Tell About It Tuesday -- While We're Waiting Weekend for Bereaved Parents

"Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us, Unto him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus throughout all ages, world without end. Amen."  (Ephesians 3:20-21 KJV)

Every time we have one of these weekend retreats for bereaved parents, this is the Scripture that comes to mind.  I always have an idea in mind of how the weekend is going to go ... I know who's coming (at least their names and where they're from), I know a little bit about their stories, I know what activities we have planned, I know what our schedule shows.  I mean, this is the seventh one of these retreats we've hosted ... you would think it would be more or less routine by now.

But every time, every time, without fail, God does exceeding abundantly above anything I had asked for or even thought of.  He once again brought together the perfect group of parents ... exactly the folks who needed to be there at just the time they needed to be there.  We were privileged to hear the stories of their precious children.  Our conversations were rich, and I heard such strong statements of faith from these parents, even in the midst of deep pain.  Certainly there were tears, but they were diluted by fervent prayer, warm hugs, and words of compassion from other parents who truly understood.

There was laughter too ... lots of laughter.  We enjoyed all of the fun activities Family Farm has to offer.  The weather was a bit chilly for early April, but a little cool air didn't slow us down.  

On Saturday morning, we met out on the front steps of the Lodge to put on the Armor of God -- No better way to start the day!

From there, we went out to the barnyard.  There's something so therapeutic about hanging out with animals.

Later that day, we spent some time at Slide Mountain ...

The group conquered the "Islands".  Well, sort of.  The idea is to get the whole group across three wooden platforms using only three board and a rope.  The stakes are high, as the leaves on the ground are actually "boiling hot lava." 

We tried out the balance log ... And actually held it for 30 seconds!  (Although Daddy May counted pretty fast!)

A little archery ...

And it's never too cold for the zip line!

The Mays shared their son Zane's story at Salvation Station ...

And when we weren't sharing stories or playing outside, we were eating!  Our executive chef came out on Saturday evening and once again treated us to a 5-course gourmet dinner, and it was amazing!

And, in the midst of all this activity, we never forgot the reasons why we were there ... to remember our precious children ...

... and to honor our Lord by living well while we're waiting to be reunited with them in Heaven one day.

Here's what one of our guests had to say after the weekend was over ...

"I have attended the Mom's retreat, my husband attended the Dad's retreat and we attended the Couple's retreat. I was very apprehensive, nervous, almost talked myself out of going, but persevered in going. It was by God's grace and mercy, I stepped out. So glad I did. I moved forward in my healing, lifted me spiritually, made some awesome friendships, found strength, and encouragement in EVERYONE! We are almost 3 years out and it was difficult for me. So glad I did not listen to the devil and let him rob me of joy and blessings I received. I highly recommend you attend one of these events."

Our next two WWW Parent Weekends are scheduled for November 14-16, 2014, and April 10-12, 2015.  Click here to for more information or to register.  Maybe you're not a parent who's lost a child ... but we would love for you to help us spread the word about these events and this ministry.  "Like" our While We're Waiting page on Facebook to stay informed about all of our upcoming events.  We would also be glad to come share with your church, Sunday School class, or civic group about While We're Waiting.  Click on the "Contact" us tab above to get in touch with us.  Most of all, you can pray for us as we seek God's wisdom and leadership in the growth of this ministry.  I know that many of you do, and we appreciate that more than we can say.  What a privilege it is to be a part of this wonderful ministry!

While We're Waiting Parents -- April 2014

Thoughtful Thursday -- Eagerly Waiting with Perseverance

In the infancy of the While We're Waiting, our board met with a ministry consultant to get some advice on how best to grow this fledgling ministry.  He had some great tips and ideas for us, and I think we benefited from most of his advice.  One of his thoughts, though, we were not too impressed with.

He said, "I think you should consider changing the name.  'While We're Waiting' sounds like you're kicked back in a recliner with your feet up, just passively waiting for your life to come to an end."

He didn't get it.  I mean, he really didn't get it at all.

You see, the While We're Waiting ministry is based on Romans 8:25, which says, "But if we hope for what we do not see, we eagerly wait for it with perseverance."

Yes, we are waiting ... but not passively, and definitely not with our feet propped up.  We are waiting eagerly, and with perseverance, for our hope to be fulfilled.  Hebrews 6:19 tells us that "We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure."  And what is that hope?  The hope of Heaven ... the hope of being reunited with our Savior and our children one day.  And because we have that firm and secure hope as our anchor, we can endure with perseverance the sufferings and sorrows of this world.

And we are waiting eagerly.  The Mirriam-Webster dictionary defines "eager" as  "feeling a strong and impatient desire to do something or for something."  What better definition could there be for the desire we have to be reunited with our precious children?

So, we're waiting, not in our recliners, but with our boots on the ground, eagerly persevering in doing the will of our Father until He calls us to join Him in Heaven.  What better way is there to honor both our Lord and our children while we're waiting?

"And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast." I Peter 5:10

Monday Mourning -- "Resurrection"?

So, have you seen ABC's new show called "Resurrection"?  I confess I have not seen a single episode, but the commercials for it have made me a bit ... uncomfortable.

The premise of the show is this ... Small-town families find their long-dead loved ones suddenly arriving, unchanged after decades, on their doorsteps.  Nearly 14 million people tuned in for the premiere episode, making it the highest Sunday drama debut for ABC since 2006.

There was a time when I probably would have thought that was an awesome concept for a show, and I just might have tuned in with great anticipation.

Not anymore.

Now, I think watching it would be akin to torture.

The first time I saw the commercial for this new series (and, oh my, the promotion for it has been relentless), it honestly left me a bit breathless.  The looks on the older couples' faces as they saw their still-8-year-old son Jacob for the first time after he died in a drowning accident 32 years earlier ...!  Yes, they're just actors, and cognitively I know that ... but, oh, what a tug in my heart!  And then, the actress sitting on a church pew (who looks to be about the age Hannah would be now) saying tearfully, "Did I really die?"

This is the fondest dream of every parent who has lost a child ... to be reunited with them here on earth.  To wrap our arms around that child's neck and hold on for all we're worth.  To feel their arms wrap around us and squeeze us back.  To breathe in their scent, to hear their voice, to see their smile, to just look into their eyes and be still.  And then, finally, to talk to them.  And talk and talk and talk.  To say, "Yes, you really died, but now you're back!  And I'm never going to let you go again!"

Sigh.

But that's not the way it works.  I will never see Hannah again here on this earth.  I won't hug her, hold her hand, hear her voice, or sit beside her on her bed and giggle with her again.  People just aren't "resurrected" here on this earth.

But thank God, that's not the end of the story.  I believe that because Hannah trusted Jesus here on earth, she already lives again ... in Heaven.  And as much as I'd like to see her again here on this earth (and believe me, I do!), an earthly resurrection can't compare with a heavenly one.

An earthly resurrection is only temporary.  At some point, we'd have to say good-bye again.  Either she would die, or I would die.  And because of the fact that we have sin natures, our relationship would not be perfect ... we'd have disagreements and misunderstandings, and we might even get angry with each other sometimes.  We'd have to deal with all that comes along with living in a fallen world ... illness, injustice, terrorism, pain, grief, hunger, loss ... the list goes on and on.

A heavenly resurrection is eternal.  We'll never have to say good-bye again.  Our sin natures will be destroyed, so our relationship will be perfect, unmarred by any type of strife.  And we will live in a perfect world ... one without tears, one where we'll worship our Savior with nothing to hinder us.

So will I be watching the TV show "Resurrection"?  Nope, not me.  Why waste my time longing for something that can never happen, and even if it did, would only be a dim shadow of the real resurrection?  I prefer to fix my mind on the great resurrection that is to come in the future, because that's where my real hope lies!

"Jesus said to her (Martha), 'I am the resurrection and the life.  Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he lives.'"  John 11:25

Thoughtful Thursday -- The Finish Line

I think that something we all wrestle with as parents who have lost children is the "Why" question.  Why did this have to happen to my child?  Why, when my son was serving the Lord, and his peers were not, was his life taken?  Why didn't God protect my daughter?  Why didn't God heal my son?  Why didn't God allow my daughter to live outside the womb?  Why?  Why?  Why?  This question is a cruel taskmaster.

On Monday, Brad and I attended a funeral where that “Why” question certainly seemed applicable.  This funeral was for a young man named Ben Crowley.  Ben was our sister-in-law’s brother.  He was a handsome guy, 38 years old, had a beautiful godly wife, and a baby girl on the way.  He was a rabid Auburn Tigers fan, and he loved the Lord.  He had overcome a lot in his life, including drug and alcohol addiction as a younger man.  He also was fighting a battle that had gone on for many years … a battle against mental illness.  And on the evening of March 20th, somewhere between 5:30 p.m., when he talked to his wife on the phone and told her he was cooking dinner for her, and 8:30 p.m., when she arrived home, he took his own life.

His family and friends were stunned and heartbroken.  How could this happen?  Ben was doing so well … He loved his wife, he was excited about his baby on the way, and he was making plans for the future.  Yet on that evening, his mental illness took over, and his earthly life ended.

His dad preached his funeral on Monday, and did a wonderful job of sharing who the real Ben was.  Anyone who came that day who did not know Ben left there feeling like they had “met” him.

One of the things his dad said really stuck with me.  He quoted 2 Timothy 4: 6-8 -- "For I am already being poured out as a drink offering, and the time of my departure has come. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that Day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing."

I have to confess, when he read that, I thought to myself, “But Ben didn’t finish the race.  He took his own life.”

But then, Ben’s dad said the same thing I had been thinking ... “When I read that, I thought to myself, ‘But Ben didn’t finish the race.  He took his own life.’  And he continued on, saying, "But then God reminded me of something … God is the one who draws the finish line.  God had drawn the finish line in Ben’s life on the evening of March 20th, and Ben reached it.”  He reminded us that God drew the finish line in His own Son's life after six hours on the cross.  Death by crucifixion usually took two or three days, but God determined that Jesus had suffered enough ... and He drew the finish line.

Wow!  God draws the finish line.  God drew the finish line in Ben's life, just as He drew the finish line in Hannah's life ... and they both finished the race that He had set out for them.

That doesn’t mean that we have to like the course of this race.  I would much preferred to have reached my finish line before Hannah did … I mean, isn’t that the way it’s supposed to be?  I know Ben's family feels the same way.

But sometimes God had a different plan for our children, and for us, as their parents.  And my job now is to continue to fight that good fight, to keep the faith, and to run that race.  And one day, when I receive my own crown of righteousness, Hannah will be there smiling her big bright smile, and saying, “That’s my Mom!”

Please keep Ben's mom and dad, his wife, his unborn daughter, his siblings, and his many friends in your prayers as they face the difficult days ahead.

Tell About It Tuesday -- While We're Waiting Weekend for Bereaved Dads

A couple of weeks ago, the While We're Waiting ministry hosted our fourth weekend retreat for bereaved dads.  This event was facilitated by my husband (Brad) and Larry Brown, and from everything I've heard, it was amazing!

For the first time, our WWW Weekend for Dads was held at Spring Valley Anglers Rod & Gun Club.  This is a beautiful retreat facility located on the limestone banks of Spavinaw Creek in northwest Arkansas.  Nine dads with children in Heaven, in addition to Brad and Larry, had the opportunity to do some fly fishing and skeet shooting in this beautiful setting.  They also spent a good bit of time sitting in comfy chairs around the cozy firepit, and got to enjoy a fabulous steak dinner prepared and served by a professional chef.  

And as they participated in these activities, they talked.  They talked about their kids who are now in Heaven, and the kids they still have here on earth.  They discussed how their grief has impacted their job performance, their spiritual lives, and their relationships with their wives and others.  Some of these men lost sons, and some lost daughters.  Their children's ages ranged from 5 years old to 38 years old. Three went to Heaven after battling cancer, three young men drowned, two were involved in car accidents, one was killed in action in Afghanistan, one was involved in a drug-related tragedy, and one was murdered.  

I am told that while there were certainly some tears over the course of the weekend as these dads shared their most painful experiences with each other, there was also a whole lot of laughter.  And why not?  Each of these dads had experienced a different type of loss ... but they all shared something in common ... a rock solid faith in Christ, and an assurance that they will see their dear children again one day.  And each one of these dads is committed to living well while he's waiting for that great reunion.  They understand that that is the best way to honor both their children and their Lord until that day comes.

Here are a few pictures from the weekend.  Fishing in the sparkling creek ...

Skeet shooting ...

Enjoying some good food ...

And soaking up the warmth of a good fire ...

All while remembering some great kids ...

Here's what a couple of the dads who attended had to say about the weekend ...

I had a wonderful time -- sharing with other dads who have lost their child.  Being able to hear their stories and learn how they are surviving and moving forward is very important.  This is a very important and needed resource for families walking this road.  ~Dustin's dad

Attended Dads' weekend in northwest Arkansas.  What a blessing to spend time with dads who truly understand.  ~Ryan's dad

We at While We're Waiting feel so humbled and privileged to have the opportunity to host events like this.  Will you please help us spread the word about this ministry?  We have another Dads' Weekend scheduled for October 10-12, 2014.  This one will be held at a different location in west central Arkansas ... Click here to read about one of our previous events there.  We also host weekend events for couples/singles and mini-retreats for moms.  Click here to go to our website and get more information or to register for any of these events.  You can also support us by praying for this ministry, and if you feel led to, you can help support us financially.  We do not charge for any of our retreats, and rely solely on donations to keep the ministry going.  You can make a donation on our website via Paypal ... just click here.  We are a 501(c)(3) organization, so all donations are tax-deductible.  

The WWW theme verse is Romans 8:25 -- "But if we hope for what we do not see, we eagerly wait for it with perseverance."  We are so thankful for the hope of Heaven, and while we're waiting, we pray that we will persevere eagerly!

Thoughtful Thursday -- He Understands

Last week, our Sunday School teacher shared the following illustration ...

There is a nine-year-old kid sitting at his desk in a third grade classroom.  Suddenly ... there is a puddle between his feet, and the front of his pants is wet.  He thinks his heart is going to stop because he cannot believe this has just happened.  It's never happened before, and he knows that when the boys find out, he will never hear the end of it.  And when the girls find out, they'll never speak to him again as long as he lives!

The boy puts his head down on his desk and prays, "Dear God, this is an emergency!  I need help now!  Five minutes from now, I'm dead meat!"

He looks up from his prayer, and here comes the teacher with a look in her eyes that says he has been discovered.  As the teacher is coming to snatch him up, a classmate named Susie is walking by carrying a goldfish bowl that is filled with water.  Susie trips in front of the teacher and inexplicably dumps the bowl in the boy's lap.  The boy pretends to be angry, but all the while is saying with great relief, "Thank you, Jesus!  Thank you, Jesus!"

Now, just as suddenly, he is the object of sympathy.  The teacher rushes him downstairs and gives him gym shorts to put on while his pants dry out.  All the children are on their hands and knees around his desk, cleaning up the mess.  The sympathy is wonderful!

The ridicule that should have been his was transferred to someone else ... Susie.

As the day progresses, the sympathy grows better and Susie's ridicule grows worse.  At the end of the day, they are waiting for the bus.  Susie has been shunned by the other children.  The boy walks over to Susie and says, "Susie, you did that on purpose, didn't you?"

Susie whispers back, "I wet my pants once, too."


What a perfect picture of what Jesus did for us on the cross!  He took our sin and our shame, and willingly transferred it to Himself.

And as if that wasn't enough, take a second and read Hebrews 4:15-16 ...

For we do not have a High Priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but One who was in all things tempted as we are, yet without sin.  Therefore, let us come boldly to the throne of grace, so that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need.

Just like Susie ... He understands!  He not only understands, He sympathizes with our weaknesses.

That means I can approach Him with confidence, even boldness, with my doubts, my struggles, my pain, my sorrows, my disappointments ... and my grief.  And He is there, freely passing out mercy and grace to all who ask.  What a comfort in the time of need!

Monday Mourning -- A Gift of Memories

Would you indulge me for just one more post about Hannah's five-year Heaven Day?

I really just have to share one more thing ... really, just one more.

You know, parents who have lost children (and I suppose anyone who has lost a loved one ... my only real experience with this is losing my daughter) live in dread of these kinds of dates.  I've actually named it ... I call it "The Tyranny of Dates."  You can't get away from them.  Just when you get through one -- your child's birthday, for example -- there's another one on the horizon.  Christmas, Mother's Day, the day she should have graduated from kindergarten or high school, the day he should have been born.  The calendar is relentless ... It never stops!

Now, I did learn pretty early on that the anticipation of the day is usually worse than the day itself.  Knowing that usually helps me in dealing with these days.  And this year, I was a bit distracted from the upcoming date by my dad's very unexpected open heart surgery (5 bypasses!) a week earlier.

I spent several days with my mom and dad as he dealt with numerous complications following his surgery.  Finally, he stabilized, and I was able to return home a couple of days before that dreaded date.

I knew this year was going to be different than any other, because I was going to be all alone.  My husband was in Phoenix, and Bethany was four hours away at the University of Arkansas.  I just really wasn't sure how the day was going to go.

I had decided a few days earlier to start out the day by making a post on Facebook asking people to share their memories of Hannah.  I almost talked myself out of it.  After all, Hannah was only a teenager when she died ... she didn't know that many people.  And besides, she was so quiet, a real homebody, a girl who would rather stay home with her family on Saturday nights than hang out with friends.  Would anybody really have any memories to share?  What if nobody wrote anything?

I decided to go ahead and post it anyway.  I knew that family members would write something, and maybe a few of her friends.  Here's what I wrote:

Five years ago today, our beautiful daughter and sister, Hannah Joy, went to Heaven after bravely battling brain cancer for a year. Would you mind giving our family a gift today? Would you take just a moment and share a memory you have of Hannah with us? We have so many wonderful memories with her, and it would really be a blessing to us to hear some of yours. Thank you so much!

I then went on about my day, most of which you know about if you've read my last few posts.  All through the day, I heard the notification chirps coming in from my phone.  A couple of times, I started to pick it up and look at the posts, but I would immediately tear up and have to put it down.  I had to lead the While We're Waiting support group meeting that evening, and I had to be able to hold myself together.  I knew if I read those posts, I would be done for the day.  So I decided to wait.

We had a great WWW meeting that night, and then I had the wonderful God-surprise of the wind chimes and the rock after I got home.  Once I had somewhat recovered from that awesome moment, I put on my pajama pants, curled up on the couch with some Kleenex, and opened up my laptop.  I was completely unprepared for what I found.

There were 90 comments on my post.

There were memories from relatives, family friends, former teachers, acquaintances, nurses, church leaders, peers, and a large people who had never even met her, but had been somehow touched by her life.  There were remembrances of her smile, her laugh, her "sweet spirit", her servant's heart, and her curly hair.  There were memories of her caring for younger children, bantering with her sister, playing Barbies, eating pizza, letting a friend copy her biology paper, helping in Vacation Bible School, and managing the high school basketball team.  And as much as I hate to rank one comment above the others, this one had to mean the most to me ...

Our daughter, Madelyn, began to ask questions about Jesus, eternal salvation and Heaven during Hannah's courageous battle. Hannah was a light for Christ during her dark days and Madelyn accepted Christ as her Savior on 2-23-09 because of Hannah's testimony. Hannah will always hold a special place in our family's heart! 

Y'all ... It just doesn't get any better than that.  That right there is what it's all about.

Would I have chosen for Hannah to battle cancer for a year and go to Heaven at the age of 17?  No.  Never.  If it were possible, would I turn back time to January 2008 and write a different ending for her story?  You betcha.

Would her life have had the impact it's had if things had been different?  I don't think so.

Is God's master plan better than mine?  Yes (somewhat grudgingly).

I think my role is to be thankful for the countless wonderful memories that I (and apparently many others) have of my girl, and to be grateful that God has chosen to use her in the way He has.

So, thank you, Lord.  And let me say a huge thank you to all of those who gave us the gift of your memories.  You blessed our family more than you could ever know.

Thoughtful Thursday -- The Rest of the Story

As promised, here's the continuation of my last post about Wind Chimes and Rocks.

Because as with any great story, there's more to be told.

First, though ... a couple of pictures so you can see how special these gifts really were.

The wind chimes hanging on the archway, just where I imagined them that morning ...

And the JOY rock on Hannah's windowsill, taking the place of the one I left on her grave that day ...

When I opened the gift bag that night and found these wonderful surprises, I sat right down at my computer and wrote my friend Christy a private message.  I was so excited, and I told her the whole story, including the fact that I just couldn't stop shaking my head about the way God had worked through her gifts.  With her permission, I'd like to share with you a little of what she said in reply.

Thank you for sharing that with me !!  As I was reading your message I too was shaking my head and saying WOW !!   That truly was a God thing.    As I said, I had remembered you saying that the next time we met would be 5 Years, well as it got closer I knew I wanted to give you something. I had looked for something on about 3 different occasions, not really having anything specific in mind but nothing just really jumped out at me.   Well I had to pick up a few things in Hot Springs on Monday and was a little short on time,    But I continued to look.   Well I found a couple of things, had them in my hand but for some reason put them back.  Well I then turned around and there was the chimes and the rock , as I picked them up I glanced at the time so I said ok I will just get these. It's the thought that really counts right.  When I got in the car to leave it hit me. I just bought Jill a "Rock".  And I kept imagining the look of "what is this" you would have when you received it and yes for the next 2 days, I really felt silly for giving you a rock.   But at the same time I had a peace about it.  Still, that's why when I handed you the gift, I said " I know this is not much but".   Wow, that is all I can say, except for praying and thanking Him for using me in such a way.   With a Rock and chimes none the less!!  I stand more and more amazed each day!! 

Here's the thing that's so cool to me.  Christy was prompted by God to do something for me, and she was obedient to that prompting ... even though she didn't know why she was doing what she was doing.  Not only that, but she even felt a little bit silly about it.  But she didn't let that stop her.  She did it anyway, and something that seemed like such a little thing (and maybe even a silly thing) to her, was absolutely huge to me.

We never know how our actions of obedience impact others.

Two other examples of this. A little over five years ago, a lady obeyed God's prompting and anonymously left a book at the desk of the hospice center where we were spending Hannah's last days. A small gift, and maybe one that she felt a little funny about giving since that book was about the loss of a baby (actually two babies) and here we were in a hospice center with a 17-year-old. Nonetheless, she was obedient, and ultimately, that gift led to the formation of While We're Waiting, our ministry to bereaved parents.  A small act of obedience with huge ramifications.

Let me leave you with my final example, and I share it with my friend Christy's permission.  Christy is the one who gave me the gifts pictured above, and Christy's 17-year-old son, Ryan, went to Heaven back in September.  Back when Ryan was little more than a toddler, their family was living their lives far from God, and were content with that lifestyle.  One day, their neighbor, an 11-year-old girl, came over to their house, handed them some tickets, and invited them to a "Heavens' Gates & Hell's Flames" drama taking place at their church.  They didn't really want to go, but they didn't want to disappoint this sweet little girl, so they did.  That night was a turning point in their lives as a family.  From that point on, they dedicated their lives to the Lord, became involved in church, and raised their son in a Christian home.  As a result, Ryan turned his life over to the Lord as a young child.

And today, Ryan is in Heaven with his Lord and Savior ... all due to an 11-year-old girl's obedience.

Don't ever disregard the prompting of the Holy Spirit.  The implications of a single act of obedience can have eternal ramifications.

Tell About It Tuesday -- Wind Chimes and Rocks

I have always been what I would call a realist.  I'm not a sentimentalist.  I'm not a person who sees a message from God in every rainbow or heart-shaped rock.  I never have been.

But sometimes, God smacks me upside the head with something (as we say in the south), and even I can't dismiss it as a coincidence or explain it away with logic.

Last Wednesday marked five years since our 17-year-old daughter, Hannah, went to Heaven after a year-long battle with brain cancer.  For the past four years, the three of us have made that anniversary a family day, taking off work and school, traveling to her grave (approximately 90 minutes away), and going out to eat at one of Hannah's favorite restaurants.

This year was different.  Brad was in Phoenix, traveling for work, and Bethany was at the U of A in Fayetteville, unable to skip class.  So it was just me on that day.

I knew ahead of time that I would be alone of that day, and I knew I needed to have a plan.  I decided that I would go to her grave and decorate it.  Now that may not seem like much to you ... but that is something I've never been able to do.  I've never been able to bring myself to shop for items to decorate my daughter's grave.  It was just too painful ... I couldn't do it.  But this year, I thought, "I can do this."

So Tuesday evening, I went to Hobby Lobby (my favorite store!) and did some shopping.  I picked out some "spring-y" things that made me feel happy.  And it was okay ... even kind of nice.  I actually enjoyed the shopping process.

Wednesday morning dawned clear and cold.  I got up, put my dog on her leash, and walked her out into the yard.  It was a beautiful morning, and I had a profound feeling of peace as I thought about the day.  As I looked around the yard, my eyes lit upon a landscaping archway we have in one of our flowerbeds.  And out of nowhere, a thought popped into my head.

"I would like to have some wind chimes to hang from that archway.  I think the sound of the wind blowing through them would remind me of Hannah."

I've never wanted wind chimes before.  To be honest, I'm really not even a big fan of wind chimes.  It was a completely random thought.  But at that moment, I decided that I would look for some wind chimes to hang from that archway.

I came back in and gathered my things to take to the cemetery.  On an impulse, I went into Hannah's room and picked up a decorative rock off her windowsill.  It had the word JOY on it, along with a mosaic dragonfly.  Since I was taking this giant step of decorating her grave, I wanted to include something with the word JOY on it.  I really didn't want to "give up" this particular rock, because it was one of the first JOY items I purchased after Hannah's death, but I knew it was a good, durable item I could place on her grave that would withstand outdoor conditions ... so I somewhat reluctantly placed it in my car with the other items.

It was an uneventful drive to Briggsville, and I had probably the best visit to Hannah's grave I've ever had.  I think I felt better having a "job" to do when I got there, and I got busy decorating as soon as I arrived.  I worked quickly, since it was 32 degrees outside with a stiff north wind!  I was pretty pleased with the results.

If you look in the lower right hand corner of the above picture, you can see the JOY rock I placed there.

I chose the bird to represent Bethany and her fiance', Brad Bird, who were unable to come themselves.

I came home after that, wrote my last blog post about the 14 Things, and prepared for that evening's While We're Waiting support group meeting.  I knew it would be an emotional evening for me, considering the significance of the day, and indeed it was.  

As our meeting came to a close, and we all prepared to leave, one of the sweet moms in our group discreetly handed me a gift bag, saying that she and her husband knew it was a special day for our family and that they had gotten us something.  "It's not much," she said, almost a little sheepishly.  I thanked her for it and told her I'd wait to open it until I got home.  I had had enough public displays of emotion for one night!

I arrived home a little while later, and walked into a dark, lonely house.  I flipped on a few lights, greeted my dog, and turned my attention to the little gift bag. I read the sweet card, which brought tears to my eyes, then lifted out the paper on top.  Inside were two items, each one well wrapped in tissue paper.  I picked up the first one and unwrapped it.

It was a set of wind chimes.  

My mouth literally dropped open.  One of my first thoughts that morning had been a wish for some wind chimes, and now, at the end of the day, here they were.

I almost forgot that there was still another item in that bag.  Still shaking my head over those wind chimes, I reached in and pulled it out.  It was a little heavier than the first item, and I had to unwrap several layers of tissue paper.  I couldn't help but exclaim out loud when I saw what it was.

It was a rock.

A JOY rock to replace the one I had put on Hannah's grave that morning.  

Y'all ... How does that even happen?  

Only God can do that.  Only God can know the deep desires of our heart ... the things that we cannot even articulate.  He knows just what we need to encourage us, even when we don't know what that is ourselves.  His timing could not be more perfect.  And I am humbled and awed to be the recipient of one (actually two) of his wonderful gifts.

"Before they call I will answer; while they are yet speaking I will hear."  Isaiah 65:24 (ESV)

To be continued on Thoughtful Thursday ...

14 Things I Wish I'd Known Five Years Ago

Today marks five years since Hannah drew her last earthly breath and stepped into the arms of Jesus.

I have to be honest and say that my immediate reaction at that moment was relief that she was no longer suffering from cancer.  But that relief was quickly swallowed up by grief ... overwhelming, nearly debilitating sorrow at the loss of my precious daughter.

In those raw early days of grief, I remember looking at other people who had lost children several years previously and wondering how on earth those people had made it.  I could not fathom making it through five weeks, much less five years.

And yet, here I am.

It still doesn't seem possible.

I am not the same person I was 1,826 days ago, nor will I ever be that person again.  And that's not all bad ... in fact, that's probably a really good thing.

God has done a lot of work in my life over the last five years ... work that needed to be done.  And, oh my, He's got a lot more to do.  But, if you'll bear with me, I'd like to share a few of the things I've learned over the last five years ... Things I wish I'd known from the beginning.

1.  The loss of a child is indescribably difficult.  It impacts every fiber of your being, and shakes you to your very core.  There are times (even now) when it seems unsurvivable.  BUT ... but ... it does, it really does, get better.  There are those who will tell you that it never gets better.  Do not believe them.  However, we must earnestly desire to get better, and actively take steps to make that happen.  We are not given a choice about having grief, but we do have a choice in how we grieve.

2.  Much of the battle on this journey is spiritual.  Actually, "much" may be the wrong word ... "all" is probably closer to the truth.  At the time when we are the most vulnerable, Satan is absolutely relentless.  He bashes us in the head again and again with "if onlys" and "what ifs".  He fills our minds with memories of horrific sights, sounds, and smells.  He causes us to question God's goodness and mercy.  For me, the best way to fight this battle is to recognize it for what it is ... spiritual warfare.  Whenever I get really down, it is always because I've allowed Satan to get a foothold in my mind.

3.  This is not a competition.  In those early days, I spent a lot of time wondering which was "worse" ... losing a child suddenly and not being able to say good-bye, or having the opportunity to say good-bye but being forced to watch your child suffer in horrific ways.  I wondered if it was "easier" if the child you lost was an infant, or maybe it was "easier" if he or she was an adult when they went to Heaven.  I wondered how my grief stacked against with that of others.  I've learned that it does not matter.  After talking to hundreds of bereaved parents over the past five years, I've found that even though our losses are all different, our pain is the same.  The loss of a child is heartrending, no matter the child's age or the circumstances of his or her death.

4.  There is no time limit on grief.  I used to be so ignorant.  I actually used to think people "got over" the death of a loved one within a couple of months ... a year at the very most.  I now know that one does not "get over" the death of a child ... they just learn how to live without them.  I will be "over" the loss of my child when I put my arms around her neck in Heaven.

5.  Pain is not wasted in God's economy.  God can take our pain and bring good from it.  I've learned that one of the best ways to ease my pain is to stop focusing inward and begin looking for ways to serve Him and others.  It could be something "big", like starting a ministry or a foundation in your child's memory ... or it could be something "smaller."  One sweet mom I know watches the obituaries for parents who lose children close to her son's age when he died, and writes them encouraging notes.  Believe me, this is not a "small" thing to those who receive these gifts of love from her.

6.  There is a difference between happiness and joy.  Happiness is dependent upon circumstances, and since the day Hannah was diagnosed with cancer just over six years ago, my circumstances have not been what I have wanted them to be.  Absolutely everything I do is tinged with sorrow to some degree, whether it's just going to work each day, celebrating a family birthday, or planning my younger daughter's wedding.  Hannah is not here, and that means there is sadness in my heart all the time.  But, I can still have joy in my life, because that is not dependent upon my circumstances.  Joy is unassailable, because it comes from my relationship with God.  Joy is that deep-down, rugged knowledge that God will one day make all things right, even a 17-year-old girl dying of cancer.

7.  I don't have to be strong all the time ... In fact, my greatest strength lies in weakness.  I am not strong enough to do this on my own.  I must allow myself to be weak and lean fully on Him.  That is the only way to walk this road.  2 Corinthians 2:9 -- "But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me."  As my dear friend Donna says, God tells us, "I want you to be strong, but you don't have to be stronger than me."

8.  C. S. Lewis once said, "No one ever told me that grief felt so much like fear."  In the early days of my grief, I felt very cavalier.  The thing I had feared most in life had happened ... What else was there to be afraid of?  As time has passed, I've begun to experience more fear.  I've met parents who have lost two, three, even four children.  If it happened to me once, why couldn't it happen again?  This fear could easily become paralyzing, even debilitating.  But, I've learned that I must give that fear to God, and put my loved ones in His hand.  I want to love having them more than I fear losing them.

9.  I have to remember that I am living in the temporary.  This world that seems so real to us now will dissolve in a moment someday.  I love these lines from the last book in the Narnia series, "The Last Battle" by C. S. Lewis,  "‘There was a real railway accident,’ said Aslan softly. ‘Your father and mother and all of you are – as you used to call it in the Shadowlands – dead. The term is over: the holidays have begun. The dream is over: this is the morning.’"  When this life in the Shadowlands (but a dream) is over, the holidays will truly begin!

10.  I also have to remember this ... My future with my daughter is going to be so much greater than my past with her.  What an amazing thought.

11.  I cannot put a question mark where God has put a period.  God put a period at the end of Hannah's earthly life on February 26, 2009.  I can question His wisdom in that all I want to (and believe me, I have) but the period is still there.  I cannot change that; and I don't believe He wants me to waste the life He has given me in arguing with Him.  The period has not yet been placed at the end of my earthly life, and there are so much better things I can be doing with my energy and my time.  God still has work for me to do here.

12.  Everyone says stupid things to people who have lost children ... even other people who have lost children (I know I've said dumb things myself)!  I can choose to replay the hurtful things people have said over and over in my mind -- along with the snarky comebacks I wish I'd hit them with -- or I can choose to extend grace to those folks and move forward.  There is only one perfect Comforter ... the rest of us fall far short.

13.  God is sovereign.  God knew the number of Hannah's days before she was born (Psalm 139:16).  There is not a thing we could have done to extend her life by even a single day.  It does no good to question whether we should have gone to a different hospital or tried a different treatment.  She lived exactly the number of days God had ordained for her.

14.  Finally, I've learned that a short life is not an incomplete life.  I've talked to parents whose child never took a breath outside of the womb whose lives have been changed for eternity by that brief life.  Hannah's life may have been short, but it was definitely not incomplete.  In the early months following her death, we heard quite often from people whose lives had been touched by hers ... even a number of salvations directly due to her testimony.  As time has gone on, we've heard those kinds of reports less and less.  But may I share something with you?  A little less than a month ago, out of the blue, we received an email from an old high school friend of my husband's.  Brad had not heard from this friend in years; in fact, we did not even know he had followed Hannah's story.  Here's what he wrote in his email:

Brad,

Just a quick note to tell you what a blessing your journey has been to me, my patients and students that rotate through my facility. I made copies of every email you sent out over the years of Hannah's battle and kept them in a bound folder. [The emails he's referring to are available on this blog. Look in the right hand column and click on "Hannah's Story in Emails."]

Each night as the emails came I would read them to my daughter and son and we as a family would pray for Hannah and your family. I will never forget the day in Feb that I sat down and shared the email that Hannah had lost her battle with this disease. We all cried because of your transparency allowed us to be vested in your journey.

Even today I make all our nursing, x-ray, and oncology students to read the collection of emails at the start of their clinical rotation and it helps remind them we are not treating diseases...we are treating beautiful people like Hannah.

 My continued prayers for you guys. God bless and thank you for allowing others to see the beauty that continues to be Hannah's legacy. 

Ah ... to know that my daughter is remembered, and that her life is still having an impact on others ... there is no greater gift that can be given to a parent who's lost a child.


Five years.  It's a long time.  But it's five years closer to Home ... and that's just fine with me.  Even so, come Lord Jesus.

Tell About It Tuesday -- A Unique Opportunity for Bereaved Dads

While We're Waiting offers three types of retreats for bereaved parents ... a weekend-long retreat for singles/couples, one day mini-retreats for Moms, and weekend-long retreats just for Dads.  

Since WWW began in early 2011, we've hosted six parents' weekends and 14 (I think) mini-retreats for Moms ... but only three weekends for Dads.  We've found that Dads are just a little bit more hesitant to commit to something like this.  I don't know ... maybe they think it's going to be a "spill your guts" kind of thing all weekend long.  No man wants to do that ... and I don't think too many women do either.  

No, when the guys get together, they spend time doing guy stuff ... riding four wheelers, fishing, grilling steaks, etc.  Sure, they talk about their kids and their experiences along the road of grief, and for many of them, this is something they've really never had an opportunity to do with another man, especially a man who actually understands.

Our Dads' weekends are usually held at my husband's family's farm in a very rural area of Yell County, Arkansas.  The guys stay in an older farmhouse with several bedrooms, where they have the run of hundreds of acres of fields and forest land.  They always have a great time, but the accommodations, while nice, are nothing fancy.  You can click here and here to read about the last two Dads' weekends which were held there.  

Here's where the unique opportunity part comes in.  While We're Waiting has been offered the use of the Spring Valley Anglers Rod & Gun Club Lodge for one of our Dads' weekends in March.  This facility is located in Siloam Springs, Arkansas.  This place is amazing ... click here to take a look at their website.  We are so excited to have the opportunity to host an event for Dads here.  And with the location in northwest Arkansas, it's more easily accessible to more people.  It's even close to an airport, in case anyone would need to fly in for the weekend.

The weekend is scheduled for March 14-16, 2014.  The guys never have a set starting time on Friday evening, because everyone gets off work at different times, but they will gather Friday evening, and will wrap up the weekend on Sunday morning.  Guys, if you've thought about coming to a Dads' weekend in the past, but just haven't done it ... here's your chance.  And ladies, if your husband needs to come to something like this ... use your feminine wiles to get him there.  I can promise that every Dad who comes will be glad he did.  

There's no cost for the weekend.  Of course, we always accept donations if anyone would like to give something to support the ministry, but it is not necessary.  To register, just click on the "Register for a While We're Waiting" tab above.  Spots are limited, so don't delay.  It's going to be a great weekend.  I leave you with what one of our dads said after the last Dads' weekend ...

 "I want to thank you for this weekend.  I know so much more will come to me as I process these moments over the next couple of weeks, months, and years to come.  But, these are the immediate take-aways that I will leave with today:  1) I'm not alone in this walk, 2) the opportunity to bring my son alive in the open discussions and just saying his name aloud again, and 3) ways to move forward in my life but, more importantly, my faith. Thanks again and God bless you."

Thoughtful Thursday -- Don't Be a Knothead

The blog has been quiet for awhile, hasn't it?  To be perfectly honest, I've just been kind of "dry" lately.  I'm not really sure why.  Maybe because I've been very, very busy lately.  (I thought life was going to slow down when Bethany went to college ... I'm still waiting for that to happen.)  Maybe because I've found myself consumed by all of the sorrow I've been seeing on Facebook lately.  There are just too many children (and adults) with cancer.  

Last night was our While We're Waiting support group meeting, and I needed a devotional to share.  Like I said, I've been dry lately, and I just didn't know what to share with the group.  So yesterday morning, I sat down at the computer, and God finally brought to my mind what I needed to share ... and as always, it's something I myself needed to hear.

We spent the evening talking about "ruminating."

There are basically two kinds of ruminating.  I've got a visual aid to illustrate one of the meanings ... 

Meet Knothead.

Knothead is a resident of the petting zoo at Family Farm, where we hold our While We're Waiting Retreats for Bereaved Parents.  He spends his days lying around and ruminating ... which the dictionary says means "to bring up and chew again what has already been chewed and swallowed."  Pretty disgusting, right?

But there's another kind of ruminating ... something that I find myself doing a lot.

According to Wikipedia, rumination is defined as "the compulsively focused attention on the symptoms of one's distress, and on its possible causes and consequences, as opposed to its solutions.  Rumination is similar to worry, except rumination focuses on bad feelings and experiences from the past, whereas worry is concerned with potential bad events in the future.

Maybe you’re like me , and you find yourself reliving the last moments of your child’s life over and over.  Or maybe you weren’t with him or her when she died, and you find yourself going through the circumstances that led to the death again and again, trying to somehow create a different outcome.  Maybe you’ve been beating yourself up over the “If only’s”. 

Basically, it’s not that different from what Knothead spends his day doing.  You’re heaving that stuff back up and chewing it again and again.  Gross, but true.

Your relationship with your spouse and surviving children has been affected, your performance at work or at home is not what it should be, and your relationship with God is really suffering.  You can’t sleep, because every time you close your eyes, the rumination begins again. Or for me, it's often when I'm driving alone in the car.

Satan loves it when we ruminate.  It keeps us frozen where we are.  It keeps us from moving forward in our lives and serving God effectively.

So how do we stop ruminating?

Wouldn’t it be nice if we could just flip a switch and shut it off?  Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way.

It takes time, and it takes supernatural healing from God.  It takes an honest and earnest desire to move forward in our lives.  We must pray and read God’s word, even when we don’t feel like it.  We must ask Him to replace our ruminations on those awful thoughts with the truth of His Word. 

Philippians 4:6-8 says, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.  Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable – if anything is excellent or praiseworthy – think about such things.” 

Easier said than done, certainly, but so important.  I believe that God will honor even our most feeble efforts to obey His Word, and give us His peace over time. 

Then we’ll be ready to move forward in His service while we’re waiting to be reunited with our children one day. 

So what's the bottom line?

Don't be a Knothead.  :-)

Ten on the Tenth -- New Year's Resolutions for Bereaved Parents

I've never really been much of a New Year's resolution person.  No particular reason ... I'm just not.

But for 2014, I'm thinking about making some.  The fact that it's already the tenth day of the year should indicate the fact that I've really spent some time thinking about these things.  And I believe that these are resolutions that all those of us who have children in Heaven might want to consider adopting as our own.

In just over a month from now, Hannah will have been in Heaven for five years.  It doesn't seem possible, but it's true.  And God has been faithful to gently carry our family through many painful days and months since that time.  These have been the most difficult five years of my life, but He has used them to teach me things that I don't think I could have learned any other way.

So, in light of that, I present ten New Year's Resolutions for Bereaved Parents:

1.  I resolve to ... Look forward to the future and not spend time agonizing over the "If Onlys".  These things are in the past, they cannot be changed, and it is a waste of my time and energy to be consumed by them.  These thoughts draw me away from doing the things God wants me to be doing today.  And I believe that it dishonors both my child and my Lord when I remain stuck in the past and refuse to move forward.

2.  I resolve to ... Extend grace to those who inadvertently add to my pain by making well-meaning, but inappropriate comments.  And I refuse to replay those hurtful words over and over in my mind, thinking about all the things I could have, should have said, that would have put them in their place.  I will remember that I, too, have said unintentionally hurtful things in my own clumsy attempts to comfort others.

3.  I resolve to ... Extend grace to those who avoid me, or who are clearly uncomfortable talking to me about my child.  They're just afraid.  They don't want to add to my pain, so it's easier just to steer clear of me.  I will remember that I have been that person, too.

4.  I resolve to ... Help others understand what I need from them.  If I need to talk about my child, I'll explain to them that it helps me to talk about her, even if it does make me cry.  If I need to be alone for awhile, I'll ask them to respect my solitude.  If I just don't have the energy for chit-chat and smiles, I'll explain to them why.  If I need to celebrate holidays in a different way, I'll discuss it with them ahead of time.  If I don't know what I need (which happens a lot!), I'll even tell them that.

 5.   I resolve to ... Be patient with myself.  Grief takes time ... much more time than I ever realized before.  I will give myself all the time I need, and not try to rush it (even though others may try to rush me along).  I will be gentle and kind to myself and the fellow grievers in my household.

6.  I resolve to ... Find some joy in every day.  There's a difference between happiness and joy.  Happiness is dependent upon circumstances, and happiness can be pretty scarce sometimes.  But joy is God-given, and it is possible to still have joy even in the worst of circumstances.  And it doesn't have to come from big things.  It can be found in little things ... dew on a spiderweb, the sight of your favorite pet greeting you at your doorway, the sparkle of sunshine on the water, the feeling of pulling on a pair of new warm socks on a cold day.  I resolve to look for and appreciate those things.

7.  I resolve to ... Be grateful for the 17 1/2 years I had with Hannah.  I would rather have had her and lost her than to never have had her in my life at all.  And when I consider the fact that I haven't really "lost" her, but in fact, I will spend eternity with her ... the gratitude just overflows.

8.  I resolve to ... Recognize and rebuff the attacks of Satan.  He knows that I'm vulnerable right now, and he would like nothing more than to destroy my witness and to tear my family apart.  He wants me to believe his lies -- that I'm somehow responsible for my child's death; that God is punishing me for some sin; that if only I had had more faith or if I had prayed more, my child would still be here today.  I refuse to allow Satan to have a foothold in my life.

9.  I resolve to ... Depend upon what I know to be true about God, and not on what my feelings are telling me.  So much of the time, my feelings and emotions are completely out of control and unpredictable.  I can laugh and cry and be angry and happy all at the same time.  I can be fine one minute, and sobbing the next.  And I may not even know what triggered the meltdown.  My feelings will lie to me (See #8), but God's Word always tells me the truth.  To keep this resolution, I must spend time with Him, and be intentional in prayer and Bible study.

10.  I resolve to ... Remember that I can do none of these things on my own.  I have no power within myself to keep even one of these resolutions.  It helps to talk to other moms and dads who understand what it's like to miss your child so desperately.  It's great to know that I'm not alone in this thing ..
. that I'm not the only one who struggles with these things.  But even more than having the support of other bereaved parents, it is critical that I lean on my Heavenly Father for strength.  Because it is only in Him that I can find the strength to keep these resolutions.

"And He has said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.' Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. Therefore I am well content with weaknesses, with insults, with distresses, with persecutions, with difficulties, for Christ’s sake; for when I am weak, then I am strong."  II Corinthians 12: 9-11 (NASB)

A Future Greater Than the Past

I remember how I felt that first New Year's Days after Hannah went to Heaven.

To be perfectly honest ... it was awful.

While part of me was relieved to slam the door on 2009, and all the pain and grief it contained, the thought of living through an entire 365 days without Hannah was mind-boggling.  I could not imagine how I was going to survive even that first day of January, much less a whole year.  And as I considered the fact that that year would be followed by another year, and then another, and another ... It was almost more than I could handle.

In fact, it was more than I could handle alone.  It's only been by God's help that I've survived 2010, 2011, 2012, and now 2013. And it is only through His strength that I can look forward with joyful anticipation to 2014.

A few days ago, I posted an excerpt from a devotional by Max Lucado on our While We're Waiting Facebook page.  This post was far and away the most "liked" comment we've ever had on that page.  Here is part of what I posted ...

In May of 2008, Steven Curtis Chapman and his wife, Mary Beth lost their five-year-old daughter in an automobile accident.  They were deluged by messages of kindness.  One in particular gave Steven strength.   It was from a pastor friend who’d lost his son in an auto accident. “Remember, your future with your daughter will be greater than your past with her.”

For me, personally, that may be the single most comforting thing I've read in the past five years.  What a great reminder of what I (and what all of us who know Jesus Christ as our Savior) have to look forward to!

And in the meantime, while we're waiting for that future, it helps to remember the words of Lamentations 3:22-23 ...  "It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness."

His compassion will not fail us ... We will not be consumed ... His mercies are new every morning ... and His faithfulness is great.