Mourning: A Season Of Change

Always be joyful.  Always keep on praying.  No matter what happens, always be thankful, for this is God’s will for you who belong to Christ Jesus.     1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

The sunlight pierced through my window like a loud unwelcome guest. Ready or not, it's another day.  Breathing is difficult.  Forcing myself to get out of bed is only possible when allured by a hot, comforting cup of coffee.  I go from bed to living room sofa.  I am lucky if I accomplish anything at all by the time the sun sets.  The moon is a steady companion, for as the moon rises the phone calls, agendas and questions fade and I finally have permission to just be. Many nights I am awake until my eyes grow so heavy they involuntarily close, other nights are met by the rising sun and then it is off to bed just as the rest of the world awakens.

Some would call this depression and they may be right. Grief is indeed an unshakable sadness, for which there are no words.  You can not rush the process or will it away, no matter how great your honest effort may be.  When you have suffered a loss...you feel at a loss.  Nothing more to give.  Extreme highs or lows from an outside force can tip you over the edge at any moment.  It is difficult to trust the sincerity of questions of concern and yet when one finally breaks through the wall of solitude a torrent of emotion comes forth in uncontrollable tears.  This is mourning.  Empty, dark, desperate, alone.  There is no relief...we must simple rest in God and ride the waves towards healing.

Let all that I am wait quietly before God, for my hope is in him.
6 He alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress where I will not be shaken.
7 My victory and honor come from God alone.
He is my refuge, a rock where no enemy can reach me.
8 O my people, trust in him at all times. 
Pour out your heart to him,  for God is our refuge. Psalm 62:5-8

I am not a stranger to grief.  I suffered my first great loss at age 15. July 16,1989.  The day one of my closest friends from childhood took his life in his bedroom.  A shotgun blast to the head.   Three months later, my mom confessed he had called me just five minutes before the fatal blow.  I wasn't home.  I have found that grief can not be measured by relation or accurance.  Grief is different every time for everyone.  However having a loved one take their own life is one of the greatest aches of the heart.  So wasteful, so unnecessary, so preventable.  Yet, those who take their life are very good at keeping it from their loved ones and when they do, the shock is unbearable for those left to mourn.

I felt my next great loss when I was 18 years old, April 13,1992.  I was on a missions trip in San Vacente, Mexico when I was awakened in the middle of the night with news that my dad had died suddenly.  My world was turned upside down.  I loved my dad although he was not a perfect man.  His diabetes, smoking and stressful work environment left him unhealthy and agitated.  At 50 years old his heart couldn't take it anymore and he died in his sleep.  My grief for my dad was tempered by the intensity of my moms emotional instability.  Both my sister and I had to jump into "take care of mom" mode and I'm not sure how well I dealt with the loss of my dad.

Less than a year later I experienced my 3rd deep loss.  One week after giving me away at my wedding, my grandfather was diagnosed with Cirrhosis of the Liver and was lying on his death bed in the hospital on March 22, 1993.   I arrived home from our honeymoon just in time and although he wasn't conscious, when I spoke to my grandpa at his bedside, a tear ran down his cheek.  He died less than 24 hours later.   My grandpa was my dads dad and the only grandparent I had ever known. He was a sweet, gentle man who loved his only child and his family very, very much.  After my dads passing, my grandpa was so grieved that I often wonder if he died of a broken heart.  In one year, I lost the two most steady and influential men in my life.  My stability.  My safety.  The ones who were indestructible in the eyes of a little girl, were suddenly gone.  I was 19 and I was devastated.

For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.  So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.  2 Corinthians 4:17-18

I was caught up in the whirlwind of taking care of my mom, grieving my dad and grandpa, and learning how to be a new wife to Justin when we found out we were pregnant with our first child on August 8, 1993.  A couple of months later, we found out our baby was a girl and we named her Deverie Ellen.  On June 11,1994 I gave birth to our beautiful little girl weighing 7 lb 12 ounces.  She had a birth mark that completely covered the tip of her nose.  Adorable.  She was perfect, our little gift from God to signal an end to loss in our family.  However, we noticed something wasn't quite right when she was just 4 hours old.  Her mouth and finger tips were blue.  I couldn't seem to get her warm enough, even while skin to skin, and she kept crying and crying.  A nurse came in and took her to their NICU for some testing.  About two hours later, Deverie was on her way to UCSF in San Francisco via ambulance.  This was about 830 pm and I would not be discharged until 130 pm the next day.  That was the longest night of my life.  When we arrived at UCSF the next day, we were told that our baby girl had a severe congenital heart defect and the best they could do was keep her in the hospital and work on getting her strong enough for open heart surgery.  For 10 days I nursed Deverie, and pumped in between so the nurses would always have a supply..  I sang her songs as she sucked on my pinkie finger and I prayed and prayed for God to heal her tiny tube covered body as I rocked her in the rocking chair in NICU.  On day 11 she had her first big surgery.... But she didn't make it.  On July 22,1994, I felt a mothers devastated heart as I encountered the worse loss I have ever felt.  Nothing can prepare you for losing your child.  It doesn't matter how old they are, in the womb or out.  There is a maternal bond that takes place early in the pregnancy, and when that bond is broken by death, it is a deep, inexplicable sorrow.  There truly are no words.  For days after the passing of Deverie, Justin had to wrap my chest as tightly as he could with Ace bandages to stop my milk from coming in.  This process is humiliating and painful, but necessary, for it is the quickest way to stop the natural process of production after nursing and pumping as often as I was.  My arms physically ached to hold her.  I wasn't sure how to cope after losing my dad in 92, my grandpa in 93, and now my baby girl in 94.  I wouldn't have made it...if not for Jesus and the comfort of His Holy Spirit.

But the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name, he shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you.  John 14:26

So be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid.  For the LORD your God will personally go ahead of you. He will neither fail you nor abandon you. Deuteronomy 31:6

Within one year, Justin and I had the great joy of bringing Rachelle Hope into the world on Mothers Day, May 14, 1995 and then Malaki William, January 9,1997.  My body was tired after 3 years of pregnancy and my heart was tired with all of the changes the past 5 years had just brought, but my constant strength and friendship was always found in my wonderful husband Justin, and my precious Savior, Jesus.

The Lord’s my Shepherd, I’ll not want. He makes me down to lie In pastures green; 

He leadeth me The quiet waters by. My soul He doth restore again;

And me to walk doth make Within the paths of righteousness,  Even for His own Name’s sake.

Yea, though I walk in death’s dark vale, Yet will I fear no ill;
For Thou art with me; and Thy rod And staff my comfort still.

My table Thou hast furnishèd In presence of my foes; 

My head Thou dost with oil anoint, And my cup overflows.

Goodness and mercy all my life Shall surely follow me;
And in God’s house forevermore My dwelling place shall be. Psalm 23

The years 1995 to 2012 were filled with the usual ups and downs of life, chaos of raising kids and the constant juggle to gain control of finances in the midst of ministry and economic crisis, but we had not had any other immediate family loss on my side, until September 12, 2013.  The day my mom died.  With everything I mentioned before, my mom was always there for me. She was the one to tell me about dad on the phone, and even as she grieved loosing my dad, she helped me plan my wedding.  She paid for everything and even sent Justin and I on our honeymoon.  When we found out we were pregnant with Deverie, she felt that the baby was a glimmer of hope, something to look forward too after so many tears.  And when Deverie was in the hospital, mom stayed by our side in San Francisco, never leaving once, and paid for a condo for us to stay in nearby the hospital. When Deverie passed away, mom bought us a family plot so that Justin and I could be buried with her someday.  She rejoiced in her grand babies and was always there when we needed her.  She relished the role of Grammy, especially during the holidays.  She was feisty and she was sweet.  Losing my mom, is one of the most difficult losses I have ever felt.  Again, you can't really compare, they are all different, but plain and simple...I am so heartbroken that my mom is gone.  My childhood, family and home is gone.  It is now just my sister and I holding tightly to our memories with mom, dad, and grandpa.

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:

a time to be born and a time to die, time to plant and a time to uproot,

a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build,

a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, 

a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, 

a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,

a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away,

a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak,

a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace.  Ecclesiastes 3

I knew that losing my mom would be an emotional blow, but I was completely caught off guard by the sense of finality I would feel regarding my childhood.  Over this past year we had to pack up 35 years worth of memories as selling her house became necessary.  I found toys and books from my childhood, items that belonged to my dad that I had not seen for the 20 years since his passing. We had to sift through old report cards, childhood crafts and paintings, and closets filled with family mementos that went back five generations.  I found myself not only grieving my mom, but my dad and my grandpa all over again.  I had to say goodbye to tangible memories of my childhood house and my hometown.  I was born and raised in Ukiah.  My home had always been rooted there...with my mom and all her boxes of memories.  Now it was time to sift through the boxes and divide everything between my sister and I.  Such a difficult task, compounded by this overwhelming feeling of.."I don't want to do this.  I'm not ready to do this.  I'm not ready to let go of my family, my home, my memories. My mom."  Last year I said goodbye to everyone all over again...and goodbye to "home" for the first time.

My mom was the matriarch of the family.  She was the queen bee.  Although I have lived a very independent life for the past 21 years, I was always thinking about her, considering her and checking in with her.  Every Thanksgiving and Christmas was spent with mom.  She planned the meals, she cooked, she baked and she would always decorate her house beautifully for the holidays.  Twinkling lights, music boxes, snowy villages, dancing Disney cartoon animals and animated Santa's.  My mom's home was a child's Christmas dream, and this was exactly how she wanted it.  Christmas movies and music was always on in the background, and Pecan Tossies baking in the oven.  Her fridge filled with stews and chicken dumplings, sugar plums and homemade quiche.  On her table would be an assortment of sugar cookies, lemon bars, gingerbread men and pies.  She loved Christmas and we loved Christmas at Grammys!  Every Christmas morning we would wake up to a tree loaded with presents.  At least three for every person, just from Grammy. And then each of us would buy one or two for each other, some big, some small...but always wrapped and placed under the tree with such love and excitement.  The kids would wake up first and put the coffee on, and then as we all filled the family room we would each start going through our stocking.  Yes, parents too.  When I was 10 and my sister 16, we surprised our parents with stockings of their own in the morning.  My mom loved it so much, that we just kept the tradition going! And now parents are never left out.  After the stockings, we would head into the living room and take our time opening the presents one by one, taking turns enjoying the giving just as much as the receiving.  It was meaningful and exciting.  It was family and it was tradition.

Now that my mom has gone home to heaven, it seems that the Thanksgiving and Christmas celebrations are up to me.  The mantle has been passed.  This is something that fits me and I will take great joy in carrying on the family traditions that my mom loved so much and that we all truly appreciated and cherished.  However, it is just too soon.  I hoped to have my mom around for at least 10 more years.  Losing her at the age of 70 was just not the plan.  I wasn't ready to go it alone, and I'm still not.  But I will.

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Psalm 46:1

With joy, I will move forward and I will cook and bake and decorate just as she taught me.  With Jesus as my friend and my strength I will carry on in our traditions for the sake of my family, just as my mom did when my dad passed.  I will celebrate Jesus, family and all of our memories.  I will choose to look forward and not behind. To remember with thankfulness and cherish what I can hold on to rather than regret what I can not. I will learn the lessons of love and loss, I will live in the now, and not the past.  I will be forever grateful for the shadows in my life, for when you have experienced darkness, how great your appreciation for the light!

Here is the great truth that I have learned in mourning the departure of my loved ones.  Though I feel alone, I am never alone. Jesus has always been with me.  He has held me, talked with me, loved me, had compassion on me, taught me, and He has never left my side.  When no one else could comfort me...His Holy Spirit knew just what to do.  One thing I know for sure, is that although our carnal bodies may fail us, His loving kindness has no end and He being eternal, will never leave me or forsake me.  So no matter who comes or goes, I am never at risk of being separated from God and I will be with Him forever on the day He calls ME home.

So how do we cope with grief?  What about those days that we just don't want to climb out of bed?  The nights when tears stream like rivers down our cheeks and we cry from somewhere deep in our souls?  When our hearts break to the point of stealing our breath away?  When we don't want to be alone, but we don't have the strength to be around others?  What do we do?  How do we heal?  Everyone is different.  Every path varies.  Every journey is in it's own time.  But one thing I know for sure...those who know Jesus, are not ever without hope.  And when we feel like we are at the end of ourselves, He is there.  He fills us with His life and His light, when all we can see is death in the clouds.  He is strong...when our strength is gone.  And it is okay...to just be.  Just be.  HE will make all things beautiful in it's time.  This is my experience and this what I cling to.  His truth.  His life.  His hope.  His....hand.  Until this season of change has come to an end and a new season begins again...

Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning.  Psalm 30:5