The Altar of Bereavement

A thin veil hangs between Earth and Glory, where Everleigh now resides, and we as humans just don't know what to do in that space. The church sanctuary is just that--a solemn, safe place for mourners to gush and share in a way people can only do when heaven is that palpable. So we weep and ask questions, hug one another, beg God for His comfort and promise to hold our babies longer, love them better. It's holy ground, where families long separated sit side by side, forgiveness in their embraces, tear-filled eyes smiling understanding. Somewhere in the deep chasm of loss, love and healing emanate potential light. Eulogies are given and behind words of anguish and anger, is a thread of hope that somehow there's a reason for the seeming insanity of baby death. 

Rick (Grandpa) reads Everleigh's favourite bedtime story, as he would each night, but this time to us, the assembly of fellow grievers. As he turns each page and asks, "Is that my panda?" sobs fill his voice and he gazes at the tiny casket and closes with, "Goodnight, Monkey."  Karen (Grandma) eloquently and honestly lists the ways this small person has transposed her from a private person to one who is open and enraptured with life as she views it through the eyes of a near-toddler. No one doubts the unconditional love for this little being. Heather, her young mother, is calm and lovely and speaks with a desire for all of us to know her daughter more. She holds the hand of Everleigh's daddy, Andrew, as he cries into the microphone how he loved his girl. His mom and sisters encircle each other and express their hearts too in a cascade of sadness and tenderness for their lost baby. So much pain, adoration and hope, all mingling at the altar of bereavement. 

Then, love-brimming, sorrow-filled pallbearers lift the wee box that holds only the pretty shell of little Everleigh, knowing her soul is long gone, healed and free. Still, as they walk, the aching human heart can barely grasp that truth. Jesus Loves Me plays while the procession carries her out of that Holy Place. But the song is really for us, because we're left behind and so very much need to feel that, in the middle of all of this, Jesus loves us, that His plan still proceeds and that this terrible thing isn't unseen by Him. We need to know He hears the cry of His people and rushes to comfort. We need to feel His Spirit after we've left the Holy Place and we're floundering for answers and are tormented by heartache. We need to move on and choose joy when it seems right to remain broken--for her. 

The days will march on and my loved ones who held that giggling bundle with each rising and setting sun will clasp emptiness for awhile. It will take their breath away at times. Grief hurts. But Jesus was not unacquainted with sorrow and He will tangibly offer solace if we enter the Holy Place that becomes portable as we whisper-cry His name. And, one day, just as that precious baby girl sees Him face to face, we will too. Then we will know and understand what we couldn't possibly have comprehended in this earthly life. But for now, when sweeping answers won't suffice, it will only be the experience of real heart-mending Love that will be desperately sought. Love for Everleigh embodied every word and every song in the sanctuary. It was present because of the Love that was given at this very time of year. That Love now holds us close in our deepest mourning and helps us to enfold each other to restore joy once again.

all of us wearing purple clothing or tiny purple bows in honour and memory of Everleigh

balloons and beautiful large photos filled the sanctuary

Day Twenty: Jesus Take The Wheel!

"Just leave it in God's hands." I hated that phrase...and it was used a lot as I grew up in the church. What exactly does that look like anyway? I didn't get it. I knew about prayer, I prayed, but sometimes the Christian-ese just didn't suffice. Something sounding a little like Carrie Underwoods's Jesus Take the Wheel echoes in my mind. 

So what taught me to stop worrying and to trust God with my concerns? Reading Scripture. Memorizing Scripture. Hearing Scripture by great pastors, teachers, women's group leaders, video studies, etc. The Holy Spirit makes the Word of God alive to us and in us. The truth of it sinks down into our souls when we know it. The Bible is sharper than any two-edged sword and it's that word that assures us the Lord has our lives in His hands. There is nothing to fear or be anxious for when we know we can pray with the stories, poetry, prophesies, teachings and letters of Scripture to remind us we're not alone. God's got our backs and our present and our eternity are safe with Him. I'm certainly not a perfect example of peace and rest during difficult times, but in the depths of my soul I get it now. There is really no sense in fretting when I humbly tell the Lord that I can't do this thing on my own and I'm trusting Him to be in control. His way is the best way and somewhere in that tunnel is a Light that will get me exactly where I need to go in this life--He's got the wheel.

"Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God." (Philippians 4:6)

"But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name, He will teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all the things I said to you. (John 14:26)

"For the Word of God is living and powerful and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the division of soul and spirit, and of joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart. (Hebrews 4:12)

 Thanksgiving weekend

Day Nineteen: Praying Kids

Her beaded hair braids click, click, click as she wiggles and tosses around in her little white toddler bed. I tuck the blankets up under her chin and cocoon her all the way down her tiny figure. Maybe that will hold her for a minute. Wishful thinking. I tell her its time to pray and she folds her hands, and with legs bursting from the chrysalis she begins in that raspy voice, "Dear Jesus, please help Mommy to feel better (That's me). Please help Emily to get her pyjamas on. Please help Oliver to play with the ball. Please help Mommy to buy soap. (That's Valerie.) God bless Daddy and Meghan and me and..." (lists a few more people) After a pause, I say, Amen, and she echoes that. She doesn't need to open her eyes because they've already been darting all over the room. I'm smiling because I'm walking down that lane of memories where four other little voices piped out darling, innocent chats with God. She's sliding her pyjamas up her leg to scratch an itch and babbling a story about the day. I'm silently praying she'll take this practice of prayer and make it her own one day.

Indoctrination? Oh, yeah! Why? Because when you believe with all your heart that Jesus is God's Son and that He died and was resurrected and lives today, you want to pass that hope onto your children. When He's held you through trials and spoken to you in your confusion to lead you in a way you couldn't see, you don't want those kids to miss out. When you know their futures will hold fabulous moments and painful challenges, you desire nothing less than the God of their universe be close to them and that they trust in Him. They will each stand at a crossroads one day and decide whether or not this communion with the Almighty did any good. I know for a fact they will say, yes. Praying kids become praying adults, and that's my great expectation.

Dancing and Leaping in the Cemetery

It all began innocently enough. My mom asked us to meet her for lunch but first, she needed to tidy up my grandparents' grave site and water the flowers hanging there. Since the cemetery is such a beautiful location, we decided to picnic in the lovely grassy area nearby. Oliver and Emily helped water the flowers and didn't mind dripping a little on themselves as it was a scorcher of a day. Of course, our conversation held memories of my precious Mama and Grampie--memories that brought happiness, in spite of the missing. However, we found more joy than we expected as we chatted in the heat that day.

Oliver had noticed that someone had set up a sprinkler over their family grave stones and we thought that was clever since we'd just traveled with jugs of water from the tap several sites away. He and Emily were sweating from running with the dog and he asked if they could dip their toes in it. No one was around to ask and we figured there was no disrespect in a little cooling off. "Just don't step on the graves themselves--please walk around them," I warned. 

Mom and I were deep in conversation, when we suddenly began to hear squeals of delight and turned toward the sight of Oliver leaping through the sprinkler in his bathing suit! For a moment I wondered how on earth he'd even brought it, but remembered we had the suit in the truck from an earlier swimming visit at a friend's the day before. Somehow, in a minute or two, he'd gotten changed and plunged into that oscillating water! We laughed so hard at that boy! Thankfully, he danced and leaped through the sites and not on them. Bravely, Emily finally joined him and then, my mom :) 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Getting back into that truck dripping cool water instead of sticky sweat meant I drove the half an hour home with happy children. I took photos because my camera is usually with me and I remember things best visually. And this? I needed to lock this one tight in my heart's file of joyful moments. It was a reminder that although there may be sadness in the cemetery for a time, a believer truly finds their hope in the fact that their loved ones are with Jesus and will be met again one day. And for that? Fountains of glee spilling all over those grave stones--especially the one marked: "We are not here, we are with our Saviour." 

Remembering Linda

The sky was cerulean and a light breeze blew through our hair as we stood huddled under the towering oak by Linda's grave. The pastor spoke words of hope and encouraged us to lean into God and each other in the coming days. I glanced around at hands held and bodies close and knew that his exhortation would be an easy continuation for us. Pastor Paul held his Bible open, the source of wisdom for each one of us in attendance, including my dear sister-in-law. He breathed Psalm 46 like it was life--and it was. I lifted my eyes to the playground just beyond the fence where we were posed. It was so still and quiet. The only sound was birdsong, the gentle swishing of leaves above and the occasional sniffle of thankful but grieving family members. The playground... how fitting. Linda was such a playful person. I couldn't remember one family gathering where she wasn't laughing or telling a funny story or someone else was telling of some joke she'd played on an unsuspecting soul. I found out later that others were looking to that playground with these same thoughts.

I wondered how anyone could survive the devastation of cancer and all it robs us of without knowing the loving arms of God surrounding them; the Creator whispering hints of home. I wished there was a person in the park to hear these words of comfort, someone who needed it perhaps even more than we did. Within a minute, a mom with her toddler arrived and quietly played while our tiny ceremony carried on. I couldn't help but think that one precious life had just left this world and that little girl was just entering. I lifted her and her momma up in prayer. 

The pastor concluded with verse 10 of that Psalm and I quoted with him in my mind, "Be still and know that I am God." That's exactly what we were all doing, I was sure. We began to sing the Doxology, and as our voices floated through that lovely cemetery overlooking the playground, we laid astilbe stems on Linda's casket, and I was overwhelmed by how much God was sustaining our family. 

Praise God, from Whom all blessings flow;

Praise Him, all creatures here below;    

Praise Him above, ye heavenly host;

Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen. 

We walked back to our vehicles a little sadder, since this part of the day is always the most difficult. Linda knew this and so she made certain in her long notes about her funeral, that we'd end with a celebration, not the burial. Sustaining grace once again.

Not long after, we settled in reserved pews at the front of the church for the service. We took up six rows with the size of our family--blessings in numbers. Several of us from the family sang, "Your Love Never Fails" by Chris Tomlin, on the stage. My brother-in-law, sister-in-law and niece sang, "I Am Not Alone" by Kari Jobe. Linda's siblings shared humorously about growing up with their sister, and her children lovingly related stories of their mother with their dad standing beside them. Those brave, funny and sweet kids drew tears to my eyes. Pastor Paul spoke again and compared our sorrow to that of the storm Jesus' disciples had experienced in their boat. He began to tell of Jesus' power to calm the wind and waves and in that very moment, like a real object lesson straight from heaven, torrential rains pounded the roof of the church. Thunder roared out of nowhere and was suddenly gone as he counseled us to trust the Lord with our lives. Many were moved at the timing of it all. 

Hugs were abundant these past few days. Three well-attended visitations and a funeral later, we'd been squeezed by a lot of caring and prayerful people. More words of wisdom, more faith, more hope, more assurance. As I ravenously gobbled up a sandwich after the service, my eyes feasted on the gift of community lavished on us. I'd married into the Dutch world and it initially took some getting used to. Nearly twenty-one years later, I do nothing but praise God for this hard-working, dependable group who never drop the ball when it comes to love and support. The Lord has rewarded their faithfulness to Him with a strength of spirit and a certainty of His reality. I'm grateful to be one of them, doing my best to dote on my grieving brother-in-law and his children, and my parents-in-law. And more hugs abounding.

I held my girl on my lap and talked about death and hope and the joy of heaven. She understood that the coming days would be the tough ones for Aunt Linda's immediate family... resuming life as usual... kind of. She quite decidedly announced she was going to fast for her cousins so that they would be okay and happy. I told her that was a very loving thing to do for them and that I know God will answer her prayers because that's His desire for them too. And as days turn into years, I will keep the memory of my beautiful sister-in-law alive and remind my children about her hilarious personality and how we loved her. I will tell them how our gracious God granted us four years with her after her initial diagnosis of stage four cancer. And they will remember how God gave them an aunt they'll never forget. 

 Hanging together at the funeral home.

Practicing our song.

Waiting for a cue from Terry, who was playing the piano.

Watching the beautiful video of photos of Linda growing up, getting married, having children and living life.

Linda's two sisters xo

Cousins make everything less difficult.

Linda's two sisters xo

 Saying goodbye.

Rubber chicken on her casket? Yep, her kids knew her well :)

Sibling speech--funny, real, and loving.

 Found a crazy bunch of kids at the funeral :)

Bailey's sweet supporters.

 Post-funeral family time. Always laughing, even through the sadness.

 More amazing family.

 God is sustaining our joy and giving peace. May He be felt among us and through us in the difficult days to come.

(The Scripture that comforted Linda in her last months...)

Jesus said to her, "I am the Resurrection and the Life. The one who believes in Me will live, even though they die, and whoever lives by believing in Me will never die. Do you believe this?"
John 11:25,26

Giddy For Spring

"Mommy, come see!"

They know how to get me up out of my chair. Admittedly, I can get lost in my reading or conversation with a friend and ignore my children's attempts to get my attention when I'm needing a break. However, they've got it figured out that pointing out a new bird or fresh evidence of spring makes me giddy and so they use that ploy. Sometimes it's real and sometimes it's devised, but I'll give them points just for trying. ;)  My children also know it doesn't take much to convince me that we should all pile into the truck, loaded with bikes and scooters and head to the woods or park. Schoolwork completed first, of course :)

 

Since spring is the long-awaited sigh of relief after a very cold, seemingly eternal winter, every sign of it is like one more blossom in our basket of spring hopefulness. Every still-cool day and every rainy one causes us to long even more for the predictably warm and balmy weeks ahead. Nevertheless, we've taken our chances and ventured to our favourite spots to gather more hope. 

When the snow was teasing us with its melting and then returned once more.

Mama watches with joy as her swing-set is being used once again.

Tufted titmouse at my mom's. LOVE seeing new birds (to us) when it seems we've exhausted all our learning about the regular visitors there.

Sliding into the creek at "Auntie" Sandee's and their new puppy trying to rescue him.

 Favourite pastime, if you hadn't noticed :)

What we tend to ignore all summer and fall is like a gem in the spring when you're anxiously looking for signs that winter is over.

Happy to wave at the caterpillar but doesn't want to touch. We'll train her soon enough :)

God's handiwork draws me to worship at every turn.

This killdeer fakes a broken wing to lure us away from his wife who stands over their nest of eggs.

First two eggs, the next day three, and a couple days later, we counted four!

We try not to bother them (too much).

 Night Heron. A couple of trees full of fourteen of them! A wow factor indeed, for all of us.

 My first brown creeper. LOVE that Emily pointed him out. She catches things quicker than anyone.

 LOVE the kind birdwatchers who came to find us just to show us this Eastern Screech Owl. Another first!

Cute little menace :)

 

I cannot express my giddiness over the exploratory adventures we will encounter in the coming days.

   Happy Spring! XO