Why God gave us Sisters

"Is a love affair with the God of the universe, an affair so deep that it drops you to your face in beseeching Him, in standing in awe of Him, really something that you want to get over??? Do you really want to go back to my realm, of seeing such little of His greatness and glory? The rest of us only catch a glimpse of what God is revealing to you. Not to sound crass or to dismiss your pain. I think you are the voice that Christians need to hear in this. I am sorry that the pain of missing your son is involved in revealing Christ's majesty."

Some encouragement from my sister, Traci.

***

I am unworthy to try to proclaim God's faithfulness. The temptation in my soul to conform to the world has been intense the past few days. I have been going back to wanting to make my "watchers" happy and grieve how they want me to grieve, how the world thinks I should grieve. I have been tempted to deny where God has me so that I can please the masses. I have been scared to profess too much of God in this lately.

But, beyond anything I have ever known, I know there is a sovereign God who loves me. I know my son is with Him. I know He is coming back one day, and I will give account to only Him. I draw near, and sense His presence. I reach out, and long to physically feel His hand leading me. No, I don't ever want to get over that. I don't ever want to stop standing in awe of Him. I don't want to forget His greatness and His glory that was only revealed at this time because of Trent's death.

My God knows His purposes for it being this way. I will continue to fight to not lose hope of that. I will continue to profess that. I will continue to praise Him. I will continue to trust Him. I will continue to seek Him. I will strive to be where He has me, right now. I will battle to stay close to Him. I will continue to profess Him. Nothing else matters; nothing. I will beg you to consider Him before it is too late. Do you know my God? Do you know my Jesus? Really know Him?

You answer us with righteous and awesome deeds, God our Savior, the hope of the ends of the earth and of the farthest seas.
Psalm 65:5

Truly He is my Rock and my salvation; He is my fortress, I will not be shaken.
Psalm 62:6

The LORD lives! Praise be to my Rock! Exalted be God my Savior!
Psalm 18:46

But may all who seek You rejoice and be glad in You; may those who long for Your saving help always say, "The LORD is great!"
Psalm 70:4

I wait for your salvation, Lord, and I follow your commands.
Psalm 119:166

The Honor of Kings

It is the Glory of God to conceal a matter;
It is the honor of kings to search it out.
Proverbs 25:2

This morning I went face down, refusing to stay in the apathetic place I have been with God. Not on my knees, not kneeling by the bed, but face down on the old wood floor; begging God to reveal Himself, begging Him to carry me, pleading for His grace, longing for real praise from my soul rather than just this ache that has accompanied me for so many days.

On your knees you can only accept what the King has to offer you; no more, no less, no great expectations, just total humbleness. I felt my insignificance; I sensed God's power and His majesty. I acknowledged Him as Lord and Master like never before. Lying there, I realized the feel of complete surrender.

Tonight I find myself near tears again at flashbacks from seven months ago. The shock must be wearing off. I tried reading some articles on grief to make sure that I was doing everything right and only found a lack of any Godly council. Many theories and statements are out there about how the first year of grieving a child isn't even the hardest part, and that the second through the seventh years are harder yet. But pretty much they all agree that you never really do get over it. And especially when it was an accidental death~ no chance of ever recovering from it.

Where are the Christians who have lost children? Where is the hope in God? Hope in His plans, in His sovereignty, in His eternity? Where are the Hebrews 11 people who are willing to trust God and wait on Him? Some days I feel like I am losing my mind. I conform too easily to what "they" say, and then I get scared. I wonder if I can barely do this today, how can I do it the rest of my life?

So I go back to my knees, back to prayer, back to God. I hold on tighter. I cry more. I trust God all over. I keep thinking that in 800-billion-years from now I won't even remember this day. I try to put it all in perspective somehow. I go back to the truth of Scripture and refuse, again, to be shaken. I repeat the verses over and over and over:

For those He foreknew He predestined; Precious is the death of the saints in the eyes of the Lord; Never will God leave me or forsake; I am in the palm of His hand; God knew Trent and the plans He had for him; Jesus is coming soon; God only does things for our good; one day, one day this will all be made right.

Then I realize that I made it through another day. I realize that Trent's salvation was made clear before his death. I realize that God doesn't make mistakes, and that He knows what broken hearts feel like. I realize I am praising God again.

"Blessed are those who believe in God when they haven't seen him," Alexis reminds me. "Mom, that means you. You are blessed."

I am one day closer to being in heaven. I pray harder for my children who are here. I pray for my husband. I pray for those God calls me to pray for. I pray to live as if this is my last day. I anticipate meeting Jesus face to face. I long for salvation for many souls. I long for the glory of the Lord to fill this land. I proclaim, again, what is only foolishness to so many: Jesus saves, only Jesus saves. Won't you call on Him today when He can still be found, dear reader?

Stuck

My brain is stuck. What an odd word~ stuck. All I feel in my body today is a tightening in my chest, not even tears stinging at my eyes, or that familiar lump in my throat. I feel the ache in my arms, literally, from longing to hold Trent some days. Finally, after that thought, the tears can come, and the stomach curls as the sobs fall. The lips fight to remain upright; the jaw clenches. It feels better than numb. It feels better than raw.

The outside world wants to quickly heal a person who is grieving. Funny~ at first everyone thought I should be crying, now they don't seem to think I should be, or maybe they just don't know what to do with me still crying, or maybe they don't know what to do because they aren't still crying. But it is only God that I stand before, it is His timetable that I grieve on. I will cry as long as He wants me to cry.

Life is somehow going on. Alexis and I were lamenting over that fact the other day. My little sister and I were struggling with the age old question a couple of weeks ago about why are we here~ and especially as Christians, when all we want is to be with the Lord, why are we still here. I found myself missing Trent this morning for not being here for football this year. Then I stopped myself, and realized how little I realize what reality is.

This is Satan's kingdom.

It is not Trent that I should be weeping for, it is my other children who are still here. Now don't think I've gone off the deep end, I have only seen a glimpse of what Scripture is talking about these past seven months and am trying to sort the reality of it. I have also been reading a book by Steve Gallagher called "Intoxicated with Babylon", and that reality is all too real. Eternity is on the line, people. We are playing in Satan's sandbox and enjoying it, and only want more.

What if everything Scripture says is true, dear Christian? Remember all those verses about this world being the devil's kingdom since the fall of man, and the reason that God sent His son Jesus to die on a cross was to ransom His own, and that His own should live in this world as aliens, not as citizens, and that one day He would come back to surprise us, rescue us, and establish His kingdom. But most of us don't want to be ransomed. Most of us like it here. Most of us have established our own kingdoms here and can't see beyond. We think we are entitled to this world's pleasures, and even that they are a gift from God. Remember who's pleasure's they are. Gallagher goes on to say that we have become drunkards enjoying this world's every little trifle rather than seeking our true King and His kingdom.

Wake up. Please wake up.

That is what my plea has been to God; let me wake up, let me see clearly, let me live faithfully, let me repent of anything that is not glorifying to Him, let me live obediently, let me live eternally minded, let my eyes be open.And to think, I would have traded all that just to see my son chase a little ball around a field on a cold, fall evening. He is with his God. He is with his Savior. Dance before your King, my son, and when I get there we'll dance together.

Empty Hands

Lift up your hands in the sanctuary and praise the Lord!
Psalm 134:2

When we come to God with empty hands we will not be disappointed.

It is only when our hands are clenched tightly to "my plans, my ways, my possessions, my ideas, my hurts, and my expectations" that we are disappointed in Him. When we let go, and let God be God, there is freedom. Freedom to trust Him. Freedom to let Him lead. Freedom to drop our burdens. Freedom to rest from carrying a load that is too heavy.

Arms can be raised with those same hands open to the heavens; tears can fall, and praise can come from our lips yet again. Our fight with our Creator ends when we surrender Him to be God in our lives in everything that He chooses to do. And not only God, but Master. When we turn and follow Him is when the way is paved smooth, the light shines the brightest, and the peace is the greatest. He is worthy of leading. Are you following?

Anyone who trusts in Him will never be {disappointed}.

Romans 10:11

When Hope Rises

I have dreaded going to bed at night because I know that the morning will be greeted with another wrestling match, and I will have to come to terms again with God about Trent being in heaven. This battle between soul and mind is constant. Scripture says that the heart is wicked and deceitful and is beyond cure. Our flesh is still flesh; consumed with sin and longs to go astray from our Savior, mine included. Too easily the emotions shift directions and I get swept away. So I fight. I fight with Scripture, I fight with prayer, I fight by making myself accountable and even vulnerable to what my true thoughts and emotions are. And it is exhausting.

As defeat longed to rule yesterday morning, there was suddenly a hope that rose stronger. Hope in a sovereign God, hope in the plans He has for my life, hope in His word. The thought consumed me that this was not a day of defeat, but rather it was another day to bask in God's grace. It was another day to look for His mercies, and His provision, and His faithfulness. It was a day that is a mist, a vapor that will one day pass into eternity.

In that eternity I will never have the opportunity to trust God in this way again. What is veiled now will be revealed then. "Blessed are those who do not see, and yet believe," Jesus said. In heaven God's grace will be different. It will be a grace by sight, not by faith. What a gift to know God, then, in this way for the time He has granted it.

After a good day, my night finished off on that same hope by reading in Scripture:

"Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of God. Consider Him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart."

Hebrews 12:2-3

What a truth to hold on to: Jesus Himself is the author and perfecter of our faith. Alexis and I sat together in awe pondering those words. As she sat writing her book-in-the-works the reality of an author only sunk in deeper. And if Jesus is the perfecter of our faith, that means, then, that everything He does is also perfect.

Even taking twelve year old boys to heaven.

What freedom there is in serving a Sovereign God.

~~~~~~~~~
Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as sons.
No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.
So do not throw away your confidence; it will be richly rewarded. You need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what He has promised.

For in just a little while,
"He who is coming will come and will not delay.
But my righteous one will live by faith.
And if he shrinks back,
I will not be pleased with him."

But we are not of those who shrink back and are destroyed,

but of those who believe and are saved.

Hebrews 12:7, 12:11, 10:35-39

They Shall See His Face

For the past seven months there has been one thought that has consumed me from the beginning: Trent is in heaven. I don't mean that he's gone, but that he is in heaven. Look at your son. Now, try to imagine if your son knew what heaven looked like. Try to imagine if your son knew what the face of God looked like, what the scars on Jesus' hands looked like, what the throne looked like and the souls of the martyrs under the throne, besides the cherubim and the seraphim, and the Book of life. All those things we teach our kids about in Sunday school are reality for Trent. The things I long to know first hand, he knows.

We were at the zoo the other day. Half way through as we were marvelling at yet another of God's creation, it dawned on me that Trent is probably doing the same thing on a grander scale. "Look at that, look at that, can you believe God made that, look at that!" I can't even imagine.
I am beginning to live worldly again. I hate it, but it's creeping in. The reality of salvation is becoming commonplace again. The ache for God to save my children is slowly becoming a ritual again, rather than a desperate mother pleading before her King.

Today's plans and the farm repairs are rising in importance next to soul's lately. I suppose there are those who are breathing a sigh of relief and are glad that I might lay off of the "Jesus thing" now a little bit, but I am asking God for the exact opposite. All my days left here I want to be used for His Kingdom, not this one. I don't know how to balance that. The calf shed that was started last year still needs to be finished. It is important that the last pieces of siding get put on so that we are wise stewards of our possessions, but the joy of seeing that dreamed about building coming to completion is not there anymore.

I was beginning to wonder if it was the numbness of grief, but I am slowly seeing it as God's grace as I look beyond that little white shed. My mind is trying to sort what's really important and what's temporary. Mostly my brain is on survival mode at this point, and I am only functioning enough to keep my head and my soul above water. The rest gets put aside.

Goose hunting is going on in full force around us. I try to pretend that it doesn't matter, that it doesn't bother me or make me miss Trent more. But then I tell myself to quit pretending. I know that if he were here I would not have been lying in my warm, cozy bed this morning at 5:00 AM, but rather I would have been dressed in camouflage sitting in a frosty field somewhere.

I had the opportunity to share Trent's story with three different men this week; doctor's who aren't normally in our daily life, but who God put there to work miracles through. Last year we expected nothing other than scheduling our yearly checkup for September; this time when I checked out and scheduled our appointment for next September I wondered what would be different a year from now.

I thought of how we impact each other's lives without even realizing it. I thought of these men just coming to work to punch the time clock every day, not understanding the lives that they are changing. I thought of how God changes our lives in a single day. I prayed that God would use a little slip of paper to change their lives. I wondered if that doctor realized how much it meant to me that he broke professional protocol and gave me a hug when I told him my son was in heaven. I praised God for using us.

Yesterday I cried over fence posts. Yes, fence posts. Fence posts that were put in last fall with Trent's help. I touched the post, longing for any possible physical connection to my son. I fought tears as I picked up sticks and when I carried white steel siding. The tears finally overflowed when I realized I had spent the whole morning frustrated over trying to clearly communicate with a man half way down in the nation about what color I wanted used on a book cover about my son who died.

I can't explain how odd it is that Trent is gone. Just gone. You would think that seven months later I would be used to it. Someone said to me the other day, "I don't know how you will ever get over this. I don't think you will ever get over this." I gave them credit for saying anything. It wasn't as hard to hear that comment this time around as I have already heard it before. They did go on to share some very encouraging stories, offered their sympathies, and told me of how losing our child had changed their lives as well.

But still, I don't know how I will ever get over this either. I have come to realize it is not something to "get over". It's not a disease that there is a cure for. No magic pill or potion will take it away. It is a daily walk, a daily trust, a daily hope in Jesus. The only place I need to be is where He has me. Too easily I succumb to where others want me, not intentionally on their end, but where I think they must be thinking I should be. I fight to be where God has me, whether that be crying, remembering, happy, or rejoicing. They are all emotions from Him, not any of them bad in themselves, but only more reasons to remember God's words and reflect Him in them.

I wonder if I am leading or God is leading sometimes, so I stop my plans and let Him show me. And He does. I am glad to be out of the "battle zone" where I was a couple of weeks ago. There is no doubt in my mind that there are eternal battle's going on that we are not aware of. One day we will see. I think of the intensity of a friend who shared how she had been battling in prayer for me one day. Little did she know how I needed exactly that, exactly then.

The other day I realized that somebody must be praying for our marriage. Thank you. It dawned on me a while ago how God has pulled Rob and I together at a time that we could easily be pulled apart. I can't express the strength that God has given us, or the grace, or the togetherness, or the power (not sure if that word describes it right) to glorify Him together. It dawned on me that this, too, is a blessing from God.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, as clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb down the middle of the great street of the city.

No longer will there be any curse.

The throne of God and of the Lamb will be in the city, and his servants will serve Him.

They will see his face,

and his name will be on their foreheads. There will be no more night. They will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun, for the Lord God will give them light.

And they will reign for ever and ever.

The angel said to {John}, "These words are trustworthy and true."

Better Than Chocolates

Last night Trent's name casually came up in conversation, and out of the blue, Grace, Micah and I entered in to deep theological matters that I have forgotten to be in awe of. I can't even remember what was said about Trent when Micah commented, "I wish people could come back from heaven."

I explained in simple terms, on a six year old level, "They do, Micah."

"They do?" he asked, eyes wide. "Can he come back today?" The three of us went on to discuss how Jesus was raised from the grave as the firstfruit, how God is going to restore this earth, how people will come back from heaven.

"Well then we better keep his stuff in his trunk for him."

"But I think we will probably go to heaven before Trent comes back from heaven, honey," I tried to explain.

"Well, then maybe Russell can take care of it for him." Russell is our 80-some year old neighbor.

So I tried a different tactic and told him, like Isaiah said, that we will throw all of these earthly belongings that we hold on to so tightly here and put so much meaning in, to the rats and the bats when we see what Jesus has to offer us. I think I summed it up by saying, "Jesus has lots better stuff for us."

"Like gold money, and it has the chocolates inside?"

"Yep, Micah, like gold money with chocolates inside, and even better than that."

"Better than that?!" he could hardly believe it.

I wish I could capture the "awe" in his voice by typing mere words on a computer. I wish I could capture the excitement of his childlike faith. I wish I could capture his wide eyes and expectant face for a God who was just revealed bigger than he could have ever imagined. I wish I could somehow pen the joy in my own heart to be reminded, yet again, that people do come back from heaven, and God has better things in store for His children. Better, even, than gold coins with chocolate inside.

Even in Laughter

Even in laughter the heart may ache
Proverbs 14:13

I am taking one step forward at a time. One step I have been having a hard time taking is home school. It symbolizes another first of our very way of life. It involves having to take Trent's name off of the schedule and then planning a new schedule without his name on it; preparing books and curriculum for the ones left here. It means deciding whether to leave his unfinished books on his shelf where they have sat since last winter, or remove them. It means working around his empty desk. It means trusting God all over again, moment by moment: trusting, praising, believing, going forth. It means laughing in the midst of the heartache. It means loving my children more and longing for God to do more. Longing for more grace, being here where I am, accepting where that is, and then moving forward, one little step at a time.

800 Billion Years Later

As the speaker said at camp last weekend: "There will come a day in eternity when you have your 800 billionth birthday, and if that isn't hard enough to grasp, there will come a day in eternity when you can't remember your 800 billionth birthday." Today I can barely get past Monday morning and the fact that it's six-and-a-half months later. Off to peel a billion or so apples . . . Lord willing, I'll be back later to blog about it.

Have You Met My God?

He wakens me morning by morning,wakens my ear to listen like one being taught.

The Sovereign Lord has opened my ears,and I have not been rebellious;
I have not drawn back.

Because the Sovereign Lord helps me,
I will not be disgraced.

Therefore have I set my face like flint,
and I know I will not be put to shame.

The Lord said, "I, even I, am He who comforts you.

Who are you . . . that you forget the Lord your Maker,who stretched out the heavens and laid the foundations of the earth,that you live in constant terror every day?"

Gladness and joy will overtake them,
and sorrow and sighing will flee away.

But my salvation will last forever,
my righteousness will never fail.

From Isaiah 50-51

~~~~~~~~~~~~

If I could somehow take you down with me into the pit of the despair of grief, I don't know that I would even do it. It's a scary place down there. A place with no hope, and only a furious clawing and trying to grasp anything . . . anything to hold on to. It's dark, and lonely, and painful. It makes you want to turn in on yourself and give up. I know first hand: I have been there most of the week. I don't want to go back.

I have realized that my god is too small. The god that I was creating to replace the Sovereign God, anyway. I could only see days of forever without Trent, and I could only feel the pain, and I couldn't comprehend a god who would ever be anything other than far away in his heaven as I missed my son, and went on in this life without him. That ache weighs you down. If you have never lost anybody there is no explanation for what this feels like. If you have ever lost somebody you can begin to comprehend it. If you have never lost a child, you cannot even come close to trying to imagine it.

I give in to this pain too easily. I give in to the hopelessness too easy. I get tired, I get busy, I get consumed elsewhere, and it hits me. The only way out that I know of is prayer and Scripture. I even called in the troops this week and called in some mighty prayer warriors. Then I set everything else aside other than an intentional drawing closer to Jesus. Feeling Him hold me, love me, comfort me, carry me. Fully trusting Him, letting Him lead, remembering that He is leading, and then I turned and faced that pain. Running is no good, it's still there. I look for the core of it, what is it really that I fear?

I fear that God might have made a mistake. I fear that God might not be enough. I fear that one day this will be twenty years later. I fear that I will forget my son. I fear that mother's won't still be mother's in heaven. I fear that this depends on me and that somehow I am responsible to carry it all, knowing that I can't. I fear that one day the pain will be too much and God won't be enough.

And then I wonder how I ever forgot the promises. I wonder what it was that led me to look to the here and now as the eternal. I have let my guard down in this battle. I have forgotten that there is a battle. I have forgotten what the battle is about. It is about souls. It is about eternity. It is about God's glory. Somehow those things get muddled in the midst of pain.

I try to comprehend eternity. I think of the eternities that have been changed because of Trent's death; I think of Trent's own eternity that was changed simply because of Jesus' salvation while we sat at the dining room table less than a year before the accident.

We are scared of death in our culture, but ignoring it doesn't pretend it away. Every one of us will die. Our children will die, our neighbors will die, our parents will die. And we only wonder what's on sale at Walmart or should I have that second piece of desert?

If we knew the consequences, good and bad, would we live differently? If we really believed that we would face God and give an account one day would we choose differently? If we really believed that He would punish every sin for an eternity, and that Jesus really was the only way to heaven, would we repent quicker? If we really believed that God would simply be faithful to every promise in Scripture, would we live and trust more faithfully? If we believed that He really does hear and answer our prayers, would we pray harder? Pray more?

My god is too small, but my God of the Bible says that this will all be made right someday, He says that He knows what He's doing, He says that I can trust Him, He says that He is leading me by the hand, He says that He is sovereign, He says that it is better to be with Him rather than here, even for my son.

Grief is lonely. The best intending Christians don't even get it. There are few who are called to walk in the trenches with you as you grieve. Know, dear ones, how precious you are to me who have crawled in and not let go of me down here. I long to see your rewards when Jesus does come for carrying me, for feeling my pain, for being faithful in prayer, for encouraging me, for crying over my son as if he was your son. Jesus has your names written down, and you are all written on my heart, as well, as precious friends.

I am living your worst nightmare, dear mothers. And I am here to proclaim the goodness of God in it. But don't be scared of me. Don't leave me here alone. Ask me how I am. Let me cry on your shoulder. Praise God with me, give Him the glory with me, seek Him with me. Let "me" be that mother in your life that needs you to hear her cry. Let "me", be you. Come into the trenches, be willing to walk with Him, don't be scared of the high things He will call you to. I have a feeling He wasn't kidding when He said that He was coming back soon. I have a feeling that we won't regret trusting Him in any of this.

My son is in heaven. My God is right in all that He does. Rejoice with me!

So . . . Have I Mentioned?

So . . . Have I mentioned that I wrote a book? Shortly after Trent's death different people started saying, out of the blue, that I should write a book. Finally, it dawned on me that maybe I should write a book. Maybe God was calling me to write a book. I prayed and layed out my fleece before the Lord and asked Him for Rob's overwhelming approval if I should go forth with our story of Trent's death. Before I even finished the sentence, he was nodding his head. So . . . I sat down and started writing, and writing, and writing. The words just flowed, and when there were enough they stopped.

"Now what, God?" I asked.

So he sent an editor at the time that I needed an editor. After the editor, it was time to see just what to do with the book and how to publish it. I looked at various options, and in the midst of my looking, God sent a coupon for a huge (huge!) discount off of a publisher that I only dreamt of publishing with. So I signed up with WestBow Press.

WestBow has quickly done their work, and now it has become the time to work on the cover. Hmmm... professional photographers were quickly ruled out because of the staggering prices for a photo session. So instead, I found a teen-age daughter, put the camera in her hands on an early, sunny morning and found myself on the other end of the camera hoping and praying for the perfect shot that will reveal the hope, trust, and depth of our story.And throughout it all, God has continued the encouragement. Often times people keep saying, out of the blue, you should write a book.

It's an odd thing to have wrote a book. Like I told Anne before, it's kind of like standing on main street in your bikini~ after birthing 3 children and with my farmer's tan and all. The mixture of the fear of failure, too much pride, what's my real reason, and simply being obedient are all mixed up into one, besides the countless hours of typing, decisions, and revisions. But it's been pre-read, and read, and read again, and is nearly ready to publish.

So . . . now I will wait again on God and see what He's going to do next. My continuing prayer is that He will use it to bring salvation to many and much glory to His name. When I get to heaven and give an account for my life, I want it to be one that was walked in faith (Romans 14:12) . What a joy it is to use a simple gift of writing as I follow where my Savior leads me.

When Normal is Grace

I have been fighting God lately. I have been fighting His grace. I have been fighting letting normal be His grace. I don't want normal. Not yet.

I want to stay where every thought is about Trent. I still want to envision him in his bed every night when I walk up the stairs. I still want to long to race him up from the barn everytime I do chores. I still want to mistakenly set out 7 plates on the table, three times a day, 365 days a year. I still want to keep on finding his same shorts in the laundry every week. I still want to look back and see him in the van and ask if he brushed his teeth. I still want to pause everytime I pass a picture of his. I don't want normal yet.

But there it was, again. Standing at the kitchen sink this morning, filling up the coffee pot with water to make a fresh batch of brew, looking out the window over the farm yard, seeing the sun peeking up, and thinking, just for a moment . . . not about grief, not about pain, not about Trent . . . but just normal thoughts with joy, and expectations, and looking forward to upcoming events.

Grace. Just grace in the normal. I always tend to think that God has to do something grande, with lights flashing and trumpets blaring to shower His children with good gifts. Who would have thought that coffee and a sunrise would be all that it took to reveal His goodness? Again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yet the Lord longs to be gracious to you;
He rises to show you compassion.
For the Lord is a God of justice.
Blessed are all who wait for Him!
Isaiah 30:18
~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seeing God

I feel like I should have a beautiful, poetic blog post somewhere inside of me just bursting to break forth. It seems that I should be able to wax and wane the glories of God and nicely package up all that He is doing in my life, heart, and soul. Then I realize that God does not fit into nice, pretty, little boxes. And then I realize that there is no point in forcing it, so I get another cup of coffee and do what Sherry has told me so often, I just let it flow.

Not much is flowing these days. I long to write, but there are no words. I have wrote myself out again it seems lately. There are times that I have a glimpse of God and His work. Somehow I can grasp the big picture: creation, salvation, mankind, redemption, a trumpet, a returning Savior. Other times I can barely see Him through the fog.

Since Trent's death I have been abiding in Jesus like never before in my life. I envision myself in the palm of God's hand. Just curled up there; protected, surrounded, padded, held, cherished.

I was thinking of my earthly father this morning, and realized God's goodness in taking him to heaven when I was only 18 years old. I can vaguely recall an earthly father's love, and of those recollections, very few of them being tender ones. I watch first hand, through Rob, a father's love being poured out on our children. This husband of mine, who grew up with alcoholic parent's and never learned by example how to be a godly father, has been used as a vessel for God's love. I envy my children in one sense to be loved by their earthly father in this way. I look ahead some days and anticipate the strength in them because of it, and then I wonder what God is preparing them for through it. Who can fathom the ways of the Lord, who can understand Him?

Some days I feel as if I am just being held here in this time of waiting. Waiting on God to move again, waiting for direction, waiting for the promised joy, or for the tears to stop, or for the pain to end. Waiting for my own eternity to appear. Waiting for this to be made right. But then I realize that God wants me here. He wants me to feel this, every part of it. He wants me to live now, He wants me to be obedient now, He wants me to abide in Him now, He wants me to put my hope in Him now and look forward to "that day" all the more. He has granted me this time of rest, this time of soul searching, this time of pain, this time of decision making.

I long to be used by Him. I have a friend who longs to suffer for God. For many years, now, she has been asking Him to take her deep. And she wonders why He hasn't. She fears that she will fail when He does call her to go deep for the sake of the gospel. Most of us would wonder why God would make us suffer. Most of us don't want to go deep. I can testify to her that she will not fail, because when God takes her deep it will be Him revealing His faithfulness to her, not the other way around.

So I simply abide. I do the chores, and I abide. I love my husband and my children, and I abide. I read the Scripture He points me to, and I abide. I try to listen and go where He calls me to go, and I abide. I repent, again and again, and I abide. I wonder how He will make this all right, and if what I have done today is enough, and if I should say more or say less, or if it's me or Him, and I abide. When He calls me to move, I will move. When it's His time, He will bring it about. Again, today, I go forth in trust with my Savior who leads me where He wants me to go.

Sharing our Story

Today I am sharing our story over at Ann Voskamp's sight, A Holy Experience. If you have never visited her blog, you should. It is a feast for the eyes as well as the soul. Sherry directed me over there the other day and I have been blessed by it. Amongst the other encouraging posts, she hosts Walk With Him Wednesdays. Today's topic was The Practice of Faith, where you can link up to share and encourage others in the world-wide-web community. If I was savvy enough to actually know how to place the button and the link here, I would (sorry, pretty much clueless when it comes to all those little details). Feel free to share, too, if you are so led.


On Friday February 18, 2011, God did the unthinkable in our life: He chose to take our 12-year-old son, Trent, home to heaven in a skiing accident.
It is only considered “the unthinkable” because our plans are not God’s plans, and our ways are not God’s ways.

Before Trent was born we had entrusted the Lord with his life and had asked Him, above all else, to bring salvation to our son. Our greatest desire was that he would be used in a mighty way for God’s glory, and that God would let him dwell in heaven for eternity.

God answered our prayers that Friday in a mightier way than we could have imagined, and we have been rejoicing in His good works and His mercies ever since.

Trent was a boy who truly lived. From the very beginning he did what he loved and enjoyed to the full the gifts and skills that God had given him. In his short life he saw much of this world, traveling as far as India, the Bahamas, Bass Pro Shop in Missouri where he explored his favorite destination on his golden birthday, as well as many family camping trips. God instilled a love of hunting and fishing in Trent, and a joy of the great outdoors. Since he was little all he wanted was to turn 12 to be able to go deer hunting. During his 12th year God allowed him to shoot two deer. Trent loved to pick on his siblings Alexis, Cole, Grace, and Micah, to protect his mother, to snuggle with his father, and to be with his friends, especially his best friends: Thomas and Samuel. He tried everything that interested him, even carving his own long bow and succeeding in taxidermy. In his short years he lived life to the fullest.

But as we are all destined to, Trent also died. On Friday, February 18, 2011, we said goodbye to our son as he left for a skiing trip with his friends, not knowing that he would never be coming back home. God says that He knows the number of our days, that He has created each one, and that He will do what He pleases (Psalm 115:3; Job14:5).

God’s standards to enter His kingdom are high: He expects perfection. Trent was not perfect, not even close. God graciously provided His perfect Son, Jesus Christ, as the atonement for our sinfulness and requires that we simply believe and acknowledge Him for it.

For most of his life Trent struggled with his own sinfulness before God. He knew that he was not right before God, and nothing he could do would ever make up for the sins he had committed to make him worthy to enter heaven. In the spring of 2010, God graciously chose to bring salvation to Trent through repentance and the saving grace of Christ Jesus. Trent’s life was transformed and we enjoyed the young fruit in his life as we watched God work.

It was with great peace and much rejoicing, then, that we as his family have sent him off before us and accepted God’s perfect plan for Trent’s life. Our longing is that God would be glorified in what He has done to wake up many to the realization that we are not guaranteed any number of years in this world (Psalm 39:4-5).

On Friday morning we had our son; on Friday afternoon he was gone.

What we have asked so many people since the accident is: “What if it had been you? Where would you be right now?”

We diligently raised Trent up to know his sinful state and taught him what the Word of God says because we know the implications of denying Christ now, and God was gracious to answer our prayers and to save him. Scripture says that the gospel will go forth with much sorrow and heartache. Please let Trent’s short life be a wake-up call to you. We are rejoicing in the sorrow because we know where our son is and that we will one day be with him again for eternity because of our own salvation.

God's mercies are new every day and His peace does surpass all understanding (Lamentations 3:22-23; Philippians 4:6-7). God has been so gracious to us by blessing us first of all with His peace in His perfect plan. The family and friends who have surrounded us and have lifted us up in prayer are amazing and another testimony to God’s goodness.

It is with great rejoicing that we release our son, Trent, age 12, to our Heavenly Father. Dance before your King, my son.

The Romans road to salvation:
Romans 3:23; 3:10-18; 6:23; 5:8; 10:9; 10:13; 5:1; 8:1; 8:38-39

Lately

Just some thoughts, prayers, and promises during this journey of grief.

Not sure where to start as it's been a few days since I have been able to write, so I'll start with today and try to get this out of my system, hopefully then go on to the good stuff from the past week. Today's tough. I knew before I got out of bed that it would be a tough day. Little bit's of the week's joy were broken with the tears, the remembering, the missing.

But today . . . I'm trying to pinpoint just what it is.

Probably that it was Rob's birthday yesterday. Probably because he had a tough morning having a first birthday without Trent here. Probably because I am too stubborn to let a day like my husband's birthday let me go down, so I wait until the day after. Everything is setting me off today~ picking corn, seeing pictures of children who aren't even mine on the Internet, realizing we passed another month anniversary, looking up and seeing Micah wearing an old shirt of Trent's that he found who-knows-where, seeing the bunkbed that was taken apart and is still sitting in the hallway waiting to go to the garage, finding a football in the yard and remembering the day Trent bought it at a garage sale with his own money and remembering again, and again, and again that it is football season and how we looked forward to games and practices and Trent's excitement this fall, or maybe it's the fact that school needs to begin in a couple of weeks and I don't want to see a schedule without Trent's name on it. Or maybe I'm just tired of everybody being sick and I'm feeling behind on everything from the lawn mowing, to keeping up with the budget, to figuring out what-in-the-world to cook for supper, again.

But the whole week hasn't been that way. It has been a good week, actually. A week of remembering the Promises. A week of joy for a son in heaven. A week of trusting. A week of seeing God's work in action. A week of realizing (just a bit) the bubble that God has us in, where we are being uplifted in prayer, and His grace really is sufficient and being poured out beyond measure.

Did you know that Jesus longs for His children to be with Him? In John 17:24 He says, "Father, I want those you have given me to be with me where I am." I have been pondering those words, cherishing them, loving God more for them. He knows our longings. He feels our hurt and the depth of our missing our son. He longs for us that way. In God's sovereignty, the waiting is necessary. One day, one day. . .

The book of Isaiah continues to be my steadfast place of joy and hope. God has used those verses over these past six months to encourage me greatly. I am led back there again and again. "I have chosen you and have not rejected you. So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." Isaiah 41:9-10 "For I am the Lord, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you. Do not be afraid, O worm Jacob, O little Israel, for I myself will help you," declares the Lord, your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel." Isaiah 41:13-14

I have been thinking about the honor of suffering lately. Not just suffering, but suffering as God's children, suffering under His hand, suffering for the advance of the gospel. Zechariah 13:9 keeps coming to mind:

"This third I will put into the fire;
I will refine them like silver and test them like gold.
They will call on my name
and I will answer them;
I will say, ‘They are my people,’
and they will say,
‘The LORD is our God.’”

Somehow I am trying to understand this verse from an eternal perspective. How easy it is to look at this temporary world and think that it is eternal. Eternity is real. This God is real. What He says is real and it is what He is going to base and judge everything on. The realization that He chose me to be put into the fire, to be refined and tested, for the purpose that I would call on His name and have no other hope, to wake me up, to shake me up, to reveal Himself, to prove Himself, to bring glory to Himself, to proclaim hope through my pain . . . what a thought.

And then to realize that I am not isolated here on a little island by myself. God is not only working in our lives with Trent's death. He has caused hundreds, I would even venture to say thousands just from the numbers I know, to consider eternity, their own and their children's, through one twelve year old boy entering glory. How many of them have ignored the opportunity for salvation? But then, how many have been impacted to live for Christ? To change their motives and desires and focus them heavenward rather than worldly. How many children's lives have been changed forever because God has gotten a hold of the parents through this?

Our lives where changed six years ago when close friends lost a young daughter in an accident. The way I live and parent and love my children and trust and long for God is different because of that day. I never thought I would be that mother with that kind of a story to tell for eternity. I never expected this kind of a gift from my Creator. I never knew He was this good.

Saturday Morning Ramblings

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"God whispers to us in our pleasures,
speaks in our conscience,
but shouts in our pains:
it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world."

The Problem of Pain, C.S. Lewis

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's funny how God keeps bringing things over and over and over again in our lives. I have been pondering this quote by C.S. Lewis for weeks now, and then was reminded of it again when I was reading about Elijah in 1 Kings 19 yesterday.

Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart
and shattered the rocks before the LORD,
but the LORD was not in the wind.
After the wind there was an earthquake,
but the LORD was not in the earthquake.
After the earthquake came a fire,
but the LORD was not in the fire.
And after the fire came a gentle whisper.
When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face
and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave.
Then a voice said to him, “What are you doing here, Elijah?”
I Kings 19: 11b-13

Elijah had ran. For more than forty days he had ran. Did he think he could outrun God? I realized I have a tendency to run from God. But God has a way of getting our attention so that we have to stop running and consider Him.

You've got my attention Lord; I'm listening. I have seen Your mighty deeds. I have witnessed Your strength. I have heard Your whisper.

I feel at times like God has me backed up against the wall of that rock cliff with nowhere else to go except to turn around and face Him. "What are you doing here, Terri?" He asks.

Why do I run? Have I forgotten what His word says? Have I forgotten the cross? Have I lost hope? Have I turned to myself and this world for everlasting joy? Have I given in to the temptation to trade the treasures of this world for the treasures of heaven? Have I given in to doubts? Do I think He doesn't know what He's doing? Do I think He won't be enough?

I'm not sure most days how to go beyond missing Trent. I don't want to not miss Trent.

My head is pounding from a summer cold. Grief is harder with added exhaustion. I have been letting myself cry, though. It is easier for the tears to flow and it is easier for people to see them flow. I have rarely felt vulnerable enough to let myself cry in front of anybody, even Rob. It's just the way I am; I barely cry to start with. What I have found are arms that hold me, gentle hands that wipe away the tears, and whispers of God's promises. And then, the tears do finally stop.

Alexis is amazing. Oh, how God has used that young lady. He has been using her to reveal Himself to me throughout her whole life. So often I try to hide my deepest grief and pain from the kids, but God tells her even when I can't say it. I was cooking supper on the grill the other night and heard the door open behind me. She came out on the deck and just quietly stood off to the side, under the eave as it was raining. I turned around and looked at her and asked what she was doing. "God just told me to come out here," she said. And I had just been praying for God's strength.

And talking about cooking. . . who ever knew grief was such a good diet plan? I stepped on the scale this morning and realized I have lost close to fifteen pounds in the last six months. I am nearly down to post-highschool/pre-baby weight. Guess I don't have to worry too much about that double chin anytime soon. I will be expecting Maddie to pull in with a pot of some kind of kitchen goodness and spoon feed me pretty soon if she catches wind of it. Man does not live by bread alone, do they my good friend? God has been my sustainer. I have longed for Him more than food.

And on to expectations. I feel like I have two heads most of the time when I go anywhere local. Do I talk about Trent, don't I talk about Trent? Does this person know, or do they really not know? Do they want me to say something first, or don't they want me to talk about it? It's so odd to stand around and talk about the weather with people when eternity is on the line.

I still hardly feel like I can put together enough words to carry on a real conversation with most people anyway. There are the one's that have walked this walk with us and we end up closing down the church when we are together. But most people don't know what to do or what to say. I guess I don't know what to do or what to say, either. I don't know if I am expected to act like the grieving mother, or the pious religious woman, or the crazy God lady. I don't know why I care so much about what I think everybody thinks about me, versus what God thinks about me. And then I have heard of a few people who think too highly about me, and I like that even less. I am no different, no better, and no higher; God is only using me in the way He chose.

Maybe someday life will be normal again. Maybe someday I won't be scared of melting into a crying fit while standing in the dog food aisle at the local Dollar store. Maybe someday I will be fifteen pounds on the other side of that scale and will worry again about that double chin.
I'll finish the ramblings with a little more C.S. Lewis because once I started reading his quotes (from here) I couldn't stop.

"Relying on God has to begin all over again every day as if nothing had yet been done..."

--from a letter "To Mrs. L."

"100 per cent of us die, and the percentage cannot be increased."

--The Weight of Glory

"[God] is not proud...He will have us even though we have shown that we prefer everything else to Him."

--The Problem of Pain

"God will look to every soul like its first love because He is its first love."
--The Problem of Pain

"When you invite a middle-aged moralist to address you, I suppose I must conclude...that you have a taste for middle-aged moralizing."
--The Weight of Glory

Be Careful What You Ask For

Yesterday was a tough day to get out of bed. Never mind that the coffee and the bathroom is excluded in my quest to truly praise God for His sovereign plan of Trent being in heaven every morning before my feet hit the floor; I crossed my legs and went on with the soul searching. As I was trying to fake my way through it so I could just get downstairs and start the day, the thought dawned on me that this was the God of the universe that I was talking to. He knows my heart and my real thoughts. I can't be fake before Him.

I grabbed my Bible from the chair beside the bed and randomly opened up to Zechariah. Amazing promises from my Savior that is leading me. A little flicker of hope again, closer to praising, closer to joy. As I finished my prayer, and was actually rejoicing, I asked God one more thing. I asked him to just send some encouragement today. I have resolved to be content to let Him do with Trent's death what He wants, but I have never quit asking Him to use it in a mighty way to glorify His name. I long to leave it all in God's hands and trust whatever He has chosen to do with it, but sometimes (like all the time) I just want to see a glimpse of His work. "A little encouragement would make this so much easier today, God," I told Him.

I expected a sweet email, or an encouraging comment (which He also sent, thanks for being faithful dear ones), but He went above and beyond that as well. In very clear, God guided motives, my little sister showed up before lunch time. We laughed, we cried, we hugged, we talked, we ate, but above all, we rejoiced in God's work. Oh, His amazing work! His clear work that can't be denied that is going on right before our eyes. Eternities that have been changed because of that day in February. Prayers answered. Hearts changed. Souls saved. Praising a good God that does have this all planned out.

Today I woke up empowered by that work. I remembered that God does hear our every little plea. He sees our broken hearts. He is enough if we will let Him be. I woke up truly rejoicing for a son in heaven before my eyes even opened this morning. I prayed more intently than I have in days. I specifically lifted up before the Lord the young doctor that cared for Trent that afternoon in that emergency room just like I told him I would: for his salvation, for conviction of sin, for God's work in his life. I trust my Savior's leading. Today it is easier to follow Him.

"This third I will bring into the fire;

I will refine them like silver and test them like gold.

They will call on my name and I will answer them;

I will say, 'They are my people,'

and they will say, 'The Lord is our God.'"

Zechariah 13:9

The Seed

But someone may ask, "How are the dead raised? With what kind of body will they come?" How foolish! What you sow does not come to life unless it dies. When you sow, you do not plant the body that will be, but just a seed. . .

But God gives it a body as he has determined, and to each kind of seed He gives its own body. So will it be with the resurrection of the dead. The body that is sown is perishable, it is raised imperishable; it is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power; it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body.

If there is a natural body, there is also a spiritual body. So it is written: "The first man Adam became a living being", the last Adam, a life giving spirit. The spiritual did not come first, but the natural, and after that the spiritual. The first man was of the dust of the earth, the second man from heaven. As was the earthly man, so are those who are of the earth; and as is the man from heaven, so also are those who are of heaven. And just as we have borne the likeness of the earthly man, so shall we bear the likeness of the man from heaven.

I declare to you, brothers, that flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable. For the perishable must clothe itself with the imperishable, the mortal with immortality. When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, than the saying that is written will come true: "Death has been swallowed up in victory." "Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?" The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

Therefore, my dear brothers, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain. If only in this life we have hope in Christ, we are to be pitied more than all men.

A little hope today from 1 Corinthians 15.

Can You Feel It?

I can't feel it.

I can't feel the joy of the subtle change from hot summer days to slightly cooler, comfortable weather. I can't feel the peace of a quiet morning on the porch with a cup of coffee, gazing across the fields, woods, and farmyard. I can't feel the simple pleasure of walking in the garden and seeing the fruits of our labor. I am scared to feel the depth of the love in my heart for my children still here. I don't know how to laugh with them and dream with them anymore. My husbands embrace threatens to cause an avalanche of emotions that might not ever stop once they start.

I can't begin to express how sad I am. I can't begin to describe the pain in my heart. I can't start to think about the depth of that sadness lest it overwhelms me. There are no words to explain how it feels to miss your son after he has been in heaven for nearly six months.

I wonder how God will make this all right one day. Not blasphemous, but really wondering. How does this get made right? How do all the days of missed childhood, precious memories, of watching a young boy grow into a young man be made right?

When does this ache stop? Does it ever stop? Will the tears ever stop? What if I forget Trent? What if having only four kids becomes normal? When did it become normal?

In God Alone

Up, down, up, down, up, down. Good grief. I can't stop this roller coaster, so I just hold on. Today I'm up. Catching my breath for the next plunge down again, but enjoying the mountain top experience for now. I cling to God's grace. I beg Him to continue sending it. I praise Him when I feel it, and I try to remember that's what this is.

I have been having what is probably anxiety attacks lately. Breathe in, breathe out. Stop the brain and emotions that continue to run away, and turn back to Scripture. "[I] live by faith and not by sight. Therefore [I] do not lose heart. Though outwardly [I am] wasting away, yet inwardly [I am] being renewed day by day. For [my] light and momentary troubles are achieving for [me] an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So [I] fix [my] eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. And [I . . . am] being transformed into His likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit. Therefore, since [I] have such a hope, [I am] very bold. I tell you, now is the time of God's favor, now is the day of salvation." ( From 2 Corinthians this morning.)

I have realized God's grace on a deeper level lately in the fact that He has removed any expectations of looking to others for peace and comfort through this, but rather He has turned me to Him alone. "But this has happened that [I] might not rely on [myself] but on God, who raises the dead." (2 Corinthians 1:9) He has been drawing me into a quiet time with Him so that He can reveal Himself greater than I have ever known Him to be. I think of Jesus' time in the wilderness . . . I long to go hide in the wilderness just to be alone with God.

I have also been trying to comprehend the mercies and blessings of God that are revealed through suffering. Over and over I have praised God for waking me up spiritually. My reality is that I will never again know how it feels to not have a child who died. Any supposed trust or hope that I ever had in this life has been destroyed. My eyes have been fixed on eternity. "So from now on [I] regard no one from a worldly point of view." (2 Corinthians 5:16)

Rather than seeing you, I see your eternity. I wonder where you are with Christ. I beg God continuously for the salvation of my children. I pray for Him to keep my husband strong. I pray for the salvation of those who email or call or stop over just to visit. I pray for the guy sitting at his picnic table as I drive by, wondering if he knows where he's going when he dies. My heart is fixed on heaven, rather than here on this earth.

I raise my hands and praise God that Trent is in heaven. I see the sun beaming through my bedroom window and think of the verse that says God's glory rises like the morning sun. I feel it rising in my soul; one day I will see it first hand. One day I will see my son again face to face.