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.                            

Deep Breath

6 months.
Continuing to trust. Continuing to put one foot in front of the other. Praying for strength.

Our Amazing God

When trials and difficulties come, we often think of Job. Job was someone who lost everything and was still faithful to God. I read the entire book of Job, probably for the first time, when we received the diagnosis of our youngest son, Kyle. I was about 4 months pregnant when we found out the baby I was carrying would have Down syndrome. At that time, I focused on the last chapter of Job where we are told that God blessed the latter part of Job’s life more than the first.  For all the pain and grief I went through at that time, I always held onto the fact that Job received more blessing in the latter part of his life. I prayed that as I obeyed God, He would grant the same to me. 

In many ways, as I have gotten to know Kyle, I believe God has blessed more since Kyle was born. Kyle has taught me more about compassion and perseverance than what I would have understood without him. He has shown me that happiness and contentment do not depend on a high IQ, and he demonstrates God’s unconditional love. But, I have to be honest to say that life with Kyle is not always easy. He has many challenges, his biggest one being speech. Kyle has apraxia of speech, and while he is able to say a few words (most of them only recognizable by family members), he is not able to carry on a conversation.

When Jim died, I was given a book written by John Piper based on the book of Job. As I studied that book, a different verse stood out to me. It was Job 42:5. “My ears had heard of You but now my eyes have seen You.” I’ve learned that as we go through difficult times and we lean on God for the very strength to put one foot in front of the other, He reveals Himself to us in a new and deeper way. I have experienced that very thing. My relationship with God is much more intimate than it ever has been.

Jim and I did not discuss what would happen if he died very often, mostly because I was uncomfortable with the conversation and wanted to hold on, with everything that was in me, to the plan of a bone marrow transplant and full remission. I think, in hindsight, Jim came to grips with the fact that he could very well die far before I ever did. I do remember a conversation we had one day last November when Jim was so very ill. I asked him if he thought he was going to die and if he was fearful at all. He told me he had no fear of dying. He knew his destination was heaven. But he was sad that the dreams we had planned for our life together would die along with him. Tears welled up in my eyes and I blurted out, “What would I do without you?”  I went on to tell him that the two older boys would grow up and leave and I would be left alone with Kyle.  Then I said, “And he doesn’t even talk!”

Jim did not say anything. He just looked at me with tears in his eyes.

Fast forward to today. Today was another day where I just haven’t been able to get moving. I have the whole day to myself to get caught up on things and accomplish whatever I put my mind to and I’m just stuck. I have spent far too much time on the computer waiting for the hours to tick by so I can go to bed and start over tomorrow. As I sit here the tears come again and the loneliness overtakes me. It is painful. Sometimes I miss Jim so much.

Then I hear something. It’s Kyle. And he is singing to a children’s video that he loves. For some reason, even though it's difficult for Kyle to talk, he is able to sing some things and he seems to be able to sing easier than he can talk. Today I listened to him sing loudly and freely, “Oh, the blood of Jesus; Oh, the blood of Jesus; Oh, the blood of Jesus; that washes white as snow.”  Then the music transitions to another song:  “God, you’re so good. God, you’re so good. God, you’re so good. You’re so good to me.” Words I needed to hear right that very minute from a little boy who, in spite of all his challenges, praises God with all that he is.

A. maz.ing.  How like God is it to speak to me through my son who can hardly talk.

Work

After Jim’s death, I was given many books on grief from some dear friends and family and I’ve read them all.  One thing that struck me was that, over and over again, the journey I am on was referred to as “grief work.” It was emphasized in each book that I need to do my “grief work” before healing can happen. I hate that. But it is so true. It is work!

Early on, my grief seemed to be something that overshadowed my life. I was sad all the time and cried every day. It was as if a black cloud hung over me and followed me everywhere. It was a sad, dark place to be. As the days went by, I found that I had good days and bad days. Evenings were hard but weekend were the hardest. I remember waking up on the weekend mornings with puffy eyes from crying all day the day before. 

Now, I’m experiencing what are called “grief bursts” or I’ve heard them referred to as “grief ambushes.”   That’s when I seem to be functioning okay but then something happens that triggers the pain and grief of losing Jim. It’s called an ambush because it sneaks up and attacks when you least expect it. And it’s really hard.

It was May 4^th and I was out running errands. I decided to take time to vote while I was out. I went through the line and gave them my driver’s license. The gentleman looked up my name and turned the book around for me to sign. And there on the page above my name was Jim’s name and a copy of his signature. My heart ached. I remembered all the times I voted and always saw Jim’s fresh signature next to the copy of his signature. It was always there because he always took time to vote first thing in the morning before he went to work. That day it was not there.  Because he is not here. My heart ached. I thought I should really tell them about his passing, but I just couldn't. I knew it would be the end of my day if I had to say those words out loud, “My husband died last December.” The pain would come and the tears would fall as they always do, and I would be exhausted from crying. It is hard work.

One day the phone rang and for a split second, I thought it was Jim. He would often call me to check in when he and I were apart. After a second, I came to my senses to realize it couldn’t be him. It's been five months! I took a deep breath and held it together so I could answer the phone. But the pain was there, even without the tears. And I ached.

Another day, as I was driving into my garage, I thought how unruly the bushes in the front of the garage had become.  Again, for that split second, I thought, “I need to tell Jim that he should trim those back this weekend.”  He always took care of those kinds of chores.  Now, they are all mine to take care of.  I hate that too.  I walked into the house and cried again missing Jim so much.  My oldest son began talking to me and then realized I was crying.  He put his arm around me and listened as I told him how painful this all is.  I said, “Just when I think I’m doing alright, some little thing happens and I end up crying again.”  

My wise son told me, “Just because we still cry, doesn’t mean we aren’t doing alright.”  And he is right.  It’s all part of the work – the work of grief.  And it’s hard.

Hearing His Voice

I have learned and experienced so much since Jim passed away last December. I want to take this opportunity to recount some of it so I don’t forget.

Much of what I lived through during Jim’s death and funeral was a blur, but I do remember the afternoon of the funeral. I was sitting on the couch in our great room with the worst feeling of dread that I had ever felt. I was in shock as I considered all that had just happened over the past week. I was given the news that Jim was gravely ill and had 3-5 days to live. I did my best to love him and care for him as he lay dying. I held his hand and watched him take his last breath. I made funeral arrangements and buried him. It was all so unbelievable and yet, this was my life unfolding before me.

All I could think while I was sitting on that couch was, “What am I going to do now? How are we going to ‘make it?’ and “I don’t want to do life alone!” I told Jim over and over that we would be okay. I assured my sons that we would be okay but that things would be different. I prayed that God would help us. But how would we do this now?

Later that day, Brad called me into the office. He told me he had just heard his Dad’s voice on a voicemail Jim left for Brad on his phone. He forgot he never erased it and had just listened to it and played it again for me to hear. It was bittersweet for him but I was a little envious. I realized I didn’t have Jim’s voice recorded anywhere, and I probably would never hear his voice again. The stabbing feeling of being all alone hit me again.

The next day, I continued to struggle with fear. I didn’t know how the bills would get paid. I didn’t know how I would make all the decisions for our home and family alone. I didn’t think I was smart enough to manage our finances, income tax preparation and other decisions that would need to be made. Would I need to sell the house and downsize right away? How would I be able to sell this house all by myself? What would I do the first time the car didn’t start? Who would I call when I needed help? How would we be able to pay for college for the boys? I wondered what Jim would want me to do. How would he encourage me if he were here? I wanted to talk to him and have him help me with everything I was faced with. But the dread returned as reality hit me in the face. I was alone. Jim was gone.

Then I remembered. I do have Jim’s voice recorded. Not only his voice but the entire video he did for church last March. I had gotten a copy of it from church and posted it on the blog. I just wanted to hear his voice again. I quickly got my computer and pulled up that video. “Fighting Fear.” Oh, how appropriate the title was. Tears streamed down my face as I watched the video and realized that Jim’s eyes were looking straight into mine and he was talking directly to me. How compassionate and loving is my heavenly Father to give me the answer to all my questions through my own husband's voice. This is what I heard:

Five Months Today

Over the last couple of weeks, I have struggled again. Even though I tell God each day I am trusting Him, sometimes it seems like empty words. As the day wears on, I find myself taking back all the fear that goes along with this horrible situation. I wonder about my future, and I so wish I could have my husband back. Of course, I end up in a heap of tears.

As I pondered all of this, I thought of Romans 8:28.  "And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are called according to his purpose."  I wondered how God was going to work this situation for good.

I’ve always thought it was interesting how God’s ways are often different from what we would instinctively think. I’ve called it “Opposite World.” In the book of Matthew, when Jesus talks about returning a blessing for an insult, or loving your enemies, He says, “You think . . . but I tell you this . . .” And it is usually the opposite of what we would instinctively do or think. God's ways are truly different than our ways.  As we learn more about God and spend time with Him, we are able to see how He can work all things together for good.  I have experienced this "opposite world" with my children.  Many might believe that having a child with a disability or chronic illness would be a bad thing, but God can work even those things for good. He uses our weakness to bring Himself glory. So how can He use Jim’s death to bring glory to Himself – especially when all I can see is the pain and loss I am experiencing?

I’ve thought about a couple of blessings that widowhood brings. The first is gratitude. I am so thankful that God gave me the gift of Jim as my husband. I’m thankful that I was married to him for 20 years. I’m thankful for all the help and support I’ve received since his death. I’m thankful for my children who were born out of this marriage. I’m thankful that God promises that He will never leave me or forsake me. And God is teaching me to come to Him with a thankful heart for every circumstance in my life.

Another blessing I've thought about is fortitude. Fortitude is defined as "strength of mind that enables a person to encounter danger or bear pain or adversity with courage." Even though losing my husband was unimaginable, it apparently was not impossible. And, even though I thought I could not live without Jim, I’ve found that each morning the sun rises and I crawl out of bed to face another day. Some days have been difficult, without a doubt, but I’ve put one foot in front of the other. I would never have described myself as courageous or someone with fortitude before Jim died. But, because of this situation, I have seen a strength in myself that even I didn’t recognize. It has to be a strength that the Lord has provided. It is answered prayer from each time I prayed begging God for the strength to get through another day.

Another blessing is the opportunity to get to know myself better. I have learned that I will never be the same person I was before Jim died.  From the moment I heard his diagnosis, my life changed.  Experiencing the death of my husband is now a part of who I am. I will always have the history of our marriage and children in my life. My life with Jim and his death are now interwoven into my very being. Now I have the job of discovering who that person is and what God's purpose is for my life.

Today marks the 5-month anniversary of Jim’s death. Five. months. Although I realize that my grieving for him is not over, I am encouraged to see that I can recognize some blessings of being a widow only 5 months after his death. It is good to see that healing is happening.  Our God is indeed so very faithful.

These Are The Words I Would Say

When your spouse dies, there is a mountain of paperwork to take care of. It is a tough time. Not only are you grieving the loss of your husband, but then you are expected to have your wits about you to handle bank accounts, life insurance claims, health insurance, etc. etc. etc.

Once the bank learned that Jim was “deceased,” they froze all our accounts that had Jim’s name on them. I was on my way to the bank to give them the death certificate to be able to have access to my accounts again. These were the days when my grief was so heavy at times it was difficult to function.  Everything was an effort. I often felt like my feet were stuck in the mud. I got in my car and started out for the bank. I came to the first stop sign in our subdivision and stopped.  The situation became overwhelming to me. Without really thinking, I screamed as loud as I could even surprising myself a little. It was unthinkable that my husband was dead – at age 45! This wasn’t supposed to happen! My other friends still had their husbands. I screamed again so hard that my throat hurt. Then the tears came. I cried as I drove. I cried and cried. I wondered once again how I would be able to live life without Jim. As I continued to lament, a song came on the radio and I listened. It was a song I had heard before but never thought much about it.  This time I listened to the words as if Jim were saying them to me. And then more tears began to flow.  But they were tears of amazement at God's love for me. Again, God provided more answers to my questions of how to go on in life without Jim. It amazes me to see how gentle and caring God is with me, to speak to me at a time that I needed to hear from Him the most. These are the words I heard:


Three in the morning, and I’m still awake
So I picked up a pen and a page
And I started writing just what I’d say If we were face to face
I’d tell you just what you mean to me
Tell you these simple truths


Be strong in the Lord
And never give up hope
You’re gonna do great things
I already know
God’s got His hand on You
So don’t live life in fear
Forgive and forget
But don’t forget why you’re here
Take your time and pray
These are the words I would say


Last time we spoke you said you were hurting
And I felt your pain in my heart
I want to tell you that I keep on praying
That love will find you where you are
I know cause I’ve already been there
So please hear these simple truths


Be strong in the Lord
And never give up hope
You’re gonna do great things
I already know
God’s got His hand on You
So don’t live life in fear
Forgive and forget
But don’t forget why you’re here
Take your time and pray
These are the words I would say ...


from one simple life to another I will say…
come find peace in the Father
 
Be strong in the Lord
And never give up hope
You’re gonna do great things I already know
God’s got His hand on You
So don’t live life in fear
Forgive and forget
But don’t forget why you’re here
Take your time and pray
And thank God for each day
His love will find a way
These are the words I would say

Hope

In a discussion this week, I was asked what "hope" means to me.  As I pondered that for a moment, my first thought was my hope of heaven.

When Jim was in the ICU on the Monday before he died, the doctor explained his situation to us and told us that he expected Jim only had 3-5 days to live. As horrible as that was to hear, I will never forget the look on Jim's face when our eyes met.  It was a sadness to know that he would be leaving me and we would be apart. But a peace was interwoven in that look because we knew he was headed for heaven and his suffering with leukemia would end.  I remember wishing I could go with him somehow.  As I reflect on that time now, I have come to realize what a blessing God gave us in that moment.  He allowed us to take it all in and say what we wanted to say to each other as we prepared for our time apart.  How gentle and loving our Father was to us during that time. 

To say I am going through a period of adjustment now that Jim is gone is an understatement. Even though right now I have moments that are painful because I miss Jim so much, I know one day, like him, I will spend my eternity in heaven with our Lord, and I will see Jim again.  What I struggle with now is adjusting to what seems to be a new plan for me, but in reality was God's plan all along.  What will my life look like between now and when I go home to be with the Lord?  As I have pondered this, fear has gripped me.  But each day, I fight that fear by spending time in the Lord's presence and telling Him, "I am trusting You again for today."  This, among other things, is my daily communication with God.  I am comforted each day to realize that God is in control and that His love for me is beyond my understanding and that He does have a plan for my life.  So I have hope not only in heaven but for my time remaining on this earth.

This is what Psalm 9:10 says:  "Those who know your name will trust in you, for you, Lord, have never forsaken those who seek you."


Psalm 27:13-14 is also a comfort to me.  "I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.  Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord."

The Season for Birthdays

Kyle is 14 today.  Hard to believe he is that old already. Remember the day he was born?  We were able to celebrate even though we knew challenges were ahead.  God gave us the time to adjust to the plan He had for Kyle and for us.  What a hidden blessing we have in this child.

Seems like he should be celebrating with his father today as well, but we are grateful for the sweet memories we have. Our ways are not always God's ways and yet we trust His wisdom and goodness and know His sweet love for us.  This is a favorite picture of Jim and Kyle that really shows the love and the bond between them.

Birthday Celebration Without You

Jim - Yesterday was Steven's birthday. Seventeen years old. We are missing you as we celebrate. Remember these?

This is the kid that always keeps us laughing and always keeps us on our toes. Wish you were here to help him blow out his candles.

Miss you like crazy and love you so much,

Marilyn

Light for the Next Step

On December 3, 2009, my husband, Jim Miller, went home to be with the Lord. This blog will serve as a place to document my thoughts and feelings and memories of Jim as I move forward in life without him.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him and He shall direct your path. Proverbs 3:5