Many people continue to console me with the phrase, "there's no answer to why these things happen, but know that you will see your son again."
As much as I appreciate their efforts, the "why" is all that matters while we're waiting for heaven. It's the "why" that takes up all the days and nights and must be resolved before you can put down the pain even for a moment and learn to focus on something else. If "why" is not answered, pain and grief hog tie your whole life and keep you from moving on to do the good works that God promised would come out of every circumstance in a Christian's life.
I did write about this back in April, but you'll be surprised to know that it was long and wordy. (so unlike me!) So, I thought I'd shorten it up here and clarify a bit....
(the long blog is at: http://nickwithchrist.blogspot.com/2008_04_01_archive.html you'll have to copy and paste the link.)
But briefly put...
The loss of my son has changed me and grown me in ways that could never have happened any other way. I am a completely different person and - if I'm honest with myself - I would not chose to return to the person I was before.
In comparison to who I've become, I was shallow, short sighted and cared only for the things of this world having no concern for the reality of eternity. And I also know that I am not the only person who was remolded due to this experience. Everyday I hear from someone else who was radically changed and awakened to the true importance of life and eternity and their family and faith.
I know I will see my son again. I have joy in the realization that my time with him is not over - just interrupted. The agony over the interruption is inexpressible, but if it means that other's can be saved from "unawareness" - unawareness of how precious their families are, unawareness of how important their relationship with God is, unawareness of how short and unimportant this fleeting life is, unawareness of how much others need us right up until the day we're called home, unawareness of where our "real" home is - then I can actually say it is painfully and agonizingly worth it.
No, I will never know God's true purpose in his death in until I speak with Him face to face, but I do see Him working through it - and the eternity that I am promised will more than make up for the pain I'm enduring now. Nick's death has brought people together, taught others to love their kids more fully, open people's eyes to the reality of how short life is, and changed each member of our family in innumerable ways.
Simply put...
"God is in the business of creating and He hasn't stopped yet!"
Monday, July 21, 2008
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
More to life
Ecclesiastes 5:15 “Naked a man comes from his mother’s womb,
and as he comes, so he departs.
He takes nothing from his labor that he can carry in his hand.”
There seems to be more shock over Nick’s death simply because of his age than over any other facet of the tragedy. Most aren’t stricken with compassion because Cody was there to watch his brother’s body completely shut down. They aren’t filled with sorrow over the fact that as Nick reached out to his Papa asking him for help, there was nothing my father could do. Most don’t agonize over the realization that his death was swift and unexpected leaving us to feel like we were “sucker punched” not even knowing from where the punch came. There are so many aspects of his departure that are disturbing, but still I don’t get any response more often than the line, “He was so young!”
Why does that realization affect us all in such a profound way? I have no relevant degrees or experience to boast any expertise in this area, but I do have an idea to share.
I believe that we all feel we have the right to a “full” life here on earth. We think “full” is defined as being given a life that is long enough to acquire all that we want. You may not be the type of person who wants to acquire things, but you have a certain expectation about the live you feel entitled to. Maybe for some it is 18 years or more of education, or a marriage with several biological kids, or an existence free from foreclosures, debt, starvation or loneliness. We think having several years on this rock we call earth is an entitlement because, really, what else is there?
We need a house with three bedrooms because we have three kids. We need a four year degree to get a good job so our families are free from financial stress. We need our kids to be signed up for hundreds of dollars worth of sporting events because otherwise they would just sit on the couch and watch TV.
But why do we feel we need all these things? Surely there is more to do in life than just make money and die.
The outside world’s distress at Nick’s young passing bears witness to the fact that we cannot let go of the belief that “this is all there is”. We think someone has “missed out” when they exit this world without the opportunities we expect.
Let me highlight my point another way. If we truly believed down deep in our souls that this life is merely a dress rehearsal for a much better existence yet to come, our whole culture would look very different than it does now. Instead of sending condolence cards upon someone’s death, we would send “congratulations on your graduation”! Instead of closing ourselves off in our big air conditioned homes, we’d buy a small home in a crowded neighborhood with lots of opportunities for friendship and use our excess funds to bless others while enjoying the health and happiness that springs from the lack of financial strain in our own lives. Instead of 18 years of teaching each other how to struggle to survive with knowledge that will be obsolete in a maximum of 70 years, we’d focus on caring for each other on a regular basis.
(Think about it for a minute….when we die, only our relationships, with God and each other, will live on. Multiplication tables, chemistry equations and financial planning will no longer be a necessity. Could you see any company on the planet thinking it wise to spend 18 years developing something that is guaranteed to be null and void fifty years after it’s complete?)
Those of us who knew and still love Nick miss him because of the relationship we had with him that we are missing out on – and that relationship will be returned to us – Praise God! But when we mourn because of what we think he’s missing out on we tip our hand and show the world what our true belief system is.
This world is not all there is!
Nick is not missing out on a single thing. I guess he does miss out on sunburns – but not on playing in the sun! He will skip acne, but he will still become a man. He sidesteps the land minds of dating, but does not lose intimate relationships with people. He will miss out on having a home mortgage, but God had a mansion already prepared for him when he arrived!
Nick was not robbed of anything, but we will be if we put all of our riches into this world instead of the eternal one.
“Naked a man comes….and so he departs.”
But we can be rich eternally if we deposit our wealth into the real future! How do we get it there? By investing all of our energy, hope, talents, and focus on people. People, relationships, compassion, time, caring, love and effort are the only things that will be waiting for us when we die. The house I bought will be cared for by others for as many years as the Lord decrees and then it will be destroyed and all of my hard work with it. But – praise God – my relationship and love and time with my son will endure forever.
I have a plea…
Please, do not waste all your time, money, focus and effort on a house that someone else will completely redecorate in 10 -20 years or less; or on a car that will be out of fashion in 1 year and rust completely away in 15; or on a career that saps you of the energy you need to be fully involved in your family; or even on an education that will be irrelevant in 50 years if it means that you will ignore God’s word which will last for all eternity.
There is so much more to life than just surviving the current situation we are in now. I cannot say it better than Christ who said,
" 'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.’” Matthew 22: 37-39
I miss my son horribly, but I am so excited that he has run the race, finished the course, obtained the prize – even if he did run faster than me! What mother wouldn’t be proud when her son runs,completes and wins the prize in life’s most important race! And I know he is standing at the finish line waiting for me to join him. I am truly blessed!
and as he comes, so he departs.
He takes nothing from his labor that he can carry in his hand.”
There seems to be more shock over Nick’s death simply because of his age than over any other facet of the tragedy. Most aren’t stricken with compassion because Cody was there to watch his brother’s body completely shut down. They aren’t filled with sorrow over the fact that as Nick reached out to his Papa asking him for help, there was nothing my father could do. Most don’t agonize over the realization that his death was swift and unexpected leaving us to feel like we were “sucker punched” not even knowing from where the punch came. There are so many aspects of his departure that are disturbing, but still I don’t get any response more often than the line, “He was so young!”
Why does that realization affect us all in such a profound way? I have no relevant degrees or experience to boast any expertise in this area, but I do have an idea to share.
I believe that we all feel we have the right to a “full” life here on earth. We think “full” is defined as being given a life that is long enough to acquire all that we want. You may not be the type of person who wants to acquire things, but you have a certain expectation about the live you feel entitled to. Maybe for some it is 18 years or more of education, or a marriage with several biological kids, or an existence free from foreclosures, debt, starvation or loneliness. We think having several years on this rock we call earth is an entitlement because, really, what else is there?
We need a house with three bedrooms because we have three kids. We need a four year degree to get a good job so our families are free from financial stress. We need our kids to be signed up for hundreds of dollars worth of sporting events because otherwise they would just sit on the couch and watch TV.
But why do we feel we need all these things? Surely there is more to do in life than just make money and die.
The outside world’s distress at Nick’s young passing bears witness to the fact that we cannot let go of the belief that “this is all there is”. We think someone has “missed out” when they exit this world without the opportunities we expect.
Let me highlight my point another way. If we truly believed down deep in our souls that this life is merely a dress rehearsal for a much better existence yet to come, our whole culture would look very different than it does now. Instead of sending condolence cards upon someone’s death, we would send “congratulations on your graduation”! Instead of closing ourselves off in our big air conditioned homes, we’d buy a small home in a crowded neighborhood with lots of opportunities for friendship and use our excess funds to bless others while enjoying the health and happiness that springs from the lack of financial strain in our own lives. Instead of 18 years of teaching each other how to struggle to survive with knowledge that will be obsolete in a maximum of 70 years, we’d focus on caring for each other on a regular basis.
(Think about it for a minute….when we die, only our relationships, with God and each other, will live on. Multiplication tables, chemistry equations and financial planning will no longer be a necessity. Could you see any company on the planet thinking it wise to spend 18 years developing something that is guaranteed to be null and void fifty years after it’s complete?)
Those of us who knew and still love Nick miss him because of the relationship we had with him that we are missing out on – and that relationship will be returned to us – Praise God! But when we mourn because of what we think he’s missing out on we tip our hand and show the world what our true belief system is.
This world is not all there is!
Nick is not missing out on a single thing. I guess he does miss out on sunburns – but not on playing in the sun! He will skip acne, but he will still become a man. He sidesteps the land minds of dating, but does not lose intimate relationships with people. He will miss out on having a home mortgage, but God had a mansion already prepared for him when he arrived!
Nick was not robbed of anything, but we will be if we put all of our riches into this world instead of the eternal one.
“Naked a man comes….and so he departs.”
But we can be rich eternally if we deposit our wealth into the real future! How do we get it there? By investing all of our energy, hope, talents, and focus on people. People, relationships, compassion, time, caring, love and effort are the only things that will be waiting for us when we die. The house I bought will be cared for by others for as many years as the Lord decrees and then it will be destroyed and all of my hard work with it. But – praise God – my relationship and love and time with my son will endure forever.
I have a plea…
Please, do not waste all your time, money, focus and effort on a house that someone else will completely redecorate in 10 -20 years or less; or on a car that will be out of fashion in 1 year and rust completely away in 15; or on a career that saps you of the energy you need to be fully involved in your family; or even on an education that will be irrelevant in 50 years if it means that you will ignore God’s word which will last for all eternity.
There is so much more to life than just surviving the current situation we are in now. I cannot say it better than Christ who said,
" 'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.’” Matthew 22: 37-39
I miss my son horribly, but I am so excited that he has run the race, finished the course, obtained the prize – even if he did run faster than me! What mother wouldn’t be proud when her son runs,completes and wins the prize in life’s most important race! And I know he is standing at the finish line waiting for me to join him. I am truly blessed!
Saturday, July 12, 2008
HOW MUCH MUSIC CAN YOU MAKE?
By Steve Goodier © 2002
On Nov. 18, 1995, violinist Itzhak Perlman, performed a concert at
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center in New York City. Stricken with
polio as a child, Perlman painfully walked with the aid of two
crutches to a chair in the middle of the stage. He carefully laid the
crutches on the floor, loosened the clasps of his leg braces, extended
one leg forward and the other underneath his chair, picked up his
instrument and nodded to the conductor to begin.
But something went wrong. After only seconds of playing, one of the
strings on his violin broke. The snap was a gunfire reverberating in
the auditorium. The audience immediately knew what happened and fully
expected the concert to be suspended until another string or even
another instrument could be found.
But Perlman surprised them. He quietly composed himself, closed his
eyes and then signaled the conductor to begin again. The orchestra
resumed where they had left off and Perlman played -- on three
strings. He played with passion and power. All the time he worked out
new fingering in his mind to compensate for the missing string. A work
that few people could play well on four strings Perlman accomplished
on three.
When he finished, an awesome silence hung in the room. And then as
one, the crowd rose to their feet and cheered wildly. Applause burst
forth from every corner of the auditorium as fans showed deep
appreciation for his talent and his courage.
Perlman smiled and wiped the sweat from this brow. Then he raised his
bow to quiet the crowd and said, not boastfully, but in a quiet,
pensive, reverent tone, "You know, sometimes it is the artist's task
to find out how much music you can still make with what you have
left."
Perlman should know. Polio left him with less stamina than he had
before, yet he went on. Playing a concert on three strings is not
unlike his philosophy of life -- he persevered with what he had left
and still made music.
And isn't that true with us? Our task is to find out how much music we
can still make with what we have left. How much good we can still do.
How much joy we can still share. For I'm convinced that the world,
more than ever, needs the music only you and I can make.
And if it takes extra courage to make the music, many will applaud
your effort. For some people have lost more than others, and these
brave souls inspire the rest of us to greater heights.
So I want to ask, "How much music can you make with what you have
left?"
On Nov. 18, 1995, violinist Itzhak Perlman, performed a concert at
Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center in New York City. Stricken with
polio as a child, Perlman painfully walked with the aid of two
crutches to a chair in the middle of the stage. He carefully laid the
crutches on the floor, loosened the clasps of his leg braces, extended
one leg forward and the other underneath his chair, picked up his
instrument and nodded to the conductor to begin.
But something went wrong. After only seconds of playing, one of the
strings on his violin broke. The snap was a gunfire reverberating in
the auditorium. The audience immediately knew what happened and fully
expected the concert to be suspended until another string or even
another instrument could be found.
But Perlman surprised them. He quietly composed himself, closed his
eyes and then signaled the conductor to begin again. The orchestra
resumed where they had left off and Perlman played -- on three
strings. He played with passion and power. All the time he worked out
new fingering in his mind to compensate for the missing string. A work
that few people could play well on four strings Perlman accomplished
on three.
When he finished, an awesome silence hung in the room. And then as
one, the crowd rose to their feet and cheered wildly. Applause burst
forth from every corner of the auditorium as fans showed deep
appreciation for his talent and his courage.
Perlman smiled and wiped the sweat from this brow. Then he raised his
bow to quiet the crowd and said, not boastfully, but in a quiet,
pensive, reverent tone, "You know, sometimes it is the artist's task
to find out how much music you can still make with what you have
left."
Perlman should know. Polio left him with less stamina than he had
before, yet he went on. Playing a concert on three strings is not
unlike his philosophy of life -- he persevered with what he had left
and still made music.
And isn't that true with us? Our task is to find out how much music we
can still make with what we have left. How much good we can still do.
How much joy we can still share. For I'm convinced that the world,
more than ever, needs the music only you and I can make.
And if it takes extra courage to make the music, many will applaud
your effort. For some people have lost more than others, and these
brave souls inspire the rest of us to greater heights.
So I want to ask, "How much music can you make with what you have
left?"
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Mom's worries
Nick was a worrier.
I found myself several times a week telling him not to worry. I would make him look me in the eye and ask directly, “Do you trust me?” He would nod yes. “Then please don’t worry. Let’s pray together, but don’t waste your energy worrying.”
He would worry that he hadn’t told anyone about God in a long time. He would worry that if he didn’t chew his food enough that he would choke. He would worry that Cody would not listen to him or his parents and end up getting really hurt. He would worry that Josh would get hurt when he was in Iraq. He would come out of the shower and ask me if I thought his ribs stuck out too much – he was worried he was too skinny.
Once he worried that the animals he loved would not be in heaven. When he was young I would just say, “yes, there will be cats and frogs and horses in heaven.” But as he got older I knew he could handle a more honest answer. “Nick, I don’t know if there will be horses in heaven, but I do know that there will be a creature that is everything you love about horses and more. Maybe that will be a horse, or maybe something so spectacular you’ll only get to experience it in heaven. But I know there will be a creature that is power, fast, beautiful, gentle and soft! But don’t worry. God knows you love horses – He gave you that love – and He will satisfy the desire more completely than you could ever dream.”
That lesson came full circle today.
My devotion (which is written by a woman who lost two children and it’s specifically for people grieving over loss) was about a topic that really hit home. She said that when she has hard moments at her children’s grave, people are very sweet to remind her that she need not grieve because her children are not there, but rather they are in heaven. She was already well aware of that but was grieving because, though their spirits are in heaven, their bodies are still in the ground. She said, “I really miss their bodies. I love their bodies and I miss holding them.”
I couldn’t agree more. I deeply miss Nick’s body as well as his soul.
I miss Nick’s smile though I’m sure he’ll still have that when we meet again. But, I also miss his “little foot”. I would massage that foot every night as he fell asleep. I know it’s the middle ray that was missing (even though the doctors said it was the pinky) because when you massage his foot it’s obvious which toe is missing. I miss his “cockeyed” stance because his leg was short. I like his long skinny arms and legs and obvious ribs. I love his long lean muscles and dry straw hair.
People say, in order to be encouraging, that Nick will be perfect and made new when I see him again.
But he already was perfect.
I find myself worrying and asking questions that cannot be answered. If I die before the rapture, will I have a chance to see Nick as I knew him before he’s “made new”? How can he be “Nick” without his wonderful little foot and beautiful crooked stance? Is he still little now or did I miss everything I ever looked forward to and he’s shot into adulthood leaving me behind?
I was thinking all these thoughts and more as I drove by Nick’s grave today. I was shocked to tears when I’m sure I heard him respond to my longing and grief…
“Do you trust God, Mom? Then please don’t worry. He knows how much you love me – He gave you that love – and He will satisfy the desire you have more completely than you could ever dream. You still do not know what is here, but please trust God that He will satisfy all your needs. Be patient and peaceful – and, mom, - please don’t worry.”
If it’s possible, I think I love him even more…..
I found myself several times a week telling him not to worry. I would make him look me in the eye and ask directly, “Do you trust me?” He would nod yes. “Then please don’t worry. Let’s pray together, but don’t waste your energy worrying.”
He would worry that he hadn’t told anyone about God in a long time. He would worry that if he didn’t chew his food enough that he would choke. He would worry that Cody would not listen to him or his parents and end up getting really hurt. He would worry that Josh would get hurt when he was in Iraq. He would come out of the shower and ask me if I thought his ribs stuck out too much – he was worried he was too skinny.
Once he worried that the animals he loved would not be in heaven. When he was young I would just say, “yes, there will be cats and frogs and horses in heaven.” But as he got older I knew he could handle a more honest answer. “Nick, I don’t know if there will be horses in heaven, but I do know that there will be a creature that is everything you love about horses and more. Maybe that will be a horse, or maybe something so spectacular you’ll only get to experience it in heaven. But I know there will be a creature that is power, fast, beautiful, gentle and soft! But don’t worry. God knows you love horses – He gave you that love – and He will satisfy the desire more completely than you could ever dream.”
That lesson came full circle today.
My devotion (which is written by a woman who lost two children and it’s specifically for people grieving over loss) was about a topic that really hit home. She said that when she has hard moments at her children’s grave, people are very sweet to remind her that she need not grieve because her children are not there, but rather they are in heaven. She was already well aware of that but was grieving because, though their spirits are in heaven, their bodies are still in the ground. She said, “I really miss their bodies. I love their bodies and I miss holding them.”
I couldn’t agree more. I deeply miss Nick’s body as well as his soul.
I miss Nick’s smile though I’m sure he’ll still have that when we meet again. But, I also miss his “little foot”. I would massage that foot every night as he fell asleep. I know it’s the middle ray that was missing (even though the doctors said it was the pinky) because when you massage his foot it’s obvious which toe is missing. I miss his “cockeyed” stance because his leg was short. I like his long skinny arms and legs and obvious ribs. I love his long lean muscles and dry straw hair.
People say, in order to be encouraging, that Nick will be perfect and made new when I see him again.
But he already was perfect.
I find myself worrying and asking questions that cannot be answered. If I die before the rapture, will I have a chance to see Nick as I knew him before he’s “made new”? How can he be “Nick” without his wonderful little foot and beautiful crooked stance? Is he still little now or did I miss everything I ever looked forward to and he’s shot into adulthood leaving me behind?
I was thinking all these thoughts and more as I drove by Nick’s grave today. I was shocked to tears when I’m sure I heard him respond to my longing and grief…
“Do you trust God, Mom? Then please don’t worry. He knows how much you love me – He gave you that love – and He will satisfy the desire you have more completely than you could ever dream. You still do not know what is here, but please trust God that He will satisfy all your needs. Be patient and peaceful – and, mom, - please don’t worry.”
If it’s possible, I think I love him even more…..
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