grieving with hope

I stood at the stove when I heard her soft voice behind me, “Mom, I wrote another poem. Can I read it to you?” she asked with glossy eyes.  She’s been writing poetry, our precious 16 year old, Grant’s little sister, to help her walk this road of suffering.  She writes to Grant, she writes to God, she writes for her eyes only.  And sometimes she’s able to share.

I set down my spoon, walked over to the kitchen island, and nodded, “Of course, I want to hear it very much.” I braced myself and listened intently as she read, tears silently streaming…

Memories: Fear of Fading

Scared, more and more,                                                                                                        Shivering down to my core.                                                                                                              One fear grips me,                                                                                                               Relentless, in won’t let me free.

 The comforting weight of memories,                                                                                                              My heart carries, at all times.                                                                                                     What if they go away?                                                                                                       Constantly coaxing my mind to make them stay.

 Like a full tree in the beginning of fall,                                                                                     The memories driven away with winters call.                                                                                      Can I make them stay,                                                                                                                      If I kneel, ask, and pray?

 I shake as winter comes,                                                                                                            Wind threatening, my full tree hums.                                                                                    Leaves falling one by one,                                                                                                     Memories like leaves, will they fall away until they’re none?

 I lay still,                                                                                                                                         Forcing my memory by sheer will,                                                                                                  As the tree begins to fade,                                                                                                                   I pray some leaves will stay.

 Clinging to the branches, refusing to let go,                                                                            Some to share, some no one will know.                                                                                 Some good and some bad,                                                                                                               And so many funny, that were had.

 What comes next?                                                                                                                       Bright Spring, says the text.                                                                                                           With spring comes new leaves,                                                                                                        It’s the plan God weaves.

 New leaves of green,                                                                                                                      Soft, budding, serene.                                                                                                                      But none like the old,                                                                                                                      For all was changed by winter’s cold.

 The leaves keep growing,                                                                                                              As they must, says the All Knowing.                                                                                                I beg the fall leaves to stay,                                                                                                  Gathering, preserving, not wanting to make way.

Please God keep them alive,                                                                                                    Forever, eternally, help them to survive.                                                                                       I would trade them for nothing,                                                                                                  Not even for spring, and the new leaves it brings.

Oh to be happy.  It seems so elusive these days. I have a joy that breaks thru occasionally.  A joy that is not tied to my circumstances. But I believe there is a difference between joy and happiness.  Joy and sadness, suffering, can co-exist precisely because my joy is found in the Lord, and not my circumstances.  So I can say I am joyful at times, even thru my grief and suffering.

But happiness is a different thing all together.  As an American I have grown up with an “I deserve” mentality and that often creeps into my Christian walk.  I wanted a guarantee that nothing bad would ever happen and that I would always be happy.  But life has failed to grant me that guarantee.  But the guarantee was a figment of my own imagination.  God never made that promise nor guarantee.  Listen to what a renowned, prolific author and special assistant to President Reagan had to say about us as Americans and our striving for happiness.

“Somewhere in the seventies, or the sixties, we started expecting to be happy, and society strained and cracked in the storm.  I think we have lost the old knowledge that happiness is overrated; that, in a way, life is overrated.  We have lost, somehow, a sense of mystery about us, our purpose, our meaning, our role.  Our ancestors believed in two worlds, and understood this to be the solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short one.  We are the first generations of man that actually expected to find happiness here on earth, and our search for it has caused such unhappiness.  The reason: If you do not believe in another, higher world, if you believe only that the flat material world around you is all there is, if you believe that this is your only chance at happiness, if that is what you believe, then you are not disappointed when the world doesn’t give you a good measure of its riches, you are despairing.” Peggy Noonan

God never guaranteed a happy, worry free life for me, without suffering.  God guaranteed never to leave me or forsake me, and he never will; regardless of what it might feel like at times and regardless of my circumstances. He guaranteed to provide a way to Heaven for Grant, for me, and for all who believe.  And He did.  He guaranteed eternal, unending happiness in the next life, not this one.  And despite the fact that I am sad, and suffering, and missing my son with every breath I take, I can find joy in the Lord, because of the  guarantees He did make!

There is a constant dialogue going on in my head, when I am at church these days.  I find myself evaluating everything that is said, sung, read.  The theme at church last week was faithfulness. Oh how that word and the promises behind it, get stuck in my thinking these days.

Great is the faithfulness? Do I still believe that? I used to, do I still? We keep singing, “All I have needed thy hath provided.” Did you? So are you saying, God, I don’t need Grant, here with me on Earth? I guess in the technical sense, I don’t need him.  I can breathe, I can eat, I still wake up in the morning, my heart still beats, I am alive.  So I guess technically it’s a ‘want’ not a ‘need.’  But don’t I need him here with me to feel whole? To feel happy, joyful, alive? Don’t I need Him here as proof of your faithfulness?

Our verse for the day…Psalm 16:5-11

5 The LORD is my chosen portion and my cup; you hold my lot.  6 The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance. 

(The lines of my lot in life have fallen in pleasant places?! My lot in life proves your faithfulness. I can’t see it Lord.)

7 I bless the LORD who gives me counsel; in the night also my heart instructs me.  8 I have set the LORD always before me; because he is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken. 

(Lord, I am shaken…I am shaken, Lord. Where is your faithfulness?)

9 Therefore my heart is glad, and my whole being rejoices; my flesh also dwells secure.

(Lord, my heart is not glad, and I struggle to rejoice with even a part of my being. And security is out the door…I am fearful, Lord. Where is your faithfulness?)

10 For you will not abandon my soul to Sheol, or let your holy one see corruption.  11 You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore. 

(Oh, I see, Lord.  This is where it all makes sense.  Verses 10 & 11 bring understanding! I see it now, the evidence of your faithfulness!)

The lines you have drawn for my lot, extend from Earth to Heaven.  My lot in life, my inheritance, is not an Earthly plot, but rather eternity in paradise.  I would definitely consider that a “pleasant place.”  Lord, I can find gladness and I do rejoice in that knowledge, and yes, I see your faithfulness to me.  You have not abandoned my soul, nor did you abandon Grant’s soul, and we will never see Sheol (a metaphor for Hell). What faithfulness, Lord. That was your doing, not ours. Yes! I can rejoice with ‘my whole being!’ at your faithfulness to our souls. There will be fullness of joy and pleasures forever more, in the next life.  Yes, I see it now God, you are faithful.

I must not look at Scripture or the promises of God, through a temporal lens.  That view will skew God’s word and make His promises ring hollow.  When I look at this verse from God’s perspective, from eternity’s perspective, I do see the Lord’s faithfulness.  I have a beautiful inheritance, the lines have fallen for me in pleasant places, and I can rejoice with my whole being, and continue to grieve with hope!

I have read at least 10 books on grief over these past few months.  I am somewhat of an expert, not on grief, but on what others say about grief.  But I find that each book leaves me with the same questions I started with.  I am gaining a whole bunch of head knowledge on how to live, survive, and make my way through this catastrophic loss. But my broken heart sometimes has trouble letting the knowledge of my head into the crevices, the dark protected places of my broken heart.  There is a disconnect between what I know and believe, and what I feel.

Beth Chapman, who tragically lost her 5 year old daughter, puts it like this. “And then, all of a sudden, I hear this other voice in my head that reminds me over and over again of not what I feel, but what I know. It might on certain days be buried deep down in my heart and have a hard time computing to my brain, but here is what I know and what I choose to believe, over and over again.  I know God loves me and my family.  I know God is sovereign and He knows what is best for us.  I know he has our days numbered and makes no mistakes.  I know that He will bring beauty from ashes.  That is what I cling to in order to make it through another twenty-four hours.”

I am learning, on my grief journey, that I have to choose to believe, daily, moment by moment.  Cling to what I believe as if it’s a life line, because it is; my soul’s life line! I cannot base my beliefs on how I feel in this trial of faith.  I must choose to believe over and over and over.  I am not saying that I no longer believe in a loving, good God.  I do!  But my belief in His loving kindness, goodness and mercy towards me, while not shattered, are challenged daily in this fiery trial.  So everyday, on this battlefield of grief, I must choose again to believe and never give in to the temptation of allowing my feelings to dictate what I believe to be true!

It should be noted, I am not choosing to believe because it is a positive perspective about the future.  I am not holding onto hope out of some innate sense of optimism. I am grabbing hold of the promises of God and refusing to let go because they are an anchor for my soul, keeping it secure.

Hebrew 6:18-19 “…to take hold of the hope set before us…We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure…”

So, I choose to believe today, and I will take hold of God’s promises again tomorrow, regardless of how I feel. Its the only thing that makes it possible for me to grieve with hope…

5 months; seems like yesterday, seems like forever…

Dichotomy. Webster’s definition: a division or contrast between two things that are opposed or entirely different. I know what dichotomy means. I can even use it in a sentence.  But I did not know I could live it.  Until Grant died, I wasn’t aware that a soul could feel two things simultaneously that were diametrically opposed; soul crushing pain with exuberant hope, struggling to trust with absolute certainty, heart breaking dread with sweet anticipation, profound sadness with utter joy.

I found myself in another situation where there were competing emotions in my soul this week. Jordan, one of Grant’s life long friends, was married.  I lived with dichotomy in my heart and soul all week. As I helped with wedding preparations, exuberant happiness lived next door to sad reality in my heart.  So happy for Jordan and Paige; profoundly sad that will never be Grant.

Jordan paid honor to Grant, at his wedding, and it meant more to our family than we will ever be able to communicate to them.  Grant was supposed to be in Jordan and Paige’s wedding.  Of course, he couldn’t be.  But his name was still in their Wedding Program (with an asterick next to it) in Jordan’s line up of Groomsmen.  You see, rather than replace Grant’s spot, Jordan chose to leave that spot empty and explained why on the back of their wedding program.  What follows is what Jordan wrote for all of the guests to read…

I knew Grant my entire life. We grew up jumping on the trampoline, playing in the pool, eating popsicles, going to school, and playing music together.  Nearly every fond memory that I have from my childhood involves Grant in some way.  From the time that I threw a brick in the air and it landed on Grant’s head to the time that we started a band, we were always as close as brothers and knew that we would be involved in each other’s weddings.  Grant was the type of friend that you could bond with without ever saying more than a half dozen words, a characteristic that I valued and shared with him.  He was the type of friend that the Bible says sticks closer than a brother, and I can’t ever remember him saying an unkind word about anyone.  He possessed the rare combination of confidence and humility that influenced everyone around him, without being the center of attention. He was a light that shone quiet but bright, steady, and consistently.

Tragically, Grant was involved in a fatal motorcycle accident on the day that Paige and I were engaged.  Although we were unaware until the next day when Grant passed away.  We missed him at our engagement party and did not know why he wasn’t there.  He was missed that night, and every night since then.  Grant would have been one of my groomsmen were he still with us, but in the sovereign plan of God that was not to be.  He has moved on to be with Jesus now, and Paige and I have faith that we will celebrate with him at a different marriage banquet in heaven.  Only that one will be much grander, sweeter, and fulfilling as the body of Christ is united together with Jesus Christ.  It didn’t feel right to replace Grant in my wedding party, so I will have 6 groomsmen to Paige’s 7 bridesmaids, as a way of honoring Grant’s honorable life and death.  

Dichotomy, competing emotions side by side; deep gratefulness, unspeakable anguish, celebrating and suffering…

Seven years ago, when blogs were just starting to consume the internet, I jumped on the blog band wagon and started my own blog.  It was called “Because He is Worthy” and it was my musings with the Lord in my daily life as a wife and homeschooling mother of 4. As situations would arise in normal life (the old normal) I would write out how Biblical truths were applicable to the individual circumstances I found myself in.  It was a journal of sorts, a lot like this blog, as I walked this life with God and tried to apply His truth to every aspect of my life.

Well, I was rereading it the other day.  It is such a strange thing to look back on some of the “struggles” I was having then.  Oh, what I wouldn’t give to go back!  But when I came to the entry below, it was paralyzing. My breath caught in my throat as I read the words I had penned 7 years ago. It was as if I had stepped into a time machine and the old Alisa was reminding this new, different Alisa, what we both believe. An unspoken question hung in the air, “You believed it then, do you believe it now?”

The post from 7 years ago follows below.  And the person I was referring to, was Grant…

I was struggling recently with fear, worry, and dread.  Our eighteen year old was invited to go to a movie opening with some friends.  The movie didn’t start until midnight, which meant he would be driving home just as the bars would be closing.  I found myself lying in bed that night consumed with fear for his safety.  Statistically, it is the deadliest time on the road.  Sleep was escaping me.  Worry is not normally an area of struggle for me so I was somewhat perplexed.  I decided to get up and meditate on scripture and let it penetrate my heart and bring me comfort and peace while at the same time reveal to me the reason for my worry.

So where was Biblical truth not functioning for me on a heart level?  I was struggling with anxiousness, worry, and fear.  Where was my focus?  Where should it be?  

In this situation I was not trusting God’s goodness towards my son and me.  I wanted control over the situation and a guarantee of my desired outcome.  I was craving supreme authority over my life and the life of my son.  I was struggling to relinquish my desired will for God’s unknown will.

 But my life is not my own and neither does the life of my son belong to me.  We were bought with a price and our lives are now God’s!  He has supreme authority, not me!  I can trust He knows what is best, I can trust His love for me, and I can have confidence God has my best interest at heart.

As I applied gospel truth to my situation I was aware that I do not always trust God’s goodness; rather I sometimes look to circumstance to determine his goodness.  If things go my way, God is good.  But what if there were tragedy?  Would I still believe God is good?  Not if I were looking to the circumstance as my determining factor.

So where should I look when worry and fear strike?  I need to look to God and his promises.  He is my refuge and strength in times of need [Psalm 46:1].  He will never give me more than I can handle [1 Corinthians 10:13] and his grace will be sufficient for every situation he allows [2 Corinthians 12:9].  There is nothing that will ever happen to me in this life, good or bad, that will ever compare to the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus [Philippians 3:8] and being with him for all eternity.

There it is. The old me standing firmly on the truths of that blog post, some 7 years ago.  Finding comfort in heart, soul, and mind because of those promises of God I looked to, on a night my son came home safely and normal life continued on.  Fast forward 7 years. The very thing that kept me awake has now come true. I am living the nightmare that robbed me of sleep that night, 7 years ago.

So, do I still believe all of that?  Can I stand here today and say to the Alisa of the past, I still believe? Yes, a resounding, yes! Those promises, that truth, I believed then, and I still believe today in the midst of the dreaded nightmare.  And while they don’t take away the pain or the sadness they do give me hope.  It’s because of those promises and truths, I can grieve today with hope…

Yesterday I wrote about Horatio Spafford, and his unshakable faith in God, despite catastrophic circumstances in his life. (you can read that here)  Anna, was Horatio’s wife. I would be remiss, not to include Anna’s testimony, her own walk of grief and faith. She too, along with her husband, lost all 5 of her children. Her 4 daughters drowned, while voyaging to Europe, from America, when the ship they were all on sunk. She watched her daughters drown, disappear into the black sea, after she lost the grip of one daughter’s little hand, and another daughter she watched slip beneath the icy surface of the water, when she could no longer hold onto her mother’s skirt. Her other 2 daughters were trapped below deck when the ship sunk. The scene was horrific.  And all of that only a short time after losing her precious 4 year old son to Scarlett Fever and watching the Chicago fire destroy their Earthly fortune.

After Anna was rescued, witnesses remembered her saying, “God gave me four daughters and a son. Now they have been taken from me. Someday I will understand why.” Anna was utterly devastated. In fact, many of the survivors watched Anna closely, fearing she may try to take her own life, the grief being just too much to bear.  But her faith was strong, unshakable, like her husband’s.  Despite her grief and despair, Anna was heard saying on more than one occasion, “It’s easy to be grateful and good when you have so much, but take care that you are not a fair-weather friend to God.” Oh, the faith of Anna.  How I long to have the faith of Anna and Horatio, two that have traveled this road of grief ahead of me.

They went on to have 3 more children; two daughters and another son.  At four years of age, their second son also died.  After the loss of their second son, the Spafford’s decided to leave their home in America and settle in Jerusalem. In September of 1881 the Spafford’s and a few of their friends left America for Israel where they served the needy, helped the poor, took in homeless children, and cared for the sick for the rest of their lives. Their reason for doing this after everything they had lost?! Their only cause and purpose for going to and living in Israel was to show those living about them the love of Jesus. These two, that had lost so much, lived out their lives showing others the love of Christ! Oh, how I long to have the faith of Anna and Horatio.

Bertha, one of the Spafford’s two surviving daughters wrote this about her parents.  “In Chicago, Father and Mother searched their lives for explanation. Until now, it had flowed gently as a river.  Spiritual peace and worldly security had sustained their early years, their family life and their home.  But now, all around them people were asking the unvoiced question; ‘What guilt had brought this sweeping tragedy to Anna and Hoaratio Spafford?’ But Father never lost faith and was convinced that God was kind and that he would see his children again in Heaven. This thought calmed his heart, but it was to bring Father into open conflict with what was then the Christian world. But this did not cause any wavering.  His faith was assured. To Father, this was a passing through the “valley of the shadow of death,” but his faith came through triumphant and strong. And it was that faith that enabled him to write his hymn, on the high seas, near the place where his children had perished.”

Their lives exemplified a trust in God that defied their circumstances.  Oh, how I long to have the faith of Horatio and Anna Spafford.  Though long gone, they are showing me how to grieve with hope…

“It Is Well With My Soul” has always been when of my all time favorite songs.  Not because the music is so great, even though I think it is.  Or because it has a catchy tune or deep meaning, although I think it does, as well.  It’s my favorite because of the back story to this song. It’s the story behind the Hymn that truly makes it, almost unbelievable.  Knowing what took place right before this song was written, profoundly builds my faith.  I think of its author, Horatio Spafford, and his unshakable faith, often these days. I want a faith like his!  So what is the back story to this world renowned Hymn?

Horatio Spafford (1828-1888) was a wealthy Chicago lawyer with a thriving legal practice, a beautiful home, a wife, four daughters and a son. He was also a devout Christian and faithful student of the Scriptures. At the very height of his financial and professional success, Horatio and his wife Anna suffered the tragic loss of their young son. Shortly thereafter on October 8, 1871, the Great Chicago Fire destroyed almost every real estate investment that Horatio had, wiping out his fortune.

Shortly after the Chicago fire, Horatio scheduled a boat trip to Europe in order to give his wife and daughters a much needed vacation and time to recover from the tragic loss of their son and brother. At the last minute, Horatio decided to send his wife and daughters ahead of him while he remained in Chicago to take care of some unexpected business. Several days later he received notice that his family’s ship had encountered a collision. All four of his daughters had drowned; only his wife had survived.

With a heavy heart, heavier than I can even fathom!, Horatio boarded a boat that would take him to his grieving Anna in England. It was on this trip that he penned the now famous Hymn “It Is Well With My Soul.”  In fact he started it while looking out over the ocean at the very spot the ship went down, that claimed the lives of his four precious daughters!

Oh the faith of a man that could write these words, after losing all 5 of his children, and almost all of his earthly fortune.  Now that you have the back story, read and be blessed! Oh how I long for the faith of Horatio Spafford.

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

(refrain)

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.
(refrain)

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!
(refrain)

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

The world may have robbed Horatio Spafford of his most treasured earthly gifts.  He suffered catastrophic loss, unimaginable to most of us.  And yet, even in all of that, he knew, and he proclaimed for the entire world to hear, it was well with his soul. Because of Christ, he was ok where it mattered most.  With heart so broken, and missing Grant so much it’s hard to sometimes breathe, I will sing with Horatio, as we did at Grant’s memorial, “It is well with my soul.”

Tomorrow, we look at the faith of Anna, Horatio’s wife…it is literally one of the greatest evidences I have ever seen of God’s sustaining comfort and grace.

Running errands again.  We tend to do them together these days.  I suppose it’s easier to fake it in public when you’ve got back up, someone playing the role with you.  Someone else who knows the drill.

As we conversed, we were trying to decide if I was ready to go see Grant’s old apartment in LA.  His room mate still lives there and I am going to be near there this week.   I have a desire to go there, remember him there and all of the wonderful memories those old walls hold for us. But is it too soon? That’s what we were trying to figure out.

Grant loved that place and loved his life there.  A cute 2 bedroom apartment on a tree lined street in West Hollywood.  5 minutes from Rodeo Drive, 5 minutes from Hollywood, 10 minutes from Santa Monica, 15 minutes from downtown.  Within walking distance to famous restaurants, and the Beverly Hills Mall.  An architect on his way up, with a vision to use recycled material to make better housing for the poor in other countries. A cute little car, his Harley, and looking for a woman to share his life with. It seemed as if his life was just beginning, all of his hard work finally paying off. He was so happy!

As we reflected on his life there and debated whether or not I was ready to see the apartment again, I started crying and said, “I don’t know if I can…just don’t think I’m ready…it’s too soon.  I may never be able to go back there.”

But Glenn had a completely different reaction, “Really?” he asked, “I think I want to go back and remember.  When I think of Grant at that apartment and the life he had in LA, I think of him happy.  He was happier there than I had ever seen him!”

“But that’s only because we can’t see him in Heaven,”  I responded without any hesitation.  And then it hit me, as those words floated through the air and found their landing in my heart and soul. Grant was happy in that little apartment.  And according to worldly standards he was on his way up, had all a guy could want, and probably coveted by many. But as happy as he was, his happiness there pales in comparison to how happy he is now!

I still haven’t decided whether or not I am ready to visit his old earthly home yet.  But this I do know.  When I do eventually go back I will recall with profound fondness how happy he was in that place and remember our fun times there. Such wonderful memories.  But I will dwell more on how happy he is now in his new home, and look forward to all of the fun times we have yet to share!  I will thank Christ, that because of Heaven, and because of His sacrifice, I get to spend more time with Grant, than I will ever spend without him.  And as I walk through his old bedroom and sit on the back patio, and look up into the skyline, Grant would want me to remember most, the truth from this Psalm.

Psalm 84:10 Better is one day in your courts, than a thousand elsewhere