7 Years…

     …that we’re on this journey of grief from burying a child. I didn’t know a person could experience so much pain and still live. I’m thinking the only thing worse than burying a child- is not knowing where your child is because of abduction or some other horrible circumstance. I know where Jennie is and I know I will see her again some day. I can’t imagine the horror of not knowing where your child is or what they might be going through. I am confident though if that happened, God would supply the grace and courage to live through it because He has been with me every moment since that awful night seven years ago. Sure there have been and still are times, I question “Where are you God? What are You doing?” It’s so easy in the overwhelming pain to lose sight of God and who He is and what He’s doing. Most of the time I can’t even figure out if there’s any good thing happening but I’ve become so much more accepting and okay with the mystery surrounding God. We can spend our whole lives learning to know God and not even get close to understanding, knowing all there is to know.

Crocuses in Jennie’s Memory Garden

     One thing I’ve learned is- grieving is hard work and super exhausting. I was reminded of that again when my dad died two months ago. It shed a new light on everything seven years ago; not only was our grief so raw and fresh and so totally unexpected, my body was also trying to heal from massive injuries. No wonder I could barely put one foot in front of another.

      When walking beside someone grieving remember, you aren’t there to get us back on track, we’re charting a whole new path, one that’s never been walked before. It’s scary and confusing and we feel so very lost. Everything we knew and loved has been significantly changed and the closer the relationship with the person who died, the deeper the pain, the more it affects everything. We’re in a whole new territory and not a thing makes any sense to us. We have questions that have no answers. We’re feeling emotions we didn’t know existed and a lot of times it seems that they contradict each other. We feel sadness and joy, pain and peace. It often is a very chaotic time, in many ways and on many levels.

     Also don’t be too quick to quote verses, promises or sayings, etc. What we need is to have our pain heard and validated. If someone opens up and gives you a glimpse into their heart, into their pain; take off your shoes, you’re on holy ground. It’s when our pain is heard and held by your heart that our heart has a chance to take a breath, to hear a whisper from God’s heart. I know. I know hearing and holding someone’s pain is hard, uncomfortable; we aren’t asking you to fix anything. We know you can’t, just hold up the boulder of pain, confusion and anger that’s been pressing on us so we can take a deep breath. Most of us have heard enough verses and sayings throughout our life that the Holy Spirit can remind us of those truths but it’s awfully hard to hear the truth through pain that’s not expressed and validated or given honor to, that’s not cared for. Uncared for pain often turns into angry bitterness and distrust.

     And please don’t be afraid of ours tears. They are not sign of weakness or anything bad. They are rather God’s treasure; He collects them in a bottle. We all collect things we treasure. Again we know you can’t fix our grief or make it better but giving us a tissue and a shoulder to cry on tells us you care and that helps us heal. Just remember healing is a life-long journey and we’ll need lots of tissues and/or shoulders. Being witness to someone’s tears is uncomfortable, disconcerting because we know deep down we can’t change or fix the reason for their tears. We come face to face with our limitations which require us to be humble and ask for Divine help. We want to believe we’re capable of doing life mostly on our own. Yet Jesus wept when He came to Lazarus’ tomb and He knew He was bringing Lazarus back to life. I believe He wept to show Mary and Martha how much He loved and cared for them. He heard and validated their pain and grief with His tears. And we want to be followers of Jesus, so let’s step into the uncomfortable and cry with those that are crying.

     This song Not Right Now by Jason Gray gives some good advice how to care for a grieving person even if the grief is ‘older’ because even though it’s been 7 years the smoke is pretty thick at times…

  While I wait for the smoke to clear
 You don't even have to speak
 Just sit with me in the ashes here
 And together we can pray for peace
 To the One acquainted with our grief… 

Jennie Lynn

In Loving Memory

This is the last picture we have of you taken four days before our accident. If you’d be here, if life would have gone according to my plans, you would be finishing high school and we’d be planning a graduation. And you probably would have become an amazing cook. You might even be planning to go to a culinary school. But instead we’re aching with longing to see you and your lovely smile, to hear your giggle, to talk with you, to just be with you. I cry thinking of all that could/should have been but isn’t. And honestly there’s a twinge of anger about how unfair life feels, but when I think of where you are and Who you’re with I am comforted, I have peace. I know one day we will be together again enjoying the delights of heaven. And until then I have Papa God to carry me, to dance with me in the never ending grief journey that comes along with burying my child. I loved you the moment I knew you were a little life growing inside me and I love you still so I grieve.

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

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

6 Years Ago…

…we closed the casket on the beautiful face of our young daughter

never to see it again except in pictures, in our memories…

never to hear her girlish giggle again except in our memories….

They told us- as time goes on it’ll change…it’ll get better…it won’t hurt quite as much… Well, maybe six years isn’t long enough for it to change, to get better…but it’s been like forever since I’ve heard her asking, “Will you play a game with me?” “Can we have a tea party?” And the reality is- – I’ll never, ever hear that from her again. The reality for me at this time is- the longer it’s been, the deeper the ache, the stronger the pain as I process the death of my daughter and the multitude of other losses that are connected to our accident and her death. I ask again for the millionth time, “Why, God?” along with dozens of other questions.

This song “Why God?” by Austin French says it so well…
“Give me a faith stronger than I have
I need to know when it hurts this bad
That you hold my heart when it breaks
And I’m not alone in this place.
That’s why God, I need you
Why God, I run to Your arms
Over and over again
It’s, why God, I cling to Your love
And hold on for dear life
And I find you are right by my side
Always right by my side
Even here in the why…God.”

Yet as I continue to ask these questions that have no earthly answer, I realize- – I truly don’t want answers to my questions- -cause answers won’t take away the loss or ease the ache or pain. What I really want is to take my aching, hurting heart to Papa God and experience His strong arms around me as I struggle to once again choose to trust, to choose to believe that in the mystery of His Sovereignty that He is a good God. The reality is my questions hard as they are, as many as they are and as often as I ask them- -they are not a threat to God. He knows who He is and what He’s about and the more I experience Papa God the less threatening my questions feel to me. The deeper my connection to Papa- – the better I know who I am, whose I am and what I’m about. If I lose that connection, that ability to bring my questions, pain, losses and aches, I get so lost and confused. I become very vulnerable to lies Satan wants me to believe and live out of. I’ve also learned that my emotions or feelings are a pretty good indication of what is going on in my heart and it’s a good idea to talk to Papa about them or they will end up being dictators instead of indicators. And I for sure don’t want to allow my emotions to dictate the way I live life. Reacting in anger, distrust, fear or anxiety, I’ve done that too much and too often in my life already. I want my heart to listen for Papa’s gentle voice and to respond to it. I love the song “Remind Me You’re Here” by Jason Gray. It touches my heart deeply and I realize I want nothing more than to experience Papa’s arms around me, guiding my steps, my life as I continue to dance through the storm.

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)

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.

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.

Jennie Lynn

In Loving Memory

Two smiling eyes stopped smiling
a golden heart stood still.
We don’t know why God took you
and I guess we never will.

He only lent you to us
then came and took you away.
I miss and love you so much
and my heart’s heavy today.

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

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

(Poem from all great quotes website)

Merry Christmas, Jennie!

Heaven is your home

As I weep and grieve

I remember the love and joy

That together we did weave.

Heaven is your home

Though it breaks my heart

It will not be forever

That we remain apart.

Heaven is your home

And when my time is done

I know that I will see you there

Shining brighter than the sun.

~ Tanya Lord ~ 2014 ~

My favorite Christmas song this year is “Heaven Everywhere” by Francesca Battistelli. I have always loved the Christmas season, although the past several Christmases have felt more painful than joyful yet there was still something about Christmas I was longing for and I think this song explains that longing- “there’s a little bit of heaven everywhere”. And somehow Christmas makes heaven seem just a bit closer, which makes you feel closer to us. Another song I love is “The Sweetest Gift” by Craig Aven the chorus of this song says it just right. And it’s knowing where you and Who you are with that makes all the hard, painful days or nights easier to live through. I thank God for that hope, that faith and His love.

You’re with the Son of God
You’re with the Prince of Peace
You’re with the One we’re celebrating
And that thought amazes me
Sometimes I still break down
Grieving that we’re apart
But the sweetest gift is knowing where you are
You’re with the Son of God

 

 

 

Happy 15th Birthday, Jennie!

I know that you’re in a better place
But I’m still here missing you today

It isn’t easy to say goodbye
But I know it’s only for a little while
Run up ahead and I will catch up
‘Cause I’m gonna see you when tomorrow comes
On the other side
On the other side

Some days that’s the only thing that gets us through…knowing we will meet again on the other side. I just wish it didn’t have to hurt so much or take so  long to see your smiling face. I hope you have a wonderful heavenly birthday.