holding them, God loving them, God our good, good father. I spent my whole life trying to protect them and in one minute their safety is shattered. Pray for my kiddos.

Things that suck

If you came to the funeral or wake you probably heard me say one of two things, or both. "God is faithful" and "This really sucks!"  I am really eloquent with words aren't I?  It is interesting to overhear people talk about you. I know that I am still in shock. I have waves of grief that hit that take my breath away and make me feel like I am drowning. Other times I feel completely numb. I can't feel anything: fear, sadness, anger, hope, happiness, joy, thanksgiving. I can see why God designed us to have shock. It make life bearable while I have to go through the motions of calling a million places, repeating over  and over that my husband is dead and I need to change our whole life.  It allows me to still parent my children, and smile when a chubby baby smiles at me, and laugh until I cry at a silly game of Beanboozled that Josh would have loved.

However, shock also means that people make comments about "how it isn't real yet to me", and "She's just going through the motions", "just wait three months until it really hits"  and "we will see if she will still call the Lord faithful months from now". And to be honest, I think those same things.   Fear wells up in me. I am so afraid that if I feel like this now what will three months, six months and a two years from now look like. I am afraid of the pain to come. I am afraid of when the shock wears off. I am afraid of becoming a bitter woman who rejects God. Let it not be so. For who and what would I be with the God who holds me in the palm of His hand as I sob. The God who comforts me. The God who makes such extravagant promises to be my rock and my refuge, my shelter in times of trouble, my love. To this God of love and faithfulness I cling as He holds me. He holds my children. Pray they continue to cling to Him, love and trust Him as they do now. Pray this drives us to more fully to Him, seeking and trusting Him with all things. Pray I focus on getting through today, and not the fear of what is still to come.

In the meantime, death really SUCKS!

So does not having a clue how to work your tv because your husband always did it. The death one just sucks a million trillion times more.

Thanksgiving

I am continually overwhelmed and humbled by the extravagant generosity of those around me.  If nothing else, it makes me so aware of the important of the body of Christ. It gives me a vision of what God designed our church to be- the hands and feet of Jesus. I never wanted to be in the "care for the widows and orphans" category, but to see it done by our church, school, work, family and friends with such fierce love and compassion brings me to my knees with thanksgiving.  I thank God for surrounding me with such a community. I sometimes joke that the girls broke me in for accepting help- the other time in my life when I felt so helpless to make it alone. That far pales in comparison to now. Accepting help from so many can be hard. Yet at this point I am so overwhelmed with the enormity of the loss of my beloved, I can just sit here and humbly accept the help with thanks to God for his provision.

To church again

Today was the first day driving ourselves back to church. The last times we have been there have been for the funeral and then last week when my entire family came. I was blessed today to have my sister and nieces and nephews come, along with a friend from church who brought us chai teas. In some ways going to church is one of those really hard things to do now. Due to Josh's work schedule, I have become used to do many things solo in the evenings. I'm already used to social events without him, driving kids to school, doing bedtime routines solo. However, Sundays were our day together. He always drove. We'd sit side by side, or with kids piled on top of our laps. When they'd leave for SonLight City,  I'd slide my hand into his coat pocket to have mine engulfed by his huge paws.  We'd both sing off key as we praised our God together.  As we'd drive home we'd discuss what we learned from God's Word that day. He'd always have insights that I'd miss as the way he'd approach the world was so different than me.  We'd get home and immediately the football game would go on. I'd cuddle in the blanket next to him.  Every other Sunday we'd head to our Small Group Bible Study. We had a few years where we yearned to find a small group to join together. It was always a challenge with his crazy work schedule. However, we finally found one we loved that worked for us. Sunday evenings. He loved getting food together, and off we'd go to fellowship with others who loved the Lord too. I cherish deeply the time we had spending time with God and friends together.
We went to church today because I love the Lord. We went because I want my children to understand and know that in our family God is first. We went because even though it breaks my heart over and over to not have Josh beside us worshipping God, I choose to still worship and love God first and foremost. We go because I need to be elevated above my circumstances to be humbled and held by God's mighty and loving hands.  My children didn't want to go today. It hurt to hear their pain and their whining. I get how hard it is and yet I need us to go. I need them to know God is faithful and loves them. For I am resolved to follow the Lord, no matter the circumstances. Pray my children can praise God at home and church. Pray for strength for each new day. Pray they desire and want to go to church where we can be surrounded by love, support and God's Word. Pray that God grow our dependence and faith in Him more each day.

Young widows club

At the library today, I overhead a woman talking about me. Can you say awkward!?! I guess her daughter went to school with my sister. She didn't even know I was there until she looked over and spotted me. Then she went on for ten minutes about how it had to be divine intervention I was there because she was just talking about me and this other woman ran a young widow support group. UGh! Who wants to be a member of the young widows club? Involuntary membership, irrevocable.

I'm only two weeks in and I already hate it.  Half the time I see tears and know people are looking at me in horror as seeing me brings up every fear they imagine as they picture it happening to themselves.  It isn't supposed to happen to someone 'young', or their age, or with children. I can see the thoughts swirling, "If it can happen to her than it can happen to me". I get it. I have similar thoughts and fears when I hear of children dying or sickness or cancer. You instantly put yourself in their shoes and then internally cringe away in horror at the thought, praying "not me God". There are some who I know love me and will be there even in the heartbreak, muck and mire of the years ahead. Others I can already tell I am the rain on their parade of life. And I hate being rain. I love being sunshine.

Funerals

A funeral is a lot like a messed up wedding. You pick songs and Bible verses, have a pastor speak, make newspaper annoucements, pick a menu and food, see all your favorite family and friends, and receive lots of gifts and cards. You feel loved by all those who came, and feel like you have no time to really talk to anyone. Yet, your beloved isn't there, and instead of walking down the aisle to meet your waiting love at the front, instead you are walking down the aisle before a casket with vows of love and faithfulness 'till death do us part' ringing in your ears.  Yep, definitely like a messed up wedding. So depressing I can't even take it.

In all reality, I loved the funeral as much as one can love a funeral. They posted the audio for it on the church's website and I have listened to it over and over again. Hearing loved one from school, work, family and friends share about Josh in the eulogies make me even now laugh and cry. I loved hearing about my beloved, seeing him from different perspectives. Hearing how funny, kind, loving, compassionate, "wicked smart", and sassy he was.  He was such a good cook, a technology nerd, and so hospitable and giving. He was amazing. Pastor did an amazing job with the message. The love of the Lord never ceases. When he stopped and spoke directly to my children and had them pinkie swear to always talk to me and give hugs, my heart overflowed. I need them to know how much I love them, how much I want them to talk to me about anything, and most of all how much we all need to resolve to love God and trust him with all our heart, mind, and strength through this. God is faithful. He loves them and us so much. I don't understand why this happened, but I do know that God loves us and will carry us each day through this.

A wife's funeral eulogy

Twelve years ago Josh and I chose some of these same favorite songs to sing to one another at our wedding: “In Christ Alone”and “Blessed be the Name of the Lord”. A somewhat odd choice for a wedding. We chose these songs because of their truth for us both.  And yet, even as we contemplated choosing those many years ago, we discussed, ‘are we really picking these songs?’. I mean really it was a wedding and while we were committing to bless the Lord when the streams of abundance flow and in a land of plenty which is easy to do; we were also promising to bless God’s name even on the road marked with suffering and when the darkness closes in.  We had many discussions before and after choosing these songs about the hard truth asked of us- committing to praise God, committing to trust God, committing to rest in God when our lives were filled with darkness, storms, suffering, and fear. And yet each time at church these songs were sang we’d hold hands and commit yet again to these very things. Josh loved the Lord so much. He was a quiet man of faith that demonstrated his trust in God through his actions, the way he treated his children and me. Oh what a servant he was. Do you know this man of God made lunches every day for his children at 3am, has been my personal chauffeur since the day he first asked to borrow my car for a ride and I said ‘yes, as long as you promise to drive’; who would eagerly volunteer to host and cook for countless people because he loved to serve.  Sonow as we have lost our father, and my beloved, we choose, his children and I, who each night this week all piled in a king bed at my parent’s have sang through tear soaked pillows the truth that though our beloved was taken away, our heart will choose to say Lord, blessed be Your Name. We cling to the promises In Christ Alone, that Sin’s curse has lost its grip on Josh as he was bought with the precious blood of Christ . Josh stands in victory with Christ. He is redeemed and called home. Oh the sweet,sweet crushing sorrow and yet comfort that comes with that. We weren't ready but Josh is called home to heaven. We will see him again some day. And as we wrote on his headstone, “The Steadfast Love of the Lord Never Ceases. Until We Meet Again.” And so we choose to say, “Blessed be the Name of the Lord”. 

So dear, dear family and friends I beseech you to pray for my children and I not just these forever long and yet short few days, but for the months and years to come when the reality of never having another hug, never holding hands again, and never hearing his deep laugh again sets in. Pray for comfort, for provision, for shelter in the wings of the Most High God. Pray when the darkness closes in each night suffocating us with sorrow and sleepless nights, that we continue to cling to our Lord, trusting Him even as our world has fallen apart. Pray for my dear sweet children that they continue to daily commit to loving and trusting God for all the days of their lives even as they now have faith that leaves me in awe and is in so many ways a testament to the kind of father Josh was. Pray for his parents and family who should never lose a son and brother so young that they would have comfort and cling to God in the midst. Pray for us dear friends and family, for we are weak but God our Savior is strong. 

Shattered

Josh died last week Monday. 1/2/17.  I write those words and they still seem surreal.  He was laying on the couch one moment watching football and the next he was gone. "Daddy is snoring funny mommy." I don't know if I will ever get the images of the next few hours out of my mind: slapping him in the face, screaming for the girls to find my phone as I dinged it frantically, begging 911 to hurry, trying desperately to roll him off the couch and then dumping him on his face, chest compressions until I was sweating and out of breath. Finally help.... that didn't actually help in the way I wanted. Caleb was so impressed to have helped the police officer to know where to go, scared and yet not realizing what really was happening. Me begging for the EMTs to save him as they wouldn't let me near. Callling everyone near until my sister finally answered. Running barefoot to the neighbors begging them to watch the kids so I could get to the hospital. Praying so desperately on the way that God would save him. Staring at the black watch band of the doctor as he told me they did everything they could. Hearing in a black hole but unable to speak. The girls and Caleb didn't know what they were walking into. Never expecting daddy dead as they came to visit. The pain ripping through as I broke their hearts with words that shattered mine. Repeating truths. God is faithful. God loves daddy. Daddy is with Jesus in heaven. Daddy loved you all so much. Words said over and over so they would sink in and be true even as I silently begged the nightmare to end. The nightmare doesn't end.

The next week was full of decisions, people, visitations, funerals. Tears. We hid for a week at my parents, afraid of going back home to the reality setting in. Afraid of seeing where he died again and reliving the nightmare I see each night in my head in real life. Music was the balm for my soul: "In Christ Alone", "Blessed be the name of the Lord", "Amazing Grace". Be held. I clung to God, repeating truths to my children and myself about the Lord's faithfulness, love, trustworthiness, mercies.  There was such an outpouring of love and support and FOOD. Yet, I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't believe it was true. This coudn't be my life.

Moving?!

The funny thing about moving is that you say you are moving but really it just means that you are putting your house on the market and waiting..... and waiting... and waiting... until, hopefully, one day some person wants to buy it. Hmm...not my favorite set up. :/   We worked pretty much all of April to get the house ready to sell: painting, trim work, mulching, weeding, washing, cleaning, purging, organizing. It was this mad rush of 24-7 work to get it ready. We finally got it done. Put it on the market. And now we wait in a perpetual state of waiting. But not just waiting. Waiting while keeping the house clean and show ready 24-7. Oh, and did I mention this is while living life with 3 small children in the house who often seem to have the sole mission to make messes (aka play).  It is definitely an interesting journey.
I have had a wrestling match for months years with God about wanting to move. We are giving it a shot. However, I am working on having peace about following God's will no matter the way it turns out. Being at peace with putting the house up and the fact it could just never sell is hard. I pray daily for God to give me this peace. To be content in the waiting on his will and timing. To enjoy life in the waiting.
Of course if you want to pray we can sell quickly for the price we need, I would be more than happy with that too! ;)