Category Archives: Family

For Susan

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(I wrote this for my daughter Susan and then read it at my son-in-law’s funeral after he passed away recently at age 40 from Covid-19.)

I’ve been thinking a lot about love and what it looks like in a family, in this family.  There are many ways to express love, but these are some things that came to mind.

Love looks like a husband and daddy who would sacrifice by working long hours, sometimes weeks away from his family, so that he could provide a good living for them.  I know Chris didn’t like to spend so much time away, but he was willing to do whatever was needed to support them.

Once when we were talking about spiritual things, Chris told me about his grandparents.  He said whenever he went to their house, his mawmaw would always have a meal for him and a discussion about the Lord, without fail. It was one of his fondest memories.  Love looks like that.

But the expression of love that touches me the most is the way my daughter walked with her husband through his journey of illness and ultimately death. Although she was afraid and hurting deeply herself, her prayer was that Chris would not feel alone, would not be afraid, and would not feel pain.  

God answers prayers like that.  Susan had the gift of three days and three nights with Chris in ICU after being isolated from him for weeks, only able to see him through the ICU window.  The first night, Friday, he was awake all night, and he was in her words “high maintenance.” He only wanted her presence with him.  He couldn’t speak but only mouth the words because of his trach, but he talked to her all night. She said she would always be thankful for it because he slept most of the time after that, opening his eyes only once on Saturday night and mouthing the words, “Why me?”

Sunday night, right before he passed away, as the monitor showed his blood pressure dropping rapidly, the ICU staff rushed in and told her if she had anything to say, to say it then.  She spoke to him, and his eyes opened just a bit, and he looked at her.  She told him that she loved him, not to be scared, that he was going to see his dad and his pawpaw.  She told him not to worry, that she would take good care of the children, and in a blink of the eye, they would all be together again.  With each statement she spoke, he nodded that he understood. And then Chris was in the arms of Jesus, having heard in his last moments Susan’s voice, the most precious sound to him.

I would like to say to my daughter, “Susan, you have walked through this trial well.  I am in awe of your strength and how you put your own pain aside, desperately wanting Chris to feel love and comfort.  This is what love looks like.  When we love in this way, we touch the Divine. The days ahead won’t be easy, but the same God who carried you through this hard journey will be faithful to be with you. He will give you the grace to walk through them, one day at a time.  God has already seen this day, and He still has a plan for your family.  This I know.  God’s love never fails.”

Never Alone

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My son and my younger daughter discovered what no child should have to find.  While driving home from out of town one hot August morning in 2007, I heard the crying and the confusion over the phone.  Surely this was a dream, a nightmare, not reality!  My son begged me to pull over on the side of the interstate as he broke the news that my former husband had died.

These are the thoughts that come as I remember:

Sleeping all together on the floor of the living room that night, not willing to be separated from one another even for a minute.

A slide show that told the story of my family: the births of my children, the school activities, birthdays, Christmases, beach vacations, high school graduations—a treasure of precious memories.

A casket in front of the church, my family sitting behind a black curtain for privacy.

A good friend leading me through the purchasing of a headstone—researching prices, driving me to the monument company.  God helping me to choose the inscription, “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise.”

My son visiting the gravesite for the first time since the funeral and then coming home and cutting a tendon in his hand by opening a jar that shattered.  Being with him through surgery and rehab.

A few weeks later my younger daughter escorted down the aisle by her brother at her wedding.  My stepping in to give her away.  Happiness and grief merged into one.

My older daughter showing up at my house with her three-year-old child and only a backpack, fleeing an abusive marriage.  Taking charge like a mother bear to pursue legal action to protect her and my granddaughter.  Another good friend shielding my family in her home, as we didn’t know what the repercussions would be.

Selling the home where we had been a family.  Moving out and going back for a final clean-up.  One last look at the backyard, still seeing where the garden would always be, hearing the voices of my children playing somewhere in a memory.

Three years later, three marriages in one year—my son, my daughter, and me!

Finally, being able to exhale.  But with the next year came the trauma of my daughter-in-law’s miscarriage at eleven weeks.  A few months later, my daughter’s devastating miscarriage at exactly the same stage.

But God restores!   Ten beautiful, healthy babies have been born to our family since then!

Taking care of my mother in the last year of her life as she was ravaged by Alzheimer’s.  The privilege of sitting with her through her last night.  The holy moment of witnessing her last breath, knowing she was now at peace in the presence of the Lord.

It has now been 13 years since the beginning of this story.  With joy and thankfulness, I have seen all of my children established in happy marriages with beautiful children.  I’ve been married for ten years to the man I had longed for, the one whom the Lord brought to me when I asked Him to choose.  God has written a new script for us that He continues to make known with each passing year.

I am brought to my knees in tears when I think of the grace that carried me through those hard years.  I am awed and humbled by the presence and power of Christ in my life.  A friend asked me once what I had learned from this journey, and I had only these three words: “God is faithful.”  We were never alone.

Last week I published the post “Finding True North” which says that when you have lost your compass, it may be that God is leading you on a new path. As I look back over the last 13 years, I see many twists and turns along new paths, major life events that I didn’t write about in the above post. We endured a financial crisis as we were trusting the Lord for how we would survive in the ministry He had called us to. The Lord interrupted us in our life in Arkansas and directed us to move to Texas where we lived for over four years. Then just as abruptly, He led us to move back. With each event, it was Jesus, our “true north,” that enveloped us in His grace and gave us the courage to continue forward. Our story continues to be written, as does yours. But no matter what we are facing, God is with us and will be faithful to see us through, even when we cannot see the way ourselves.

He Himself has said, I will never leave you nor forsake you.” Hebrews 13:5

God’s Original Design

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(This was my original post in May of 2013 and is first in a series of three in which I process my mother’s death and its impact on my identity.)

Back in my early days of court reporting, some 25 years ago, there were no laser printers. The paper I printed on had two carbon copies attached. After the job was printed, I had to tear the pages apart and separate the copies. The original copy was crisp and legible, the next copy was fair, but the last copy would always be a little faint. I had to be careful not to smudge the copies with ink from the carbon paper as I separated the sheets.

God doesn’t make copies; he only makes originals. But I have tried and tried and prayed and prayed for God to make me into someone that I think I should be, someone that is acceptable to him, to my husband, to my family, and others. It has taken a lot of effort, and it hasn’t worked. I am tired, so tired.

One week ago, my mother passed away. Losing your mother is a profound experience, a life passage. It doesn’t matter that she had late-stage Alzheimer’s and was 82 years old. When I am still and quiet, I still see her taking her last breath. I’m afraid one day I will forget that, and I don’t ever want to forget it. It’s as though I will lose part of her if I lose that memory. It was a holy moment, a very humbling moment–holy because I know she was passing into the arms of Jesus; humbling because it was a reminder that I will be there too one day. Life on this earth really does come to an end.

So now I am evaluating my life. What do I really want? I know I want to be me, the one God thought up before the creation of the world, the one he knit together in my mother’s womb, the one he knows so intimately. I’m afraid life will take over too soon, and I’ll forget what this feels like, to have a choice. I do have a choice. I don’t want to be a smudged or faint copy of someone else or someone that I think I need to be. I want to be God’s original, and I know there is only one way to find out who the real “me” is.

Father, you say in your Word that we love because you first loved us (I John 4:19). Help me to receive your love and to love you with all that I am. I want to sit at your feet and listen. It is only then that I can know who I am, for you are the only one who can tell me.

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. Psalm 139:13-14

When Time Stands Still

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There are moments that exist just as they are, in the present with no other thoughts, no other voices.  Just that moment.  I had that experience one night when I was babysitting my then eleven-month-old granddaughter, Myla Grace.  I had the delightful task of feeding her supper, giving her a bath, and rocking her to sleep with her bottle.  Myla Grace is a highly sensitive child.  It was months before she would let any of the rest of the family hold her, even her daddy.  So it was very special when she started “taking” to her Nana.

In the rocking chair with Myla that night, I softly sang the songs I had sung to my own babies and some of my other grandchildren.  She watched me wide-eyed as she sucked on her bottle.  I’m not a good singer, but that didn’t matter to Myla.  Her eyes grew heavy, and slowly the sucking stopped.  As I pulled the bottle out of her mouth, she opened her eyes widely and looked at me, studying my face.  And then it happened.  I smiled at that precious baby girl, and she broke into a huge smile back.  No words, only quiet.  Two sets of eyes locked together, two smiles as if a huge secret was being shared.  At that moment nothing else existed.

I was deeply impacted by Ann Voskamp’s book, One Thousand Gifts.  And I’m naming for the second time around one thousand things I’m thankful for, writing them down in my journal a few at a time, day by day.   It used to be that I thought a gratitude list was only for things like family, health, and material provision.  Now I understand that it’s being present and noticing all the graces God gives throughout our day-to-day lives.  The Word says “In all things give thanks, for this is the will of God for us in Christ Jesus,” I Thessalonians 5:18.  In noticing how he shows his love for us, we are loving him back.

Having our eyes open to see God’s graces requires intentionality.  It requires the “want to.”  It requires slowing down and being present in the moment.  If we set our hearts toward Him, the Holy Spirit will open our eyes to the smallest of graces, but it’s up to us to create the space for that to happen.  And when we experience those moments, wow!  We can be in touch with his love and with the life he has given us.  Time really does stand still.

The Word says, “Teach us to number our days that we may gain a heart of wisdom,” Psalm 90:12.  Wisdom comes from seeing, hearing, touching God.  We do that by eucharisteo, by giving thanks.  I couldn’t wait to note my moment with Myla in my journal later that night.   I’m inviting you to try it!  There are no rules and no time limit.  It is highly personal.  And check out Ann Voskamp’s, One Thousand Gifts Devotional.  There are pages in the back for you to make your list. I promise you will be refreshed as you notice more of God’s gifts to you each day.

Thank you, Jesus, for loving us so much.  Open our eyes to see your graces, that we may have more and more of these holy moments with you.  Amen.