Grief

Train Ticket

I remember reading The Hiding Place (the story of Corrie Ten Boom) when I was in my late twenties. That book was powerful. I remember thinking, “This woman spent the first half of her life – just normal, and then her life turned upside down.” And then I thought, “I wonder if that will be my story – 40 or so years of a normal, uneventful life and then tragedy strikes.” Your life gets sliced in two. In my case, it’s “before the accident” and “after the accident.”

My next thought was, “She had no idea. All of that time spent with her family in everyday life, and she had no idea that she would watch her sister die in a concentration camp, live to tell the tale, and encourage the world with her story. She had no idea…” Which leads me to the second powerful lesson I learned from this book…

When Corrie was a young girl, she feared her dad dying. As she voiced her fear to her father, he said, (and I’m paraphrasing from memory…) “Corrie, when we travel together on the train, when do I give you your train ticket?” And Corrie replied, “Right before I get on the train.” And her dad said, “Exactly Corrie. And so it will be with your Heavenly Father. He will give you the strength you need to face life’s trials just when you need it – not before…  Do not fear the future Corrie.”

And so here I am… needing another train ticket from God. He’s given me so many over these last months. And tomorrow when I wake up, I’ll ask for another. Because, I’m in the other half of my life…  the “after the accident” part. And I pray that our story brings encouragement to a small portion of the world. For His glory. Goodnight :-)

Goodness

Anne’s self awareness is continuing to improve. And as a result, I feel like she’s sad a lot…

“I’m not good at anything Mommy.”
“I’m sorry I’m such a problem, Mommy.”
“God doesn’t love me, Mommy.”

Imagine how hard it would be to see your brother and sister run, laugh and play… without you. Especially when she was literally in the middle of their play before the accident. But Canon and Kate show Anne tremendous compassion. They are the first to encourage her when she becomes discouraged, and there’s nothing more wonderful than seeing your children encourage one another!

Kate just gave a “good report” about how well Anne did at the pool today… And then Canon piped in describing how great Anne did at speech therapy. I know God is bringing good out of our story… and it is especially encouraging to see His character so evident in my children!

So thankful :-)

Bad Theology

It’s been a while since I’ve written – mainly because I’ve been extra busy and sad. I’ve been wrestling with why I’ve been so sad, and I think it has something to do with bad theology.

Theology is simply what you believe about God. So lately, I’ve been thinking that God is not working on our behalf, or that we’re not important to him anymore, or that he doesn’t really care about us… Crazy right? How in the world could I think such untrue thoughts… After how He’s cared for us this past year… Not to mention that on every page of the Bible is a love letter to me, His child, and to Anne, one of the “least of these.”

Anne struggles too. She often says… “Why did God make my life harder?” In my worst moments, I’ll think… “Why did God make my life harder?” Self pity is the drug that leads to despair. I think this is the other reason for my sadness. Self-pity. And self pity thrives on bad theology!

I’m thankful that God has led me through depression before Anne’s accident. It was the deep realization of God’s goodness that brought me out of depression. Because of that journey, I know God is good. Now that’s some good theology!!

If God’s goodness is the anecdote to bad theology, what is the anecdote to self-pity? Gratefulness. So I’ve been trying to practice gratefulness. Thank you Jesus that she is alive. Thank you Jesus that Anne can stand on her right foot. Thank you for Anne’s smile. Thank you for providing the means to pay for therapy. Thank you for caring for us. Thank you. Thank you for these circumstances that press us more deeply into You. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

I love words!

This past Sunday, I sang in our church’s ensemble. We sang a paraphrased version of Psalm 42 set to an Appalachian folk melody. It was beautiful. Way too high for me to sing well, but beautiful:-) One of the members of the ensemble noted that two words were flipped in the third verse. As I studied the text, I disagreed with him and we started a discussion that continued on and off throughout the morning (and that we both relished).

See what you think. Here’s the text… (emphasis mine)

As longs the hart for flowing streams
So longs my soul for You, O God;
My soul does thirst for the living God.
When shall I come to see Your face?

My tears have fed me day and night
While men have said, “Where is your God?”
But I recall as my soul pours dry
The days of praise within Your house.

Why do I mourn and toil within,
When is it mine to hope in God?
I shall again sing praise to Him,
He is my help, He is my God.

My friend thought the text should read: “Why do I mourn and toil within, when it is mine to hope in God?” In other words, “Why do I mourn when my hope is in this amazing God?” His view is theologically sound… But I agreed with the text as written. The Psalmist asks two questions… “Why do I mourn and toil within? When will I be able to hope in God again?” He encourages himself with the truth that he “shall again sing praise to Him, He is my help, He is my God.”

I fought back tears as I thought about this text. I know how it feels to mourn and toil and wonder if I will ever have hope again. I know how it feels to encourage myself with the truth that this season of grief will pass and I will again sing praise to Him, because He is my help and my God. I know (like so many others) all. too. well.

What’s interesting is the portion of Psalm 42 this text is based on… Check this out:

Why are you cast down, O my soul,
and why are you in turmoil within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,
my salvation and my God (Psalm 42:11).

I would suggest that neither of our interpretations is correct! The Psalmist (David) is indeed mourning, but he doesn’t ask when he will be able to hope in God again, and he doesn’t claim to already have hope in God. No, he tells himself to hope in God because He is his salvation! A subtle difference, but so important.

My friend’s interpretation focused more on God’s character and failed to give adequate weight to the psalmist’s mourning. My interpretation was too focused on the toil within. David got it right. His soul is downcast. What is the answer? God (period).

I love words!

Neuroamazing

I was talking to Eric the other night about a thought God has given me… First a little background :-)

I’ve always been fascinated by the brain – from as early as I can remember, I wanted to grow up to be a brain scientist (that would be a neurologist, but I didn’t know that word back then!) Anyway, the hook for me was the mystery of it all. And after all the technical and scientific progress we’ve experienced since my childhood, the brain still remains a mystery to the medical community.

I know this is going to sound crazy, but… before the accident, I would climb the stairs to Anne’s darkened room, make my way to her sleeping form, kneel beside her bed and thank God for her brain. Sometimes, I would even put my forehead against hers – just to drink in what I perceived as the awesomeness of her brain. She was so complex, so deeply emotional, fiercely intuitive… Now she is simple…. so very simple.

I was crying out to God about how much I missed Anne… Why her brain, Lord? Her brain – it was beautiful; it was amazing, and now it is… even more amazing… If you look at Anne’s MRI, it is dismal. Severe, diffuse brain damage… diffuse meaning everywhere. Yet she is able to reason, laugh and spontaneously say, “I love you, Mommy.” Anne’s brain is a miracle, and a testimony to the Master Creator. It was like God was saying to me… “You can still marvel, Kathryn.” As Anne regains function, it’s like a layer of the mystery is peeled away, and I get to see a little of how He knits together His masterpiece.  Anne’s brain is neuroamazing :-)

One week and counting…

April 13th is one week away. I’m not doing very well as I approach that day… Basically, I’m going into mole-mode – where I just want to bury myself in a tunnel and pretend like the rest of the world doesn’t exist. My poor children – it’s all I can do just to keep the house running these days.

But that’s grief. It’s very familiar to me, so I’m not panicking. The laundry is in piles now, but I’ll come out of it eventually and catch up :-) And somehow (by God’s grace) I look back at the end of each day and see that dinner got fixed, the house is semi-neat and the kids have clean clothes. There’s even a little energy left for tickles and crafts – that’s all God.

April 13th represents two very different realities for me. 1st – it’s the day that God saved Anne’s life! After reading through all the medical records from that day – it’s a miracle she survived. But 2nd – that day represents the end of the “old” Anne. Brain injury patients are never the same after their injuries… Some might think that she is like her old self – just with a disabled body. No, her entire personality is different – wonderful – just different.

So, that day represents death and life to me. And right now, I just don’t want to think about any of it. You could pray for me. That would be nice :-)

Lost dreams

I miss the freedom of having healthy, independent, well-behaved children. I’ve been so sad lately. so. very. sad.

Next week is spring break. Last year during spring break, I took the kids to Anniston, AL to visit my cousin. It was my very first road trip alone with the kids… since they were all potty trained and old enough to buckle themselves into their car seats by themselves, I thought this would be the beginning of lots of road trips. We had a blast in Anniston. My cousin lives in a big, old house. We spent hours playing hide-n-seek and sardines. Here’s a (blurry) pic of my cousin and us “squished” in a shower while we’re playing sardines :-)

Playing Sardines 4-10-10

Back when my kids were younger, I used to dream of the day when they were all at least 4 years old. Four = independence and much more freedom to do things like… fun road trips!

Three days after we got home from Anniston, the accident happened… and then Kate turned four. We had her birthday party at the hospital.

Lost dreams are just that… dreams. God has different plans for our family. I believe that I’ll be able to take fun road trips with my kids – I’ll just have to wait a little bit longer :-)

One year ago…

3-13-10

…Anne was practicing cheerleading moves in our living room. We had battled through food sensitivity issues, anger and behavior issues and hyper-sensitivity issues. Everyone outside our family could not believe that Anne was anything but the quiet, perfect little angel she showed to the outside world. But Anne had turned the corner on all of her “issues.” She was becoming that perfect little angel at home too. She would obey with a good attitude. She loved to help me with all of the household chores – especially cleaning and cooking. She was intelligent, artistic and sensitive – and a bit bossy. But hey, nobody’s perfect :-)

Now, I am dealing with all of those old issues. Her seizure medication is making her tired and irritable. She gets so angry when she doesn’t get her way – especially at me. She bites, hits, pulls my hair and likes to call me “stupid mommy” for the sole reason that we don’t allow the “s” word in our house. She is making progress, but it’s oh so slow. At night, my mind races through strategy after strategy to help Anne. Be it nutrition, or therapy goals or reading strategies, I have tons of ideas, but not enough time to implement them. It all leads me to feel overwhelmed and discouraged.

And God just seems hidden. It’s scriptural for God to be hidden sometimes. He’s hidden through most of Job. And when He reveals himself, Job is left shaken and repentant. Even though He’s hidden, that doesn’t mean He’s absent or aloof. I choose to believe that He has a plan for Anne and our family. We might be in a dark part of the journey, but it won’t be dark forever. He’ll give us light, just when we need it the most. In the interim, we must wait and take each step by faith. Faith in God’s good character. Faith in God’s sovereign hand. Faith in God’s tender mercies. Faith in His love for each one of us, and for Anne.

The days leading up to 4/13 will be difficult for me. One side of me hates that day. I hate what it’s done to Anne and our family. But the other side of me knows that God intends good to come out of it. God’s word demonstrates repetitively how He brings good out of the broken. I pray He does that for Anne  …and for me.

Please pray:

  1. That we will find the right medication to control Anne’s seizures – without negative side effects;
  2. That we would not feel overwhelmed or discouraged and find comfort in God despite our circumstances, and
  3. That God would help Anne to make progress in her walking, reading & writing.

Thank you! -kathryn

Upside-down-ness…

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the upside-down-ness of the Kingdom of God.

I remember back when I was a very young Christian and working in a Christian bookstore. The owner of the store was a grandfather and had been walking with Jesus for a very long time. He was so learned and wise that most of his conversations involved answering questions about the bible from customers, friends or fellow church members. I would stand at the door of his office and listen to these conversations – hoping to glean wisdom or understanding. A lot of his answers to others centered on the Kingdom of God. This concept was so new, and so abstract that I understood very little of what he said.

Now, I find myself thinking more and more about the Kingdom. Everything about it is upside down… Death brings life; the humble are exalted; the weak are strong. I could go on and on. Continue reading →

A deposit… of things to come

I was just outside playing basketball against Canon and Kate. I was guarding Canon, and Canon yells, “Down low, Kate – go low.” Canon and I turn around to see Kate kneeling down “low” to the ground. We both burst out laughing. For you basketball newbies, “Go low” means go toward the goal and be ready for the ball. We were playing while Eric was inside putting Anne to bed. (And now Eric is playing basketball with Canon while I stay inside with Anne…)

This is just one example of how the dynamics have changed within our family. Because Anne gets so tired in the evenings AND because of her disability… Canon and Kate are together alot.

In the beginning, this was difficult because Canon projected his grief onto Kate. There was lots of bickering. Now that Canon understands the true source of his grief, he has prayed for his relationship with Kate to improve – (which is AMAZING. My jaw almost hit the floor when I heard him praying for that!)

The other day Canon said, “God has changed my heart towards Kate. I really like playing with her now.” It’s true. They have so much fun together!

Even though their relationship is wonderful, and brings me much joy… lately I’ve been more aware of Anne’s absence in their play – which has made me sad.

Last night, Anne had an extra boost of energy, so she was able to stay up later with Canon and Kate. Instead of two kids playing, it was three. They were all wrestling and tickling each other on the living room floor. There were lots of squeals and laughter.

As I watched the THREE of them playing, I felt especially aware that this was God’s gift to me – a deposit, if you will – of things to come.

It is so hard to accept this new life God has given us. I’m tired of feeling sad. I just want to submit and accept and move on. I still feel like God’s hand is pressing me down into grief – like I have more work to do – more wrestling. It WILL end, and God will help us to submit and rest – all in His timing.

We covet your prayers…

  1.  for comfort and rest for Anne – that she would know God’s love for her
  2. for perseverance for Anne – and for all of us :-)
  3. that we could find joy in her current recovery and trust God for her future (instead of worrying about it).
  4. And for God to continue His healing work in Anne!

THANK YOU! -kathryn