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March 30, 2002
It's Saturday morning. Everyone is still asleep. It's thundering and lightning outside. But the Lord is here with me. It's really cool, for so long now it seems like it's been sunny and beautiful outside but the storm was always raging inside of me... today it has changed, maybe for just a moment but I will enjoy his presence as I am able to feel. Today for some sweet reason of His, I FEEL. Today, the storm is outside and the quiet peace is inside.
I have had a reoccurring dream ever since Levi died. In this dream I am at Levi's tombstone. I am crying over his death. But then I do something strange. I stand and dance in worship before the Lord. I know that's strange but I do, as if to say I will worship you, I will praise you, I will trust that You are good, even in the death of my son... In my heart I have not yet been to a place that I could do such a thing. I have known in my head that He is good at all times but to dance before Him in my heart, to celebrate Him in this nightmare of mine... NO! I couldn't. I would start (in the dream) to dance but then tighten my arms to my side and stiffly walk away. But today, I feel HIM. Today my heart misses Levi terribly but I dance in my heart before the Lord. I know that tomorrow is coming and I could be in the slumps of grieving but for today. I dance. Today, I feel... It's amazing how great it is to feel when you haven't for so long.
There's a song by Natalie Grant, It is the expression of my heart: Oh Holy one, Father of the earth. Create in me a pure heart so I can come in spirit and in truth to worship you, that's what I long to do. I love to praise I love to lift your holy name from the rising of the sun and the going down of the same. Your name is great. I will bless you all my days because I love to praise. Oh Righteous one, lover of my soul , age to age forever still the same the sweetest light the sweetest melody, praising you is where I long to be. You are Holy and my lips will always sing your praise... You are worthy....
The other day Graci and I were out working in the yard. Levi, Graci and I used to do that together while Caleb and Jonah were at school. But this time it was just Graci and me. It was obvious to both of us that "someone" was missing. So, to break the silence I said, "I miss Levi, how 'bout you?" She was looking at the ground and never looked up she just said, "Yeah, I miss him so bad but Jesus 'gots' him, no fair." How sweet is that? We sat down for a while and just talked. We talked about how great it will be when Jesus "gots" us all and we'll never have to be separated again. I love how free she is to talk about him. I love how The Lord brings healing to my heart through my other children. I see the power of God in the daily things. I see that even the smallest flicker of light will cut through the darkest night. That light is HIM. His beauty is ancient and yet so new. I am like someone who was in a tragic accident and has been paralyzed for months, without feeling in his arms and legs. But today, he can feel his toes and he screams to the nurse, "I feel something, I feel something!!!" I just wanted to share it with you.
"The Lord will fulfill His purpose for me; Your love, O Lord, endures forever--- do not abandon the works of Your hands." Psalms 137:8
This is totally off the subject but I just heard the news that we (the U.S.) have agreed with the UN security counsel resolution to call for the removal of Israeli troops from Palestine. In other words we have turned our backs on Israel. That is really BIG and really BAD. Zechariah 12:3 says. "On that day, when all the nations of the earth are gathered against her, I will make Jerusalem an immovable rock for all the nations. All who try to move it will injure themselves." In Zechariah 12:9 it says, "On that day I will set out to destroy all the nations that attack Jerusalem." I have talked to some people who are not interested in what goes on in the middle east. They feel like "it's not our business." I have to say: It is our business. Everything that is happening in Israel is our business. It's all been prophesied so if I may just send a little warning to all Christians: Choose this day whom you will serve, the Lord God (of Israel and every true believer) or this country (the USA). Make no mistake about it, if we turn our hearts hard toward Israel we have turned our hearts cold to God Himself. If this seem a bit radical and a bit out of line then just read the Bible and you'll see... but remember: "Blessed are all who take refuge in Him." Psalm 2:12
jami
Today is the one year anniversary. One year ago today we went to Jonah's baseball practice, I remember watching Levi play with Graci, he would fall and Graci would help him up, then a few minutes later the same thing... he fell about 20 times in an hour. By the time practice was over he was completely avoiding using his left arm. Later that night when Jeff was praying with the kids upstairs I was walking into my bedroom and fell to the ground crying. I couldn't stop. It was that dry heave cry. The whole time I was sobbing I was thinking, "why am I crying, I don't know for sure anything is wrong so I've got to get a grip." After about 10 minutes I dried my eyes. Jan (our faithful Dr.) called. I told her what was happening... she said get to the hospital a.s.a.p... that was the beginning of the end.
"Time flies." That saying has new depth to it now. I've never had to say it with so much loss in the middle of the time that has flown by. As I look back at the beginning of our battle I see myself as fragile. I was fearful of so many things (one of which was one of my children dying). I am different now. Don't get me wrong. I still have fears but I have learned how to look them straight on and fight. Or maybe I should say I've learned who to stand behind...
I remember the first week of "diagnosis." Everyone kept saying "the Lord will make you stronger through this." I thought, "well, He'd better hurry up before I have a nervous breakdown." Now, I look back at my journal from "the beginning" and I see where my strength came from. It is clear that once again desperation for God was the key to survival. I held tightly to several verses but this one sums up where I was: " I cry out to God Most High, to God who fulfills His purpose for me." Ps 57:2 He is fulfilling His purpose for me and my family. I just never knew how hard it would be. We are all being changed through this pain... I know God is "good for" His promises. I just feel caught between the ways things were and the "promise." I figure I feel a lot like the Israelites did when they were in the desert wondering what had just happened. One day they were all excited about their new freedom and the next they were stuck in the desert. There's a song by Sarah Groves called "Painting Pictures of Egypt." The words are descriptive of how I (and the Israelites) feel. It goes like this: " I don't want to leave here and I don't want to stay, it feels like pinching either way... the place I was wasn't perfect but I had found a way to live. It wasn't milk and honey but then neither is this..."I'm caught between the promise and the things I know. I've been painting pictures of Egypt and leaving out what it lacks. The future seems so hard and I want to go back. But the places that used to fit me could never hold what I've learned. Those roads were closed off to me while my back was turned." Does that make sense? In other words: I know that His plan is perfect. I know that His promises are good (best). I know that who I was before this tragedy was not even a shadow of the person that He has intended for me to become. But I'm having a really hard time looking ahead. I'm having a hard time seeing that this "way" is good. I think I could "get it" if it weren't for the pain, the memories, the deep, deep, deep love I have for Levi. I think I could see the whole picture if I didn't long for something, anything to be the same as it was before. I even miss my other children. They're different now. Don't get me wrong. They are incredibly wonderful but they have been forced to "wise up" quickly. There is an innocence that was lost. There is a sadness hidden deep within their souls that I know is there. I want to "make it all better" for everyone but I can't. I am completely out of control. I am getting to some strange "phase" of grief where I miss Levi for everyone else. I see my sister (Lori) and how she misses the sweet bond they had, how she cries and wants "just one more chance" to hold him and look into his eyes. I miss him for her. I see my mom and dad's look of incompleteness when we go over for a visit and there's one less grandchild to come through the door. One less hug. One less kiss... I miss him for them. Jeff and Levi used to "wrestle" every night when he came home from work. I miss him for Jeff.. Caleb and Jonah used to run in the house and hug Levi every day when they came home from school. They scratched his back at night. They fed him when he really got sick... I miss him for them. Graci had the privilege of being his buddy and playmate everyday. Now there's only me and in comparison I'm boring. I miss him for her. I even see other children that used to play with Levi at the ballpark. They just look at me. I know they're wondering where he is. They don't ask, they just keep looking at me... nothing is said...I just cry behind my sunglasses wishing they could play together like they did last season. I miss him for them. I saw a friend the other day that I hadn't seen since last Summer. She came up to me and said, "Where's my baby?" I thought she was talking about Graci so I pointed toward Graci and said, "there she is." My friend said, "No, where's Levi?" I had to tell her he was dead. She buried her face in her hands and cried. We hugged and cried together at the baseball field.... I missed him for her.... I miss him for me... I miss him so bad.
Lord,
Surely this pain will serve as the refiners fire... surely You are purifying our hearts...surely you are bottling each tear that falls, even each tear that has yet to fall you know of. You are able to keep us from falling and to make us presentable before your glorious presence without fault and with great joy. (Jude 1:24)
jami
It's been almost 3 months since Levi left us. The cemetery and the "happenings" there have become very familiar to us. In the last three months there have been about 5 new people buried close to Levi. It seems like there are so many children. It's heartbreaking. I feel this urge to leave notes on the tombstones of the others and ask them to call me. I feel like I know them in a way because we share such an intimate place of brokenness.
I drove by the cemetery yesterday on my way to pick up the boys from school. There was a funeral going on right next to where Levi is buried. I wanted to go in and see who they were. I wanted to know their story. I wanted to hug someone. I called Jeff to tell him that there was "someone new" being buried close to Levi. He said, "I know, it's a baby." I was shocked that he knew. He had been there the day before and seen the new hole being dug. " It was a little tiny hole", he said. Man, that hurt. Just imagining the pain, the shock. The "not rightness" of it. Baby caskets shouldn't be... but they are and that really bothers me.
I planted new flowers in the yard yesterday. The pansies I pulled out were the same pansies that Levi and I planted together in the Fall. I remember, I laid a blanket out in the grass for him to lay on. We talked, laughed and planted. I loved that day. I loved having him there in it. I remember as we went inside after working in the yard all day.. .. I was carrying him in the door and time froze as I looked at the Maple tree in our front yard. The leaves were bright and beautiful, I loved the sight of it. But I knew the seasons were changing and soon the winds would come and blow those beautiful leaves far, far away. In my mind it had a much deeper meaning than horticulturaly speaking. I guess my heart had snuck down to the thought (before it had to) of what the coming seasons would bring... And so it has come to pass. The tree is bare. The grass is yellow. The leaves on the ground are brown. My heart is broken, barren, blowing back and forth with the wind. Levi is gone...
...But Spring is coming. The leaves will soon be green along with the grass. The geraniums will be bright red and the begonias pink. (Levi's favorite color was pink, it made me nervous that he liked pink instead of blue.) :) For him Spring has sprung. Surely Heaven is filled with all kinds of pink flowers and little boys can love them without people questioning their masculinity...
Graci and I took a walk around the neighborhood yesterday. We walked up to the pool where we have so many sweet memories of all the kids playing together. We sat on a big rock right outside the fence. We weren't talking we were just looking at the pool. I was wondering if she was thinking what I was thinking. Right then she said, "I miss Levi." It was confirmed. We were thinking the same thing....
As I imagined life without Levi that day I looked at the Maple tree and the promise of changing seasons it seemed unfathomable. How could we live without him. I still feel that way but I am learning to trust the Father with the unfathomable things in my life.
I'm learning, growing, changing...I know the Lord is using this pain in my heart to work out His plan. When the tragedy first began I would liken myself to the man who was driving a truck up a mountain. The winding roads dropped off 500 ft. The man was a nervous wreck. He was trying to keep his truck on the road but it became too much for him and he lost control. His truck slipped off the road and fell 500 ft and exploded into huge flames. The driver was thrown out of the truck and was holding onto a tree branch. As his body was dangling above the burning truck he called out to the road above him, "Is anybody up there?" The voice of God Himself said "Yes, I am here. I will help you but first you must trust me and let go of the branch." The man was silent in thought for a while. Then, he looked up toward the road again and said, "Is anybody else up there?" ----- That was me. That's still me in some ways... I could go on and on about all the things I've learned but the main thing is trust. I don't trust Him because I want to. I trust Him because I have to. I am at a humble place. It's the "where else do I go place?" Once again Job and I are together in this.... "then Job fell to the ground in worship and said, 'naked I came from my mothers womb and naked I will depart.' The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; May the name of the Lord be praised." Job 1:20-21
jami
I remember watching "Gone With The Wind" when I was a little girl. I always loved that movie/book. I remember being taken aback by life on the plantation. So many people constantly having parties, bar-b-que's, gatherings... It was a beautiful place full of color, life, love, beauty, ease and blessing.... I don't think there was a time that Scarlett (in her self absorbtion) took a minute to look out across the vast plantation and recognize the blessing of it... It wasn't until after the war, death and destruction that she stood up on the hill and looked out across the land to see what was left of the dream she had once lived. Now, it was gone, gone with the wind...
That's the way I feel. I look out across the desolation of my life. I close my eyes and see the "plantation" before. A beautiful and complete picture of blessing. But I open my eyes and scower my new truth, what is left. The "trees" in the field are still burning from the fire. The beautiful garden is no more. The house is falling apart from the attack. The beautiful dresses are now made out of old drapes instead of the finest store bought fabrics...there is death... It is such a sad and empty time. But it is now that Scarlett (me) has to grow up. She can no longer depend on others to serve her. She has to do it herself. She has to "pull herself up by the bootstraps." But I have one up on ole Scarlett, I know that I can't do it. The desolation is too great. I have to go further and depend on the hand of God Almighty. I am too weak to help myself and my family.
I'm not surprised by the disaster. I expected it. I knew that if we loved God and were committed to Him "come what may" we would be attacked. Elisabeth Elliot's husband, Jim was murdered while taking the gospel to the Auca Indians. She said this: "Every man and woman who chooses to trust and obey God will find his faith attacked and his life invaded by the power of evil. There is no more escape for us than there was for the Son of God. The way Jesus walked is the way we must walk. Again and again we will find ourselves looking to heaven in bewilderment and asking the old question "WHY?
"In this world you WILL have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." John 16:33
I still don't understand why the trouble comes. If I were God I would make the believers, the lovers of God have no trouble. But I guess if there were no trouble we wouldn't realize our deep need for Him... I don't know... I have so little knowledge, so little understanding of HIM. Evelyn Underhill said: "If God were small enough to be understood, He would not be big enough to be worshipped."
All this rambling to say: My life is desolate, I don't understand, I am sad and afraid... but I will worship Him.
jami
It was 20 degrees while I was sitting on Levi's grave. As I suspected it was incredibly eerie to see his name on a slab of granite. It seemed so inappropriate for his name to be among all those dead people. I never knew them, I never loved them, trusted them, honored them. But there they were right next to one of the most loved trusted and honored people in my life. They have no idea how blessed they are to be "associated" with even the shell of such an incredible little man...
I didn't stay there long because it was so cold and as I was sitting there it became more and more painfully obvious that he was not there. Of course, I already knew that but I guess I was hoping that something really special would happen while I was there. Like, I would see an angel that would say, "Why do you look for the living among the dead?" or maybe the Lord would give me some really cool encounter with His Spirit. I know I sound like I've lost my mind and maybe I have but remember I'm desperate so the sky is the limit to what I hope for.
When I drove away I felt like a negligent mom, leaving him there. How does your heart know that you are no longer responsible to take care of your child? It can't. It goes on longing to cuddle, hold, keep warm...love, take care of. Five years ago Levi was born on November 13. Also born on that day was this "mothers heart" for him. I feel like there should be a tombstone right next to his. It would read, "Here lies the heart of a mother, the rest of her still walks, breathes and lives but her heart died on the 20th day of December along with Levi"...
It's been over two months and I thought it might be a little easier by now. I'm not sure why I thought that but I was hoping I could at least look at his pictures without the feeling of a burning knife going through my heart. The knife is still there and hotter than ever. I look at pictures and it's so weird, the face that was so incredibly familiar is no longer something I see everyday. The chubby cheeks that I cleaned every day, the teeth that I brushed, the eyes that were there to meet me and look into my soul every morning, that little nose that had begun to look way too small for his newly large face... I saw it every day. It was "what I did." It had become "my day"... His face looking at me waiting patiently for his bath water to be run and his carrot juice to be juiced. It was all so "everyday" and now it's never. It's all a far away dream. I miss the "everyday-ness" of him, the expectancy of seeing him, knowing that he is right in the next room, right next to me on the couch or bed. I changed his broviac dressing every three days. Man, would I love to have that responsibility again. I go over it in my mind. I remember every detail of the process. I remember how he loved it. His eyes would close and he would say, "That feels so good, mommy." He would ask me several times a day when it would be time to change his dressing again. I'd say "We just changed it today." He would roll his eyes back in disappointment that it was so far away until the next "change." Then, he'd say, "I just love how it feels, it tickles"... Sweet little man didn't know that most kids hated having their dressing changed...
Pictures used to be sweet little reminders of how beautiful my children are. Now they are the most precious things I own. If the house were burning down I'd (we'd) grab the kids, my bible, the pictures and then my journals. The rest I could do without.
"We are under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despair even of life. Indeed, in our hearts we feel the sentence of death. But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead. (2 Corinthians 1:8,9). Lord, help me to rely on you. I have prayed that HE would be the air that I breathe. I didn't consider the fact that if He became my "air" I'd have to get used to breathing HIM instead of the air I was used to...
jami
I haven't written in a while because the last couple of days I've been struggling and didn't want to "talk." I have been hammering God with questions that I don't have answers for. He has seemed stoney silent and I've been MAD at Him. I mean, what's so difficult about a little communication, a little "presence?" I have been feeling like He doesn't love me because He doesn't seem to be "talking" to me these days.
Yesterday was Caleb's birthday, tonight we're having a spend the night party and tomorrow we're taking the kids to a skate park. I want Levi with us. I don't want to celebrate another year without him. But I can't have him and that is making me angry I guess. I feel frustrated that time is just going on. Pretty soon I'll need to let go (whatever that means) and continue life but I don't want to, I don't know how to. I feel like a traitor to Levi when things seem normal. This time next year maybe I won't cry everyday. But I want to. If he was worth loving he's worth grieving over for the rest of my life.
I have a picture on my dresser. It is a picture of Levi in ICU at the hospital. He has a ventilator in his mouth and an NG tube in his nose and various other tubes running in and out of his body. He's asleep and I am laying next to him, kissing him, holding him. It's my favorite picture because I'm doing in that picture what I would give all I own to do just one more time. I try to think about the fact that I will kiss him again in Heaven but I'm very "now" minded these days. I'm like a spoiled child. "I know I'll hold him again in Heaven, but what about now, what do I do about my feeling of empty arms?"
I was sitting on the couch in our den, reading, thinking, writing... I was at a loss for words to describe where I am in my relationship with the Lord. Graci went into the bathroom. I didn't think much of it. Then, I heard her hitting the toilet paper roll. She does that all the time when there's no more toilet paper. There she is sitting on the toilet, finished with her "business" and then she notices that there's no paper. Most would yell out "hey, if anyone is out there could you get me some paper?" or maybe even just get up and go get some herself. But no, she just keeps hitting the card board roll. I guess she thinks if she hits it enough then paper will just sprout forth....I know that's a weird story to tell but that's where I am in my relationship with HIM. I just keep "hitting the roll" hoping that my needs will be met, that out of the blue His presence will overwhelm me and I will feel again and the pain and emptiness will be more bearable. But no....nothing...
I have another mental picture that I have painted that helps express where I am. It's the age old potter and the clay analogy. Of course, He is the Potter and I am the clay. I was a vase. I was on the wheel, spinning. I had shape from the trials in my life. I wasn't perfect, I wasn't beautiful but I had character. I was growing and changing...but then out of the blue he got that string that potters use to cut clay and He just leveled me. He just cut me off the wheel so low there's nothing left but the wheel and a little clay residue. So, here I am trying to get my bearings on what just happened...????
I am so confused right now. Just when I think I should be healing I run into a wall of sadness and notice my incredible lack of understanding. What is God doing? What is He thinking? Does anyone really "know" Him? Will we ever understand any part of Him? "I am bedraggled, beat-up and burnt-out. I am an inconsistent, unsteady disciple whose 'cheese is falling off her cracker'. I am bent and bruised, feeling like my life is a grave disappointment to God." (Brennan Manning)
I read a verse that really encouraged me today: This is what the Lord says; "Let not the wise man boast of his wisdom or the strong man boast of his strength or the rich man boast of his riches, but let him who boasts boast about this: that he UNDERSTANDS and KNOWS me..." Jeremiah 9:23-24 There is hope!!! To me, this insinuates that we can know and understand Him to some extent. I don't need to "know and understand" all. Just something, anything... Madame Jeanne Guyon said, "If knowing answers to life's questions is absolutely necessary to you, then forget the journey, You will never make it, for this is a journey of unknowables—of unanswered questions, enigmas, incomprehensibles. And most of all, things unfair." I agree partially but not completely. If we just sit back and say "it's just that way" we miss the "wrestling match." It is true that we might not have all the answers but isn't it also true that we "find" more of Him in the desperate search for answers?
A Scottish preacher was preaching a sermon after the sudden loss of his wife. He admitted that he did not understand this life of ours. But still less could he understand how people facing loss could abandon faith. "Abandon it for what!" he said. "You people in the sunshine may believe the faith, but we in the shadow MUST believe it. We have nothing else." I've never met this preacher but I "know" him. Just like I "know" Job. Just like I "know" every other shadow dweller. We are the desperate souls trapped in the desert hoping for rain. But you know the cool thing that I've noticed about the desperate? They get the good stuff if they wait long enough. Like Job. He was described as a "perfect man." Perfect!! He communed with God. But it wasn't until after He had gone through "the desert", "the nightmare","the dark night of the soul" that he saw God anew. Remember what he said? He said: "My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have seen you." (Job 42:5). I'm still waiting for the time when my eyes will "see" Him.
I know this is just a lot of rambling thoughts but the lack of organization represents the state of my heart. Some days all I know is that I miss Levi. Other days all I know is that I miss the way things used to be between me and my Heavenly Father. Today, it's both. I long to feel God love me and I long to let Levi feel I love him...
jami