Six months ago…

a very beautiful thing happened in our family.

My handsome son

and his lovely bride

were married.

The theme of their wedding was “Jesus- the Light of the World”

JoAnn was one of their candle ladies.

Jana was a program attendant.

In loving memory of Jennie

Jodi and Janessa were gift receivers.

My wonderful children. I love this picture and at the same time I hate this picture. There is one beautiful face missing, Jennie. In every family picture we take I end up finding an empty spot that should have Jennie in it. And as lovely as the wedding and the whole day was there was an indescribable pain right beside the joy and excitement I was feeling watching a dream of my son’s being fulfilled. And I again questioned, “why?” “What was God thinking? to allow the death of our daughter…” It’s one thing I’ll never understand. But just as Jesus is the Light of the world, He is also my Light and Hope. If it weren’t for that unshakable knowing deep in my heart that Jennie is with my Papa God and Jesus and one day I will be with her again, I just couldn’t live through this pain. And They also send me the most awesome messages. I remember the day I was driving to help Stephanie with wedding preparations, I was asking God, “Does Jennie know that Justin is getting married and how does she feel about it?” And just then I saw the vehicle right in front of me had the letters JVE on it’s license plate. You see ever since the accident when the girls and I see a plate with the letter J in it, we come up with a phrase of what Jennie might be doing in heaven. We have come up with some very interesting messages. And the message I heard that day was “Jennie’s Very Excited”. And I knew that Papa God cared about all the mixed up emotions I was experiencing being excited for my son while hurting with missing my daughter. And I knew He was right there dancing in the storm with me.

A Season of Winter

I sat down to write what was on my mind but my paper looked like this.

But as I looked in my heart I realized it is more like this.

My heart is so full of so many emotions and questions that I feel almost overwhelmed and the words don’t come out in neat sensible sentences. I read somewhere once upon a time that our hearts go through seasons much like the earth does. And right now I feel like I’m in the winter, my heart appears empty, cold and dead; but I have the confidence that in reality God is doing some amazing things in it. I just don’t understand what or how. I haven’t figured out what God is up to. It feels more like chaos than something neat and orderly. It feels more ugly and messy than beautiful. But can I be okay with being in the winter season? What does it look like to dance in the winter? Resting in the belief that God is GOOD and He is a healer and redeemer and He finishes what He starts. And the amazing wonderful thing is- He doesn’t force us to finish, He invites us and draws us with His overwhelming Love. He accepts where we are on our journey, willing to walk beside us if only our hearts our open and sensitive enough to experience His precious presence.

5 Years…

…ago I buried part of me and have been on a journey of grief ever since. I’ve learned a few things on my grief journey. One thing is that grieving is unique to each person and also there is no wrong way to grieve. Before our accident we had been to an Anger and Sexual Abuse Seminar and they talked about grieving the losses associated with abuse and showed us a neat little diagram. I searched google and found one very similar.

It resonated with me then as I felt very much in a valley filled with anger, pain, depression and sadness. I had been on a healing journey from my abuse for years and maybe before I had been encouraged to grieve the losses from abuse but this time the dots started connecting and the diagram made sense and I had my eyes set on getting out of the valley back to meaningful life. Well then our accident happened and I looked at that clip art again but it didn’t help, maybe the way out seemed too hard to climb and I was so tired, so weak. Life simply wasn’t a neat line through the valley of grief. Then I found these diagrams.

And while it felt somewhat more how I experienced grieving, emotions gone wild and crazy and all over the place. But it still didn’t connect with my heart. I just couldn’t climb out of the valley and mostly I think because it didn’t feel like I was really in a valley but I couldn’t put words to what I was feeling. Then this year in school the girls wanted to study about volcanoes and we learned about Mt St. Helens and the volcano that erupted on it. We  saw many different pictures of the beautiful majestic mountain before the volcano erupted. We saw pictures of the eruption, the huge cloud of smoke and debris, the flattened mountain, the destruction. We saw the change in the landscape surrounding the mountain. And that’s when it hit me. That’s what my hearts feels like.

Here’s a picture of beautiful Mt. St. Helens before the volcano.

Here is a picture after the volcano.

See that gaping hole, the flattened landscape, the ugly, the destruction, the chaos. And my heart just connected with that. My life will never be the same. There’s a gaping hole in my heart and the life I knew and loved feels like it’s destroyed, flattened out, never gonna change and most certainly never going to be what it was before.

I will never hear Jennie’s giggle, never see her smile, never feel her hand in mine or get a hug from her. Jana and I have recovered as much as possible from all our injuries barring a miracle. We’ve been told to focus on learning to live life well rather hoping Jana or I will continue getting better. There are continuing losses we are becoming more aware of as life continues and climbing out of the valley of grief seems so totally impossible, mostly I think because it feels like a flattened landscape rather than a deep dark tunnel. My dear husband tells me to live well we must grieve well. And I’m realizing and actually becoming okay with the fact that I won’t get out of the journey of grief; it will always be part of my ongoing story. Because I am living in a world I was not created to live in; we were created for life in a beautiful garden but instead we’re living in a world of brokenness and chaos.  I’m feeling a deep peace in accepting my altered life-scape. I’ve been reading the book A Sacred Sorrow by Michael Card which focuses on “learning the lost language of lament”. He takes  us through Job, David, Jeremiah and Jesus’ lives showing how they grieved and lamented. He writes “Lament is the path that takes us to the place where we discover that there is no complete answer to pain and suffering, only Presence. The language of lament gives a meaningful form to our grief by providing a vocabulary for our suffering and then offering it to God as worship. Our questions and complaints will never find individual answers (even as Job’s questions were never fully answered). The only answer is the dangerous, disturbing, comforting Presence, which is the true answer to all our questions and hopes.”

And years later at Mt. St. Helens there is new life and beauty; yes there are still scars and evidence left from the volcano eruption. And while we have scars and still broken places, too, I’m convinced Papa God is doing some beautiful work in my heart and in my family. Admittedly I see a whole lot more mess and ugly than I see beauty but occasionally I see glimpses of beauty. I think most times I’m too close to the mess that I don’t see the beauty, but I’m choosing to keep dancing with Papa God in the altered landscape my life has become and to continue worshiping at the altar of lament.

 

(the pictures and clip-art I used on this post I found using a google search)

Jennie Lynn

In Loving Memory…

A Place for You

My child, I keep a place for you
where no one else can see.
I have this gift nobody has
the bond between you and me.

At times I cannot feel you here
and that pain won’t go away.
But when I search my place for you
you’re with me every day.

My child, you’re not lost,
you don’t need to be found.
I’ve got you here, in my heart
where we’re forever bound.

By Michele Meleen

Your presence we miss, Your memory we treasure,
Loving you always, Forgetting you never,

Mom and Dad, JoAnn, Justin & Stephanie, Jana, Jodi & Janessa

Walking in a Winter Wonderland

Last night with the snow softly fluttering down my young romantic heart wanted to go walking so I begged my hubby dear to go with me. And bless his dear heart he got dressed up even though he was all ready for a haircut and we went walking through the city. There’s something about the quiet beauty of sparkling glittering falling snowflakes that touches my heart; I chose to be open and vulnerable and in the midst of the beauty I put words to some ugly stuff that had been triggered- once again from my abuse. Will it ever end?? I’m learning that putting words to my feelings somehow breaks the power the trigger has. It’s been a long hard journey but last night was one time we got it right. We were able to process and talk through the trigger in a healthy way. I felt heard although not exactly understood but I wasn’t expecting that. How can he understand me when at times I don’t understand me? 😏 I was so proud of us. I wish it would happen like this every time. And then in the midst of our heavy conversation, I hear tires sliding, a bump and crunch and seconds later more tires sliding and another bump and crunch. Even though everyone got out and was walking around; it amazes me how something so minor can create such a reaction in my body and heart and cause flashbacks of our accident. So we talked about our accident and the changes it gave us- once again before going back to our previous conversation. It seems we can never get away from or leave behind that one horrific night. It touches everything I do, it’s like a bad dream I can’t wake up from.

I have a love/hate relationship with snow. I love snow- it’s new fallen whiteness, the sparkle, the glitter, the softness of the flakes floating down. Sitting inside with a warm cup of coffee, watching the children playing outside. Snow is beautiful.

I hate snow/ice- it causes horrific accidents that change your life forever. It is cold and damp which increases the pain levels. It creates hard work for someone- the van and sidewalk need cleaned off. Snow is ugly.

And I wonder is beauty always in companionship with ugly? Sorta like pain and pleasure? I found it interesting that when we got back from our stroll, I felt more alive and stronger than I had all day. Is it when my heart sees and acknowledges the ugly that my heart can also be more aware of the beauty? When I allow my heart to feel the pain, it is then my heart is alive to feel the pleasure? To be willing to walk in the ugly cold snow so that I can experience the beautiful glittery snow. To be willing to walk the scary path of openness and vulnerability so my heart can experience the beauty of connection and care. And there are times, even though I chose to be open and vulnerable; I have also experienced more pain instead of care and connection. But just as our deepest pain often comes from relationships, our deepest healing also comes from relationships. And my most important relationship is my relationship with Papa God and what my heart knows and believes about Him. So I will continue choosing to dance in the ugly with Him for He has promised to make everything beautiful in His time.

Happy 16th Birthday, Jennie!

We still love you so we still miss you.

Like your butterfly birthday cake, you’re in our hearts and you flutter through our memories causing our hearts to swell with pain and tears leak out of our eyes or with joy and laughter bubbles out. Either way never a day goes by that I don’t think about you and wonder what you’re doing in heaven and who you’re talking to. I wish you were here with us.

The beautiful flowers Dad got for us in honor of your 16th birthday.

Waiting…

JoAnn had another brain CT scan and doctor appointment and the message is still the same as the past 3 visits. “Nothing changed. Come back in 6 months.” And on one hand that sounds like fairly good news. I mean at least it’s not getting worse- the fluid level isn’t increasing… And at least she doesn’t need surgery… But on the other hand all the risks are still there, the most worrisome to me is the risk of seizures and all the issues that come along with that. So we’re still waiting and watching…wondering…

Waiting, waiting, waiting, seems like that’s all my life is about right now. It feels like I’ve been put “on hold” and I’m really very tired of waiting…

Waiting for the attorney to get all the paperwork done….

Waiting for the oven to sell…

Waiting for the headaches to go away…

Waiting for the pain to lessen…

Waiting for the “to do” list to get done…

Waiting for the longings in my heart to be met….

Waiting for the million questions I have, get answers…

Waiting to see Jennie again…

How do I keep my heart open, soft and inviting when the temptation is very real to put on the tough girl act and pull myself together? I mean if I would have just prayed more or oftener or better then surely God would have made the fluid less or even took it away completely. Or maybe if I read and studied the Bible more, something miraculous would have happened. How do I stay vulnerable and authentic when the temptation is to make it about me trying to control life, to make life work? If I wouldn’t be impatient and snap at the girls while doing school, then surely I’d be good enough and God would bless the desires of my heart. Or maybe if I was more self-disciplined and didn’t indulge my taste buds off of my “good for the brain” eating plan then He would honor and bless all that discipline with less physical pain, maybe even, no pain at all and lots of energy to wipe out that “to do” list. If I could somehow just do life the right way, do the right thing…

  But is my heart aware of what is actually happening? I think Satan brings those questions, those temptations and at the core of it all, is asking me the same thing he asked Eve…Is God good? Is He against me instead of for me? Satan wants me to make it about me, about me being in control and if I do, say or act just right, God will do the honorable thing and bless me and my efforts. But what if it isn’t about me at all? What if it’s all about God getting glory and honor through all of this? What if it’s about staying vulnerable and real with God and my heart and becoming aware of God and knowing Him on a deeper level than before? What if through telling my story, my struggle it encourages someone to continue trusting God? What if it’s about being more aware of how passionately God loves me and is longing for a relationship with me and in the waiting God is making beauty out of dust and ashes? What if Papa God is more concerned about my heart and what is in it than fixing my world or keeping my waiting at a minimum? According to His Word, “What you say flows from what is in your heart.” And “Guard your heart above all else, for it determines the course of your life.” I told my friend I don’t think I’m dancing too well in this storm and she reminded me that when learning new dance steps sometimes we stumble, even step on each other’s toes but it’s a process of learning, of continuing to try. And it brought to my memory this summer when we went to Landis Valley Museum for their Civil War Days. One of the programs they had was “Recreation in the Civil War” and dancing is one of the things they did. The dance teacher invited the public to join them in learning some of the dance steps. She showed everyone how to do the steps but it was very easy to see the difference between the dancing group and those from the public who were doing it probably for the first time. The one little person I enjoyed watching, he was thoroughly enjoying it but was dancing all over the place, not staying in the proper line-up and once ran right into his partner. And I can’t help but wonder “Does God want me to be okay with where I am, maybe even enjoy where I am right now because He is with me? Does He want me to dance all over the place not really knowing what I am doing and run right into Him, trusting that He will lead me to the next step at the right time?” So I wonder if He isn’t working on a new dance step and is asking me to trust Him, to rest in His love and care while waiting, remembering how gently He held me and cared for me in the hospital.

Beauty in the Making

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

These pictures depict how it seems my life is right now: foggy, messy, chaos, unclear, uncertainty, fear along with lots of questions.

Just as I knew the ocean was somewhere in that fog (I could hear it), I know in my heart Papa God is right here beside me even though I feel lost in the fog of broken dreams, the messiness of hurting hearts, the chaos of learning to live and love well. And my heart cries, “Are you there? Where are you, Papa God? Why aren’t You doing something?”

And in the storm I hear the quiet reassuring Voice, “I am here. I am working. Just as it took your daughters several days of cutting, gluing and messiness to make something beautiful and precious; it takes time and care to make beauty out of pain and brokenness. The good work that I have begun, I will complete.” So I am choosing to rest in the clutter, in the fog, choosing to trust the Man who gave His life for me, surrendering to the beauty He is making.

 

 

Children, Trauma, Grief

It’s been awhile since I posted a blog post; my goal when we started this blog was to try to post once a month. One of the articles I read when researching about blogging said not to focus so much on blogging that you forget to live real life and that is why I haven’t posted for a while and this post is pretty much what we’re living out these days. It would seem after 4 years that we’d feel like we have more answers or fewer questions. Or have a better understanding or feel more together, more victorious than it at times appears to me but maybe victory looks different in trauma and grief.

    We’re still asked questions that have no answers, “Why did Jennie have to die?”

Sure, I can give a medically correct answer, “Her injuries were too bad, too big for her body to survive.”

“But isn’t God a big God? Why didn’t He do something?!?”

“Oh, honey, I don’t know, I don’t understand either. It does feel like God has let us down, doesn’t it? But the truth is God is just as sad and broken-hearted as we are. He hurts because we hurt.” We’ve had many similar conversations the past weeks, months, years… It’s been good, even though it’s been very painful, for my heart to have these conversations. The death of my child made me question everything I believed, everything I thought I knew about God. It was a crisis of my faith. It made me question; “What/who is the most important thing? What is the eternal value of doing what I’m doing? And with the heavy responsibility of bringing up our children – well, the pat answers, the clichés didn’t work anymore; we live out of our hearts, not our brains, so it’s what we know in our hearts, what we believe at the heart level that we live out in our life. Sometimes we aren’t aware of what our hearts our actually believing until a crisis happens in our lives and we’re left with what our hearts know and have experienced. And we’ll only be able to pass on to our children what we know, believe in our heart.

      Some things we’ve learned about trauma and grief over the years. Trauma is any negative event that produces distress; it can be physical and/or emotional. Trauma can cause children to revert to younger behavior, such as wetting themselves even though they are potty trained, throwing a temper tantrum or crying a lot, thumb-sucking, baby-talking. It causes them to become anxious, fearful and upset, at times having nightmares or affecting their ability to concentrate with learning. Children also recreate the trauma in their play, one of our girls would lie on the floor and play with toy cars and have accident after accident where people were flying out of their cars and dying. I was horrified at first but then I realized it was one way she was trying to understand, make sense of the tragedy that shattered her young world. Trauma in young children affects their brains in very real ways but if they are well-connected emotionally in a safe secure way their brains handle trauma differently than if they don’t feel safe and secure. Any type of trauma makes a child question, “Is my world safe?” And living in an insecure, unsafe world can actually rewire a brain making childhood trauma a difficult journey.

     Children and teens grieve so differently that we as adults. Sometimes it shows up as misbehavior, anger- especially at God and parents (They should have kept my world safe and didn’t), fear- sometimes irrational because world they knew no longer feels secure. We were encouraged to not spank our children in that first year after the death of Jennie. Yes, they need disciplined but most of their problematic behaviors came out of a heart filled with pain, insecurity and unsettledness. We were advised by our grief counselors to hold our child tightly till they have calmed down; and then tucking their head under our chin, against our chest and read their favorite story books for 15-30 minutes. Then talk about their behavior, about their feelings and actions. I don’t know or totally understand the science or psychology behind this but we have done this so often and it really works. Four years later, how we do it looks a bit different but we still read to our children and do story time very regularly and interestingly enough our new home school evaluator told me reading to your children often and lots is one of the most important things you can do for them. She said the relationship built while reading to them is the foundation on which the rest of their education is built. We also need to help our children put words to their feelings, to what is happening in their hearts and to let them know they are not alone. I feel a lot of the same feelings and have lots of questions too. We need to model grieving well. Where do we show them to go with and in our pain- to Jesus or to eating, electronics, emotionally shutting down or withdrawing?

     We’re also going through a “grief-share” book for children. It is called Grief Care- A Children’s Grief Ministry- Helping Children Heal From Loss in Their Life written by Wanda Miller and Elvera Miller. It has stories of children who had loved ones die and how they felt, questions they had, feelings they felt, etc and it helps our child realize they are not alone, others have felt the same feelings and asked some of the same questions they do. It helps them put words to their feelings. It gives an opportunity to think about, to explore, to talk about what’s going on in their heart and mine too.

     So maybe we are living in victory after all because we’re exploring our hearts, being vulnerable to ask questions, allowing our hearts to feel the pain, the longings we have, being honest with each other. Living in victory is not that I don’t experience pain, its knowing where to go with that pain and inviting my child to go with me to Papa God with our pain. Maybe victory is choosing to dance in the storm and knowing God is right there dancing with me.

4 Years…

ago yesterday, Jennie was buried. This song by Steven Curtis Chapman is just so beautiful and puts words to some of what we’ve felt the last four years.

We wait with hope
And we ache with hope
We hold on with hope
We let go with hope. 

And I’m so thankful to Papa God for bringing that hope to us through His Son Jesus. Because of the cross, because of Easter we have HOPE! There have been some deep, deep struggles for me in this journey and just this week I was asked “Where is Jesus as you ache and long to see Jennie again? Don’t you think He just might be right there aching with you?” And I realized again God feels the same things we feel; we are created in His image to have emotions and to feel things, so there is no condemnation in my experiencing the ache, the hurt, the longing I feel when I think of Jennie and what could have been but isn’t. All Papa longs for is for me to turn to Him and allow Him to carry me through these moments, to allow Him to be my comfort in the sadness. So I’ll keep waiting, keep aching, keep hold on and letting go…because of the hope I have in Jesus.