Even When It Hurts

Steven had four wisdom teeth extracted yesterday. When I left him in the exam room and headed toward the waiting room, he was happy and chatting with the nurses. Then when I was called back to the recovery area, this is what I found.

Of course, through my maternal eyes, I saw my 17-year-old son as a vulnerable little 4-year-old boy.  He was still under the effects of the anesthesia and was just beginning to wake up. The nurse came in and put an ice pack on his head and without opening his eyes, he said some words that I could not understand because of the anesthesia and the gauze in his mouth. As the nurse walked away, I asked him to repeat what he said thinking he needed something or maybe was in pain. He still didn't open his eyes, but said very slowly so I could understand, “I said, Thank you so much.” And it caught me up short for a moment. I didn't expect his first words to be that of gratitude.

I stopped and thought about it for a moment and realized that ever since my boys were little, as soon as they were able to speak, I always made them thank the nurse or doctor when we went for doctor visits. It was difficult sometimes when they were little and needed a shot, but even through tear stained eyes, they would say, “Thank you.” I wanted them to trust me when it was unpleasant and know that even though it might hurt, it was for their best good. I wanted to teach them to be thankful to the medical professionals. My son Steven, unfortunately, has had more than his share of doctor visits and needle pokes; everything from allergy shots and blood draws to PICC lines. Even so, when Steven was hardly awake and his first words were that of gratitude, I was proud of him but also a little amazed.

Thinking about that later, I realized that this picture is much like my own experience with pain and gratitude. Just as I teach my children to be thankful in spite of the pain, my Heavenly Father expects the same from me. Although life is sometimes difficult, He wants me to be thankful even though it hurts and trust Him that it is for my best good. I may never understand why Jim had to go so soon, and why I’m left with the pain and grief of missing him, but I do know that I serve a sovereign God who has the best in mind for me. So, I will continue to say thank you and trust my heavenly Father for what is best for me - just as my children have learned to trust me and be thankful even when it hurts.

Sweet Gifts

Today is December 1^st and I have been doing lots of thinking and reflecting lately. Reflecting on the past year and specifically on where my family was one year ago today. I’ve heard from other people who know – others whose husbands have died - that the first anniversary of a loved one’s death can be very difficult; “dicey at best” is what one person told me. Dicey at best. So, I thought it would be wise to be gentle with myself as I navigate these upcoming days. I’ve lowered my expectations; the expectations that I place on myself to manage everything that I juggle on a daily basis. I’ve decided to live life during these days as it comes and feel the feelings that I’m bound to feel. Warm soaks in the tub and plenty of pampering will be my only appointments. And through it all, I plan to sit at the feet of Jesus to take in all the strength and grace and peace and loving kindness that He offers me.

A year ago today, I moved into Jim’s hospital room to be with him and help care for him as he lay dying in his hospital bed. Many friends and relatives came to visit to say their last goodbyes to Jim. I remember that even though Jim was on a morphine drip and seemed unresponsive, when we talked to him on that day, he would sometimes move his leg. We all wondered if that meant anything or if it was some involuntary movement. But as he continued to move his leg, it became apparent that he could still hear us and that moving his leg was all he could do to respond. I remember a friend came in and talked to me and then said to Jim, “Jim, is it okay if I pray with you?” and Jim nodded his head. We looked at each other and smiled to know that he was still with us and could hear us. And then we prayed. And I remember the sweet moment when even though he looked like he was sleeping, I leaned over and told him I loved him and kissed him on the lips for one of the last times, and he kissed me back. What a sweet gift.

My tears fall again even as I type this.  Tears are another sweet gift.  I have learned to be very comfortable with my tears over the past year.  Tears are healing and a way that our bodies release stress and grief.  What a gift God has given us to be able to have tears to process grief.  It is cleansing and a sign of courage and strength.

Strength. That’s another thing I’ve been thinking about lately. People tell me how strong I’ve been over this past year. I remember wondering how I would ever be able to “do life” without Jim after his passing.  I truly didn't think I was strong enough to handle everything by myself that it takes to keep this “Miller boat afloat” as my sister once told me I do.  It is truly amazing how our God gives us the amount of grace that is needed for each step that we need to take.  Although I believe I am not a quitter and that I had a certain amount of strength before Jim’s death, I experienced a strength I didn’t recognize in myself.  Another sweet gift. God’s strength working through me.

Probably one of the biggest things I’ve learned over the past year is to actually do what God asks me to do even when I don’t feel it.  In Philippians 4 it says, “Be careful for nothing; but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God.”  I remember in the early days after Jim’s passing, when I was engulfed in deep grief, I cried out to God through my tears. And I made myself say the words “thank you” for Jim’s death and for what I was experiencing. It was painful. But I knew what the next verse promises. “And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.” Another sweet gift. God has given me a peace that only He can give. Peace that we can’t understand in circumstances like this. Thank you Father!  So my practice now is to allow myself to feel the pain and grief of losing Jim but to always pair that with thanksgiving and gratitude. And He is always faithful to fulfill his promises.

So today, I’m going to continue to count my blessings. And thank God for every one.  They are many.  Peace.  Another sweet gift.

Celebrating Fall

As I sense the season of fall in the air with the leaves beginning to turn color and the cooler nights, I can’t help of think of where we were a year ago or even two years ago.  It was September 29^th that we were told the horrible news of Jim’s diagnosis two years ago.  I remember my knees going weak and grabbing the counter to steady myself as I heard him say the word “leukemia.”  And this time last year, we heard the word “relapse.”  And we cried for days.  It was so very painful and still is.  They say “time heals all wounds.”  It’s going to take a lot of time for this to heal.  It’s been almost 10 months and it still hurts.  I suppose the wound is scabbing over some but each time I feel this emptiness in my heart, the wound is reopened and hurts again. Then on September 30 last year, Jim suffered a seizure.  It was a very scary day for us and one I will never forget.

Over the last few weeks or so, I have been nervous about these upcoming dates as I have been warned how painful it is to relive these things a year later.  I’ve been looking for a way to manage the feelings that I was having and the memories that this season brings.  Then I remembered a suggestion a precious friend told me shortly after Jim’s passing.  Count your blessings.  It was something I did many times before in my life when I faced difficulties. I remember being very diligent to write down three blessings every day for months after we received Kyle’s diagnosis of Down syndrome.  It was a wonderful way to reframe my thinking. Instead of dwelling on the difficulties that this life brings, I dwell on the blessings that God gives. He is so faithful. So on Wednesday and Thursday (the 29^th and 30^th), each time a difficult memory of battling leukemia would arise, I would give that memory some space in my mind but then also pair it with thinking about a blessing from God. I found as I went throughout those days, I was identifying more and more blessings and the difficulties began to fade as I sensed God’s tender kindness and love for me. Out of everything those days brought, there are three things I experienced that I’d like to share. 

First, even though I have repeatedly said that I am trusting God with this season in my life without Jim, somehow the fear of what my future may hold keeps creeping back into my heart.  Daily I have to give it back to God and rest in Him.  Joshua 1:5 was comforting to me.  The New American Standard version translates it like this:  “Just as I have been with Moses, I will be with you; I will not fail you or forsake you.”  I love the words, “I WILL NOT FAIL YOU.”   God reminds me again and again how faithful He is.  Even after He has proven it to me in my past circumstances, He again makes it so very clear in his word that it seems to  jump off the page and into my heart. I also read a devotional entitled “Jesus Calling.”  It’s by Sarah Young and is written as if Jesus were speaking.  The entry for September 30 says:  

“I am perpetually with you, taking care of you. That is the most important fact of your existence.  I am not limited by time or space; My Presence with you is a forever-promise. You need not fear the future, for I am already there. When you make that quantum leap into eternity, you will find Me awaiting you in heaven.  Your future is in My hands; I release it to you day by day, moment by moment.  Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow.”  

What a comfort for me to know that because God is eternal, He is past, present and future all in one.  When I wonder or worry about my future, I am comforted to know that He is already there taking care of it.  How thankful I am that He releases my future to me day by day and all I need to do is live each present day to the fullest.  What an awesome God He is.

As my day went on, I heard a song on the radio that I had never heard before.  I love it when the song speaks directly to me.  I count it as a gift from God and it happened again with this song.  It’s an upbeat encouraging song called “Hold On” by Toby Mac.  I felt as if it were written for me.  You can hear it here:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1gfUs_8bgMQ 

Finally, I decided to take an online photography class.  It is an inspirational class that gives prompts for each day of October to celebrate the season of fall.  Fall has been a favorite season of mine and I've decided that instead of allowing the season to remind me of difficult times, I will treasure the blessings and beauty of fall each day during the month of October.

Here’s to celebrating fall:

Handling the Anger

Me, this morning as Steven gets in his car before school: “Make sure you clear your windows so you can see to drive. “

Steven, with the teenage eye roll: “Yes, Mom.”

Me, with a smile after realizing I told him something he already knew: “Aren’t you glad you have a mom to tell you these things?”

And Steven, as sweet as he is, says “Actually, yes. I AM glad I have a mom.”

And my heart breaks just a little more for him.

I don’t know what it is like to be a boy; and I don’t know what it is like to be a boy without a father. It’s hard to watch my children grieve. I have tried my best to give them opportunities to grieve in a healthy way, and I think they are doing the best they can considering how difficult it has been for them to lose their Dad.

But, this is when I have to pause and rein in the anger that rises up in me. I didn’t feel much anger in the aftermath of Jim’s home going until Father’s Day last June. As we all honored our fathers that day, it was painful for me to know that my children are fatherless and that it has left a huge void in their lives. I suppose it’s a bit like a mamma bear who wants to protect her cubs. I wish I could take away my children’s pain and make everything better for them. But Jim’s death was out of my control. It certainly was not my plan. On the afternoon of Father’s Day, I let God know exactly how I felt about that. I spewed out all the anger and grief and tears I had in me. Until I was exhausted. Grief. is. exhausting.

Steven wrote these words as he helped care for his Dad during his last days on earth when his grief was so very fresh and raw. He very courageously read these words at his father’s funeral. I still cannot read them without tears.

“To my father who is now up above,

The only man I ever loved.

It is not you, it is me

Who lies there restlessly.

It is my father who is going away

Who I pray for every day.

There is nothing I love more than to see you grin;

A laugh, a smile, when U of M gets a win.

You leave behind a family of four,

Who cry, and want you to feel pain no more.

The last year has been an adventure.

An experience in my heart I will always treasure.

Life will be wrong without my dad.

A life I never wanted, a life so sad.

You don’t know how much you make my world go around.

I don’t know how I will ever rebound.

You have lived a successful life

With three kids and a wife.

We need you right now,

And still we wonder how.

How we live our lives and know what to do

Living our lives without you.

I love you so much, this you know

It is too hard for me to say good bye, and let go.

So how do I handle my anger? Thankfully, God is strong enough to listen to my ranting and raving and see my shaking fist and the tears that flow. It’s a comfort to me to know that even the Biblical giants - David, a man after God’s own heart, or Job, who had everything taken away - lamented and cried out to God. They did not turn their backs on Him in there difficulties, but instead continued to communicate their true feelings of lament with the God they loved and served. And the best part for me is this: When the lines of communication are open, God is faithful to return my cry with healing and comfort and, of course, His peace that passes our understanding especially in my present circumstance.

And there is a measure of relief; relief from the overwhelming grief.

It's exactly what Jim told me on the video he left for us. Trust God. How can this be right for me or my children? I don’t know, but I do know God is trustworthy, and that He has a plan for my children and that plan is to prosper them and not to harm them. It’s a plan that will give them hope and a future. Somehow, God will use the pain of Jim’s death to mold us into the people He wants us to be. And so, even when I don’t understand, I will trust Him with my children and let the anger go. Instead, I will bask in the love I feel in His presence and help my children experience that love as well.

“Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you.” Jer. 29:12-13.

So thankful that I can tell my Father exactly how I feel.

Remember?

Jim,


Nineteen years ago today. Hard to believe it has been that long since our baby Brad was born. Remember how excited we were to have our first baby? Remember celebrating the good news that we were pregnant with our families? Remember how hot it was that June in 1991 when we only had air conditioning in our bedroom and I was so pregnant we thought I would burst? Remember how I went into labor but didn’t realize it was labor at first? Remember me talking to my sister and telling her that every so often I would have a moment that took me a minute to get my breath back, and she told me that she thought it might be labor? Remember your meeting being interrupted by your assistant when she told you that you needed to go home because your wife was in labor? Remember having to drive an hour to get home and stopping a police car and asking for an escort to get home quicker? (True story.) I remember your explanation to me that EMS would be coming to the house to check on me because the police officer explained that police escorts were only on T.V. but they could call EMS to come to the house to assist me. I remember being embarrassed to explain to the neighbors that I was all right but you were a little nervous when they asked why the EMS truck was at our house – and yes, with flashing lights. It was 14 long hours of labor before Brad was born.


I remember you being the best labor coach ever. I remember you helping me find a focal point for me to concentrate on when I went through the hard labor pains. I remember you didn’t want to go into the delivery room – that you wished you could have lived during the times when the Dads stayed in the waiting room. I never understood that and I even told the doctor that you wanted to cut the umbilical cord when that was probably the last thing you wanted to do. And remember? You did it for me. Remember the sheer joy we felt to have this baby boy and to be parents? Remember understanding better the love our heavenly Father has for us because of the immense love we felt for this child?


We looked at Brad and asked who he looked like more – you or me. We both agreed he had your nose and facial features, but I was certain his ears resembled mine. You said, “Maybe his ear lobes look like yours but the tops of his ears are just like mine!” I disagreed and our friend from church looked at us both as if we were crazy and said “Seriously?” in disbelief that we had analyzed every feature this child had.


I do remember telling you that I felt like I was just the vessel that carried your child because he looked so much like you. Just a couple weeks ago, I received a card in my mailbox at church from a dear friend who misses you. He described talking to Brad a week or so earlier and seeing a response from Brad that took his breath away for a moment because Brad’s gesture reminded him so much of you. He was happy that your legacy lives on through your son. What a sweet blessing for me as well to see you shining through when I look at Brad and talk to him. He reminds me so much of you at times. He thinks the same way you did and certainly has that same “calculator brain” that you had. What a gift from God, now that you are gone, for me to see glimpses of you in my son.

Jim, words can’t explain how much I miss you. I would give anything to have you back beside me again, doing life together and raising our boys. There are days my heart aches so much for you and I am fearful of what the future holds for me without you. It’s then that I remember what you always told me, “Don’t borrow trouble.” I also remember your words from the video you made for our church family, “The best way to face your fear is to trust God. You don’t know all the answers; you don’t even know all the questions. God knows what the answers are.”

And so I honor you by thanking God for my circumstances even when I don’t understand it all and trust Him for my future. And I pray for Brad, Steven and Kyle as they move forward in life without you.


I love you forever,


Marilyn

Remember these?

Receiving a Word

Shortly after Jim died, I was given a perpetual calendar called “Restore My Soul” which has an encouraging verse from God’s Word for each day of the year.  I have been amazed, on so many occasions, at how appropriate the verse is for how the events of the day unfold.  Since Scripture is one way we have communication with God, I look at this calendar each day to receive a word from my heavenly Father.   

July 1st is Jim’s birthday.  He would be 46 years old if he were still walking this earth with me. This evening, I read the verse for the day. It’s appropriately from James 1:12.

 “Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him.”

I can’t imagine anyone who could have persevered more than Jim did when he was battling leukemia.  Throughout that journey, he drew his strength and peace from God, and God was faithful to Jim to give comfort and surround him with love.  Jim’s love for God and faith in Him was so very evident to all who knew him, especially in his last days.  And God promises a crown of life to those who love him.  What a blessing to know that on this birthday, Jim is walking with our Savior who is rewarding him with crowns and eternal life with Him in heaven.  I can’t wait to join him there.

Our Wedding Prayer

My 91-year-old father moved in with me recently and life has taken another turn.  In all the busyness of getting him settled, I've neglected this blog.  Here are some thoughts I wrote in May about what would have been my 21st wedding anniversary.

I've been warned about those days. The first time you experience important days alone after a loved one dies - the first wedding anniversary, birthday, holiday, etc.  I’ve been warned that they can be very painful days without that loved one that used to celebrate with you.

Jim and I got married on May 20, 1989, and I was a little anxious about the anniversary of that day as the calendar neared toward it.  I talked with some friends who are also widowed and sought their advice as to how to handle that day.  My sons and I prepared for it too. I was hoping to be as proactive as possible to be able to recognize the day and celebrate the memories in a healthy way – but to avoid as much pain as possible.

The night before my anniversary, I dug out the video of our wedding and watched parts of it.  It struck me how young we all looked and how happy we were. I remember being so very happy. 

We asked Jim’s grandfather to say a prayer at our wedding. He was a career missionary and had been diagnosed with cancer a few months before we married. He was a bit thinner and weaker at the time of our wedding, but was able to pray a prayer that I will never forget. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I heard him pray:

“Almighty God and Heavenly Father, who has united this man and this woman in the holy estate of marriage, grant unto them grace to live therein according Thy holy Word. Strengthen them in constant fidelity and in true affection toward each other. Sustain and defend them against all trials and temptations and help them to pass through this life faithful toward Thee and in loving service to each other. Teach them that marriage is not living merely for each other. It is two uniting and joining hands to serve Thee. Give them a great spiritual purpose in life. May they seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness and the other things be added unto them.  May they not expect perfection of each other; that belongs only to Thee, Father.  May they minimize each other’s weaknesses, be swift to praise and magnify each other’s points of comeliness and strengths and see each other through a lover’s kind of patient eyes. Give them enough tears to keep them tender, enough hurt to keep them humane, enough failure to keep their hands clenched tightly in Thine, enough success to make them sure they walk with Thee. May they never take each other’s love for granted but always express with a breathless wonder that exclaims that, out of all this world, you have chosen me. When life is done, the sun is setting, may they be found then, as now, still hand in hand, still thanking God for each other.  May they serve thee happily, faithfully together until at last one shall lay the other into the arms of God. 

This we ask in Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior.  Amen.”        

   

Twenty years later, as Jim laid in that hospital room dying, we were then as we were on our wedding day, hand in hand, with me expressing my love to Jim and thanking God for him.  We served God faithfully together as I laid my beloved husband into the arms of God.

As I reflect on this prayer and my life with Jim, I can see how God answered it in so many ways.  How precious our time was together through 20 years of marriage!

On the day of my anniversary, my sons decided we should celebrate by meeting for dinner. So, we drove halfway between here and Bethel College where my oldest, Brad, attends college.  We enjoyed dinner together, and as we were leaving the restaurant, Brad asked me to walk him to his car. I was surprised to tears as he pulled out a dozen red roses and gave them to me. His sensitivity to me on that day was so sweet to me. The boys and I hugged each other outside of that restaurant and talked about how much we missed their Dad. We shed more tears, of course, but they were healing tears. I can’t help but imagine how proud Jim would be of his sons and the way they are caring for me. I am so blessed.