grieving with hope

Fear. It’s something that I am tempted with since Grant’s death. In the quiet of the night, my mind is sometimes filled with things that could happen to my loved ones as they move through their days. In the dark, as I lay there, I remember the vow I made to Grant, at his memorial service. I promised him that in time, I wouldn’t live in constant fear of the next devastating, life changing, phone call. And I am trying. I am trying to live with a sense of trust in God and peace under any circumstance.

I know fear keeps a life small. It drowns out the music, and causes joy to retreat into the dark where it can’t be seen or felt. But there have been other phone calls in my life. I am no stranger to them. “I am afraid tests show, that you are losing them,” said the somber voice on the other end of the line. Our twins, once safely tucked away in my womb, now leaving my body before we could hold them, see them.

Peacefully sitting at the kitchen table working on the grocery list, and a moment later, life forever changed,  “Come quickly, there isn’t much time.” Losing my mother, swiftly, prematurely, unexpectedly, when my babe was only 2 months old. The horror.

“It’s a brain tumor,” reported the stranger’s  voice. “If you want to see your father while he’s alive, you need to come now.” And three weeks later, after watching him drift away, lose all thought, lose all memory, lose all function, my father was gone. So much loss…

So I am not fooled. I am very well aware that there may be another phone call predestined for me. I don’t necessarily believe that I have had my share of heartache, trouble, or trials. I am acutely aware that I could lose another child, or my husband, or a grand child someday. There are unspeakable tragedies all around me, daily, and there could be another phone call. Such is the frailty of our bodies. The fear can be suffocating, terrorizing.  I seek the remedy and realize I have it.  The remedy is trust! Trust is everything, it is the cure.  But not trust that nothing bad will ever happen again.  Scripture is clear that this life is full of hardships, trial, and pain.  But I can trust God with the eternal, where it really counts, where it really matters.

God never promises a carefree, trouble free, happy life. That’s the American dream, or lie, rather.  The Western civilization I grew up in, created an entitlement mentality.  It’s the first culture in History, that is surprised by grief, sorrow, tragedy.  It used to be the norm, and still is in most parts of the world today. But the happy, care free, trial free life that America has convinced us that we all deserve, is not a promise from the Lord most high. Again, an honest look at Scripture promises just the opposite. We live in a sin ridden world, and there is unspeakable hardship everywhere. So how do I trust that God will protect me, and my loved ones, from more unbearable pain. I can’t. I don’t.

But that’s because, that’s not what I am supposed to trust Him with! How can I trust Him to deliver on promises He never made? I can’t. He never promised me a fairytale life, free from heartache and despair. But He has promised to never leave me nor forsake me as I walk thru the pain, I can trust him for that! He has promised that all things (even future soul crushing pain) will work together for good, I can trust Him for that! He promises to give me a peace thru this trial, that transcends understanding. I can trust Him for that! I can trust that He loves me, and loves Grant more than I do, even when evidence tries to scream the opposite. I can trust Him with that! He promises, that because Grant died in Christ, I will see him again and we will never again be separated, I can trust God with that! I can trust in the good news of Jesus.  I can trust in God’s saving work, even in this moment.  I can trust, that if disaster strikes again, He will carry me, as He does now, and bring me safely home to my eternal Heavenly home.

Trust is like a bridge that will take me from yesterday to tomorrow. And because I trust God, for the things He did promise, I can go from the known to the unknown, knowing the bridge will bear my weight. Regardless of what my future here holds for me, I can trust God, because I know what my eternal future holds for me.

This life is a blink, a fleeting breath.  And yes, there will be pain and sadness here, sometimes more than seems possible to bear.  But the life to come, the life we have with Christ for eternity, is endless joy.  No more sorrow, no more pain.  That is something I can trust, and that will never change! There will never be a devastating phone call telling me that the gates of Heaven have been closed, or the streets of the Celestial City are full. No, I will not live in fear. And I will not declare you untrustworthy, Lord, because you didn’t make good on promises you never made!

“Did you have fun, Mom?” Our 16 year old asked, after a visit with family friends. I immediately responded, “Fun? No, not fun….don’t think I would describe it as fun.”

But as I laid in bed that night and thought back on the evening, I really had had some fun.  I laughed, we talked about pleasant things happening in other’s lives, I smiled as we talked about memories of Grant.  So I did have ‘fun’.

But I missed it. I didn’t recognize it. I think that is because, I live life now with a profound sadness, a heavy weight that presses down. It never leaves. I am weary from the work that it takes to keep on breathing.  So, I did have fun, but it was commingled with soul crushing sadness, they exist side by side now, occupying the same space.

Will I learn to live with this weight?  Will it become second nature? Will it be my default, constantly causing me to fight for joy, trying to recognize joy when it comes? Or does the weight decrease over time? Will joy become my default again someday, where sadness rears its ugly head only occasionally? I have no way of knowing. I cannot answer these questions today.

But this I do know today. God will never leave me nor forsake me as I walk through this. He will give me a peace that transcends my limited understanding, and He will comfort me, sustain me, strengthen me, and preserve my faith moment by moment, until that day when joy reigns alone and forevermore. I choose to trust Him, today, even though I do not know the answers to the questions above. A day is coming when the weight of this world will be lifted forever and replaced with the weight of His eternal glory. I believe that, because I trust God! And it gives this grieving heart hope…

Time. It’s taken on new meaning. Fresh meaning. I am more aware of it than ever before.

It’s so hard to put into words, something you’ve never experienced before. It’s bizarre living with the knowledge of Grant’s passing and missing him in a way that’s unlike I have ever missed anyone or anything before. I have experienced the temporary missing. But this existence, this life, is all I know, and for the rest of it, I will be separated from Grant.  I have no hope of seeing him again, in this life, and everyday I am reminded of something that I will miss out on with my son.

 This makes time a strange thing. On the one hand, I want God to hasten the day I will see Grant again. Speed up time, make it pass quickly. But the opposite is just as true. I want time to slow down.  Each tick of the clock moves me further away from the last time I saw Grant, held Grant, talked with Grant. So in that vein I want time to stand still. Time, every day moves me one step closer to reunion, but that same day moves me one step further from togetherness here.  Oh God, how do you hasten the day and make time stand still simultaneously?

Time. Now more precious, and I cherish it it new ways. I am not given an unlimited amount of it. Death is a sober reminder of that. Rather than let death and sorrow rob me, of the life I have left, I need to make it my constant reminder that time is limited. People always talk about this, but death makes it real…fresh. So death, reminds me to cherish every smile, giggle, and laugh. It makes every hug and “I love you” just a little bit warmer. It makes seemingly small conversations, meaningful. It reminds me that there are no small moments. Life is built with thousands of mundane ordinary moments stacked on top of one another. So I need to relish those everyday moments in time.

Time. Now more significant. I am more aware of it than ever before. Each of us is given a certain amount of time…in each day, in each life. Only The Lord knows how much time we have left. What do I want to do with the time I have been given? What matters most, what truly counts, what will last after my time is up? What will stand the test of time? 2 or 3 generations after we are gone, most of us will be forgotten forever. Only the things that have eternal value, last the test of time.

Time. I want to live today like I’m dying…because I am, we all are. Time. Alisa, live like there’s no tomorrow…because there might not be. Time. I want to live a life that counts.

This song, by Mercy Me, has been such a means of grace and comfort to me, that I just had to share it.  I have lost count of how many times I have listened to it, crying and praying.  If you are hurting, if you have lost someone you love, take 4 minutes and listen to this song crying and praying your way through it, with me. Let it sing truth to your weary heart, soothe your soul, and give you hope.

Cleaning the bathroom, I find his razor and plummet downward into darkness. Moments later I recall the first time he shaved and a smile breaks into the darkness and brings with it a ray of light. My spirit lifts.

A few minutes later, I catch a view of his empty car sitting out front, and once again I spiral downward, and my cheeks are flooded with tears. Then I have a thought of Heaven, think of him there, waiting for us, worshipping his Savior and I can breathe again.

Making next week’s menu I find myself thinking about all of his favorite foods, and weep over recipe cards. However, joy breaks thru minutes later as I recall the thousands of meals I got to make for him and how much he loved his mom’s cooking. And now he has tasted the Lord’s supper, he has dined with the King. A moment of peace, comfort, joy.

And so my days go.  It is literally like riding an emotional roller coaster. Within minutes I find myself at opposite ends of the emotional and faith scales. The chain of memory can come from almost anything and quickly winds its way to my broken heart. Up and full of hope one minute only to plummet into darkness and despair moments later. And then up and down again, and again, and again.

But it won’t always be like this. I know that. God promises and I believe him. Even if it is this way until I stand at the gates of Heaven, there will be a day when my Lord wipes away every tear, comforts every sorrow, and gives me perfect peace and joy for eternity. Sustain me Jesus until that day. And help me to live this day, in light of that day.

I hate going out in public these days. Even just getting in the car to start the errand process, can bring on heaviness, profound sadness. There’s literally a physical reaction and it feels as if someone is standing on my chest, I feel hot, and panicky feelings set in. And then the tears. That seemingly non-ending flow of tears as I move around town.

I was praying the other day while out running errands…more like bawling out loud and talking to God…but that’s what prayer looks like right now for me. I was lamenting to God how much I hated this.  This moving on with life. I hate it! I resent it! I don’t want to move on. When I am doing something that resembles “moving on” it feels disloyal. It feels wrong, it feels like a lie. I am existing on the top layer, pretending everything’s OK, looking normal to those I come in contact with.

But what I realized in that moment, as I cried out to God between Walmart and the bank, moving on doesn’t mean moving away. Because I go to the cleaners, doesn’t mean everything’s ok now. Because I make a deposit at the bank, isn’t an indication that Grant means any less to me. Just because I run to the store for milk, does not mean my affections for Grant are less or “I’m getting over it.”

I am not moving on from Grant, as if that were even possible. I am attempting to move on with this life God gave me. I am not moving away from his memory, or what I miss most about him, or moving away from the love and affection I have for Grant. I will never move on from those things, never regardless of what I am doing, or what life looks like now in the day to day.

So tomorrow, when life starts to put her demands on me, pressing me to move forward, I will remind myself, that moving on does not mean, will never mean, moving away.

Earlier this month, as I stood taking in the grandeur of the Colorado Rockies, my mind was flooded with thoughts of our recent loss. Lord, I was supposed to go first, before Grant. I was supposed to show him around, when he got to Heaven. I was supposed to be waiting for him, not the other way around!  He was supposed to have to learn to live without me, without his father, to “carry on” as they say…not vice-versa.

It made me think of this little mantra that I have said to my kiddos for years, whenever I  would leave the house without them. They have probably heard it hundreds of times. As I readied myself to go somewhere without them, I would say while making the rounds with good bye kisses, “God willing, I will be home in an hour…if He’s not willing, see you on the other side suckers!”  Giggling, I would walk out the door as all eyes rolled, heads shook, and lips pursed in that  “oh brother, mother” half smile.

As I stood there in the Rockies, with all of these things swirling around in my head, it was almost as if Grant broke into my thoughts. I could almost hear him say it.  I could even picture his funny triumphant smile, and a victory glint in his eye, as he said, “Who’s the sucker now, mom?!” It made me roll my eyes and shake my head. It made me laugh.

Lord, thank you for the countless times Grant made me laugh. Even now, the thought of him, always ready with his one liners, makes me laugh. “I am the sucker, son…and it made me laugh today. I love you, Grant. More than words can express.”  Lord, thank you for the laughs here…and the laughs to come everlasting. Grant’s best one liners are yet to come and I cannot wait! The thought of it gives me a smile today and makes me giggle.

Sometimes I feel like I am getting worse, not better. It’s scary. Today I am a little more sad, and a little more angry with God. I find myself questioning him again and at times and some days it seems impossible to trust him. There are days life seems pointless, as does prayer. Is this a normal part of the grieving process? Or am I going down a road of no return? How will I know? God help me…sustain my faith. I am undone, wrung out, nothing left. I just want to hate you…the anger is somehow more vindicating than the blind trust. My flesh tells me I have a right to be angry. Yet, my spirit urges me to be humble in the face of God and not try to understand the Creator of the Universe; its a futile attempt. The spirit urges me to go to the word and meditate on the things of God that are revealed. Getting stuck in questions that cannot be answered, only increase despair, anger, and a lack of trust. I must go to the Word, and not rely on my own understanding of things!

The word I went to today…Isaiah 40:28-31 Do you not know?  Have you not heard?  The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.  He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom.  He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.  Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint

I have read this many times. But this time, there was something different about it. As I read it again and again I was beginning to make a connection. In the moments I am having a pity party, and refusing to find any reason to love God, I am so incredibly tired, despondent, despairing.  I am physically weak…I can feel it. In the moments I refuse to trust God, I become angry at Him, and I am weary. The anger creates a weariness to the very inside of me. In the moments I put my hope in anything other than The Lord, I have no strength. Even the smallest task seems impossible, much less having enough strength for an entire day, or the strength to look to God’s word, or strength to fight for joy, belief, and trust!  It is becoming so obvious to me as I walk thru this. This thing we call grief. When I am angry at God, accusing, blaming, questioning his goodness, I get completely overwhelmed and feel like I cannot go on. I despair, and there is literally a weariness to the bone.

However, when I am in a place of choosing to trust god, regardless of this tragedy and how I feel, I have hope and strength for the day. When I choose to trust God, and accept that I will never fathom His understanding, I find moments of joy in my day and have the energy I need to complete the day’s tasks. When I put my hope in the Creator of the ends of the Earth, and meditate on His worthiness because of who He is and what He has done for me in Christ, I am able to resist despair, and it gives me fresh hope for this suffering. As I fix my gaze on God, the cross, the Heavenly home He has prepared for me, for Grant, and all who believe, I am able to sense God’s nearness, feel His comfort, and have peace of soul and mind.

Do you not know, Alisa? Have you not heard? Look back, recall, and you will see that this is true. Look to the lives of other believers that have walked this road before you and see God’s faithfulness. Look to God’s word, put your hope in Him. He will renew your strength, you will run and not grow weary, you will walk and not be faint. Alisa, fix your gaze on God and stand in the shadow of the cross. It is there you will find hope.

Father’s Day, another first. Another day that reminded us of what was, and will never be again. 3 to honor their father instead of 4. Living around the gap, the new normal. There was no phone call from LA. No card with a California postmark. The first to call him daddy, now gone. They had moved into the friend category, man to man, which just enhanced their father-son relationship. My husband lost a son, a friend, a treasured companion. How can I possibly bring comfort to this weary, heart broken man on a day that reminds him that his role as a father has been robbed, forever changed? How can I console a man who is bone weary, fighting for joy, struggling to trust, on a day that will now always be a painful reminder of what was taken? Sleepless nights, teary commutes, now markers of his days, and now this day, making his loss so acute I can see the pain on his face, in his eyes. Lord, how do I bring comfort?

Pray. I can pray for him, with him, pray.

Touch. I can hold him, stroke him, lay in his arms and weep with him. Touch.

Recall. The stories, the beautiful stories and memories. (Will there be a day when we can recall them without pain? I don’t know.) But I can listen today, even with the pain.  And we can smile, and we can laugh through tear stained faces. Recall.

Listen. I can listen without trying to answer, without trying to fix it. The only fix for this is Heaven. There will never be a satisfactory answer.  So I just, listen.

Anticipate. Remember together that there is no earthly pain that Heaven doesn’t fix, look forward to that day with him. Anticipate.

Words cannot express the depth of my love for the father of my children, but this I know.  Apart from Heaven, there is nowhere I would rather be than in the crook of his loving arms.  So this “first” of many firsts, this Father’s Day, with now 3 instead of 4, I lay in his arms, our breaking hearts beat as one, our tears falling in unison.

It’s a weird thing these days when people ask me, “How are you?” I never know quite how to answer.

This day, 2 months ago, would have seemed crushing, unbearable. But from this vantage point, it’s a bearable day. It’s a better day than 1 month ago. It also depends on the moment they ask. I am not yet at a place where I have good days and bad days. The hard moments and the easy moments don’t usually last for an entire day. Rather, they usually vacillate back and forth all day long, taking turns.

And when I am asked that question I naturally jump to how I am feeling. After all, isn’t that what people are really asking? But feelings change..they go up and down and rattle me to and fro, and often times are not even based on truth. So I am hesitant to base my answer on feelings alone.

What I really want to say is this.  I never knew a heart could hurt so deeply, but I still believe! I’ve never known such depths of despair, but I still believe! At times, it’s hard to ‘feel’ God’s love in this, but I still believe! Regardless of how I feel at any given moment, independent from this circumstance, despite this soul crushing situation, I still believe!

John 20:29 Then Jesus told him, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

Alisa, how are you today?  “I am profoundly sad, but I am fighting for joy, moment by moment…and I still believe!”