A New Beginning, or It's So Hard to Say Goodbye to Yesterday

“The time has come," the Walrus said,


"To talk of many things:

Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--

Of cabbages--and kings…….”

The words here have been spoken not only in a poem, but by many who have wished to garner the attention of any and all that they wish to listen. The time has come – a phrase that leaves you attendant, ready for the next moment of clarity, hoping and waiting with baited breath to hear what will come next.

It is with joy, and sorrow, sadness and excitement that the Mills family will be leaving Fort Worth in a week’s time. On July 11, 2013, we embark on the next part of our journey on this earth, and move our little family to Springdale, Arkansas. There are many reasons for this move, and I will elaborate on those in a moment. I want to take a few paragraphs to wax poetically, or at least say a few thank you’s and goodbyes to those who have brought meaning into our lives over the past 7-12 years.

To my friends and family from Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary – you took me in, showed me what it meant to really dig into the Scriptures, and seek out the Lord where He is and where He is working. I am forever grateful for my time with you and those years meant so much to me. I met some lifelong friends there, and will always cherish my experience at SWBTS.

To all the people in my life that I met through Wedgwood Baptist Church – where do I even begin? You saw something in me and allowed me to be a part of your family from the beginning. You gave me a chance to sing, to lead, to speak, to teach, to be a part of an amazing youth ministry – to make a difference and let God use me like I never had been before. Peru and Ukraine would never have been possibilities without you, and that would have been a terrible loss. Youth Camps, Mission Tours, Sunday School, Youth Events, Praise Team, Choir – I know there was more, but you get the point. I will always be a Wedgie, and hey, I even proposed to my wife and got married there!!! There are so many people to think about and be thankful for, so I’ll just say it like this – to my Wedgwood family, I was so blessed to have been a part of your lives and your world for the 6 years I was there. I can only hope and pray that I was able to make a difference to you in the same ways that you built into me. I love you all.

Meadowridge – you took Whitnee and I in for just a short time, but we were blessed to be a part of your fellowship and so thankful for the love that you showed us. God bless you all!!

Travis Avenue – you were our home for the darkest time in our lives, the death of our daughter. We thank God for the kindness and understanding that you showed us for a long time. You were also our home when we were incredibly blessed with our son, and we dedicated him to the Lord under your roof. Thank you so very much for allowing me to deal with grief and sorrow while leading in worship. That chance helped to keep me grounded when I needed it.

To the Fort Worth Museum of Science and History – you have been my creative home now for 12 years!! Whether it was part time, full time, or just as your resident Mad Scientist, you gave me the space, the time, and leadership I needed to come into my own as a performer and as an educator. I can honestly say I would not be who I am right now without the work I was able to do with you. From the floor staff to Design IT to the NANO Project, to STAR WARS and the Mad Scientists Ball, you gave me the creative outlet to explore and create new learning experiences that are part of my repertoire today! I love you all and I do hope our paths cross again one day!

To the Fort Worth ISD – it has been 6 years since you enticed me to come work with you, and I am truly blessed to have been a part of your family. From my beginnings at Trimble Tech to winning the Science Chair and Teacher of the Year all the way to the Admin building working on curriculum and professional development – it has been an amazing ride! My career as an educator has been strengthened by my time here, and I have learned so much from so many people! There are so many teachers and educators who have built into my life, and my toolkit for teaching, I wish I could thank you all by name. You held up my wife and I when we lost our daughter and you rejoiced with us when we gave birth to our son. You gave me a chance to become better than I was, and I will carry on that tradition as I go. Thank you so much!

Some of my best friends live here in Fort Worth. You know who you are. I will miss you so much and I desperately want to keep in touch through social media! I know it won’t be easy, but you are family to me.

I know that our leaving Fort Worth won’t matter to a lot of people. That’s ok. I want to say something that might be a few years too late, but I need to say it anyway. To the people who we may have let down by retreating from everything after Lydia died, to the people who tried to hold out your hands to us and we just couldn’t come out of the shell, to the people who moved on with their lives as they should have – I am so sorry. Trying to survive is something that we never expected to have to do. We lost touch with so many people, and we know that we pushed people away as well. Forgive us. We apologize.

Fort Worth has been my home for the last 12 years, to Whitnee and I the entire 7 years of our marriage, and it is the place where our children were born. Fort Worth will always hold a piece of us, a piece of me. We laid Lydia to rest here. We saw our son Micah take his first steps here. Fort Worth has been home. We do not leave you lightly and without purpose.



Whitnee, Micah, and I are moving to Springdale, Arkansas to be closer to family. Whitnee has many family members in that area, and we have been blessed with the opportunity to get to be with them. There are many unknowns, but the prospect of seeing our son grow up with family nearby is a consummation that we have devoutly wished for, for so many years. I want to thank the Hager family for their incredible support of us making this move, and I want to thank my family, the Mills, for their support in all of this as well. We love you both, and whether it’s a few miles away or Skyping across the miles we want Micah to know his grandparents as much as he can!!

I will be taking a science teacher job at Elkins High School, outside of Fayetteville. We thank God for opening the door for me to have this job, and we ask Him to help us as we adjust to a new way of life. Micah will be going to a new daycare, and we pray that his transition will be smooth. We are praying now for a new church home, a new church family to belong to, and someone to rent our house here in Fort Worth. God has been faithful through this whole process, and we are so grateful to see Him move in this way.

If we made a difference in your life, we are blessed to have had the opportunity. If you have made a difference in ours, I hope we have told you along the way. We will see you all on Facebook, on Twitter, maybe on Skype, but we want you all to know that you will be missed, and we covet your prayers as we go. Kyrie Eleison down the road that we all must travel.

I love you all.

Jonathon Mills



P.S. – The time has come, the walrus said… to start living again!!

Music Speaks to the darkest part of the soul

This is short, but I wanted to share these pieces with you. Natalie Grant, thank you for your words and music. You'll never know just how much these songs mean to me. They speak to who and what I am right now, the dichotomy of faith and madness. Thank you so much.
Both of these pieces truly describe my state of mind. THank you Jesus, for inspiring both of these songs.

Natalie Grant » Held Lyrics
Two months is too little
They let him go
They had no sudden healing
To think that providence
Would take a child from his mother
While she prays, is appalling
Who told us we'd be rescued
What has changed and
Why should we be saved from nightmares
Were asking why this happens to us
Who have died to live, it's unfair
This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was that when everything fell
We'd be held
This hand is bitterness
We want to taste it and
Let the hatred numb our sorrows
The wise hand opens slowly
To lilies of the valley and tomorrow
This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was that when everything fell
We'd be held
If hope if born of suffering
If this is only the beginning
Can we not wait, for one hour
Watching for our savior
This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was that when everything fell
We'd be held


Natalie Grant - I Will Not Be Moved
I have been the wayward child
I have acted out
I have questioned Sovereignty
And had my share of doubt
And though sometimes my prayers feel like
They're bouncing off the sky
The hand I hold won't let me go
And is the reason why...

[Chorus:]
I will stumble
I will fall down
But I will not be moved
I will make mistakes
I will face heartache
But I will not be moved
On Christ the Solid Rock I stand
All other ground is sinking sand
I will not be moved

Bitterness has plagued my heart
Many times before
My life has been like broken glass
And I have kept the score
Of all my shattered dreams and though it seemed
That I was far too gone
My brokenness helped me to see
It's grace I'm standing on

[Chorus]

And the chaos in my life
Has been a badge I've worn
Though I have been torn
I will not be moved

Three months ago, a precious child was born!

Today is August 7, and Lydia would be three months old today. I’ve written and rewritten and deleted and erased things I’ve wanted to say for about three weeks now. I think I’ll just launch into it, and yes, I will continue the discussion of things I’m thankful for!

I’ve heard that time heals all wounds. I’ve learned throughout my life that taking this literally will set you up for heartbreak and seriously depressing thoughts. Time doesn’t heal anything – time gets away from us. There are days when I can go almost the whole day and completely occupy my time with thoughts that do not include Lydia, and I HATE that. However, my mind has to do that so I can function. No one can dwell on the tragedy in their lives 24 hours a day – they will become immobile. How do I know this, because I’ve swung from both ends of that pendulum. I’ve done immobile, and I’ve done insanely busy. I’ve sat in the recliner in my living room and cried over Lydia, and never gotten out of that recliner all day long. I’ve gotten out of bed and gone to work and to the gym and the store and cleaned house, and focused all of my energies on those things just so I didn’t have to think about what happened to Lydia. Time does not heal wounds. Time lets us waste ourselves.

See, if Lydia were here, the plan was for Whitnee to have her at home for a few weeks and I would finish out the school year. Then, we’d have about a week or two at home with Lydia together before Whitnee went back to work. Whitnee would go back to work, and I would take care of Lydia two days a week, while sending her to daycare three days each week so that we could reserve her spot for the upcoming school year. My job this summer was to take care of my daughter for most of the time my wife was at work. I was left not with my daughter, but with time. Time sucks. I had a different phrase here, another description of my time alone, but since I’m not yet as cool as Derek Webb, I’ll keep that one to myself.

The door to the nursery has been closed for a while. We’ve been in there a few times, sat in the chairs, touched her things, and held the teddy bear we bought for her and the stuffed frog she was given. We’ve cried until we can’t do it anymore, and some days it doesn’t take much to set the waterworks off again. How do we stay connected to her as the time passes? I don’t know. I don’t want to lose her in my mind’s eye. I have our pictures, and the music, and the cards, and letters, and all these things are comforting and damning all at the same time. Comfort comes from knowing I am still connected to my daughter through them all, and damning because I have to let these temporal things suffice for her. I couldn’t save her.

I wear a ring right now with a Greek Style cross on it, and it has her name engraved on the inside. It was my Father’s Day present, and even though she never touched it, she touched my hands, and that I will remember. Lydia’s death has driven me to the darkest point I think I’ve ever been in – I’ve been alone even in a room full of people, because I carry a burden that no one should have to carry. I’ve now been a part of a circumstance where two people have lost their lives. The first was the drunken driver that hit my brother and me when I was 16 years old. He died in the accident, and I have no actual memory of the event itself. What does that have to do with Lydia? I remember everything about her death, and it haunts me. I will one day have the strength to write my feelings about the details but today I’m not ready. I need to think about the good things that I can, not dwell on the darkness that waits for me in my mind. Jesus, I pray that You will heal my mind, and help me to dwell on You during those times when I just can’t seem to think about anything but the awfulness of Lydia’s death.

What good things can I think about? Well, how about things I can thank God for? Yes, I can thank the Lord for a lot during this time. I started earlier, and I want to keep going. I need to say thank you to the people of Mountain View Baptist Church, for being our church family in Alabama, and for holding us up in prayer. All your prayers and gifts were appreciated so much! Even across the miles your prayers were felt by us! I want to thank all our family and friends on Facebook – Thank God for Facebook! Without this utility we would never have been able to reach out and be touched by so many people. God bless you all!

I want to thank the doctors and nurses at Baylor Hospital Downtown Fort Worth, and At Cooks Children’s Hospital in Fort Worth. To Doug Pace and Dr. Grubbs – thank you for your prayers and guidance while Whitnee and I had to make some really hard decisions for her. To the most amazing nurses in the entire world, the NICU nurses at Cook’s Children’s – you are exactly where God needs you to be, and He has blessed so many families through your care of their children. We were blessed to have you taking care of Lydia. Special thanks go out to Laura, Kristina, Kim, Rhonda, and Alanna – your kindness, generosity, openness, honesty, and caring blessed us as we held our baby girl, and even when we had to be away from her. Knowing that you were taking care of her gave us comfort, because we knew the Lord had given you the calling to be with her. Kim and Alanna – I believe the two of you were with us the last two days of Lydia’s life, and Kim, I know it was you that sat with us the day she died. God bless you both. I can’t imagine a tougher job, but God gave you strength to be with us, and your strength showed us God’s love in the darkest days we’ve known. Thank you. Also, to Kristina, Rhonda, and Alanna – thank you for blessing us yet again by being with us at Lydia’s Funeral. Your prayers and support for us meant more than we could ever say. I pray that you will all continue to bless other families as their children need Godly people caring for them.

To my family at Trimble Tech High school – I could not ask for a more understanding and amazing group of people to work with! Your prayers and support for me and my family have been and still are overwhelming to us. You are truly part of my family, and I a part of yours. I will forever be a Bulldog with you all, and your support in the months to come will be invaluable to us as I come back to begin a new year. To those of my students that might ever see this – thank you for your kind words, your prayers, and the amazing support you showed me when I had to leave. I hated not being able to finish our year, but knowing you were thinking of us made me so thankful to have been your teacher.

The Lord is opening my eyes once again, to see the Son instead of the eclipse in my life (thank you Stryper for the amazing song) and He has given me a chance to once again stand up in front of my church family, and sing for Him. I will sing YOUR GRACE IS ENOUGH, and HOLY SPIRIT RAIN DOWN this week. I pray that God will give me the strength to do what He has called me to do. Maybe I need to sing for myself, to see if I still can, but more than that, I know God has called me to sing for Him, to lead people into the throne room of worship, and in my brokenness, I will pray that God give me the strength to do that. Thank you Jesus for all you’ve done in our lives. Hold on to my little girl. Let her see her daddy sing tomorrow. I hope she’s proud of me, and I pray You will use me to bring others into Your presence.

More to follow – this journey is far from over!

Joy, Sorrow, and how to find thankfulness Part 1

Today is the two month anniversary of Lydia’s Death. I’m struggling today and so is Whitnee. I thought that maybe I would help myself talk about her life and death today, just to remember. I need to remember. I want to remember, and never forget. Some people might say “what do you mean forget?” It’s no secret that the mind sometimes holds onto details and others become very fuzzy with time. I want to just share a few details here that I remember, so that I can relate the joy I had when she was born, and not just the sorrow I felt in her death.

I’ll never forget when they put Lydia in my hands. She was so precious, so pretty! I cried sitting there, just praying over and over again that I was so thankful for her and that Jesus loved her. She was my baby – my perfect beautiful baby! I have pictures of her right after her birth, and I couldn’t believe all the hair she had! Oh, Jesus, thank you so much for this beautiful gift! I prayed that I would have the strength not to screw up her life too bad. I had so many hopes for her – and I wanted to dance with her. I imagined Lydia’s little feet on top of mine, dancing around the living room. I imagined CINDERELLA, by Steven Curtis Chapman. I wanted that so much. I was so happy, getting to text and call people to tell them she was here. I saw the joy in my parents and Whitnee’s parents as they got to hold her for a brief moment before she was going to feed. I’ll never forget those few moments of joy that I felt when I saw Whitnee holding her for the first time.

All that changed so soon – I didn’t even have time to think that my joy was turning to sorrow. I don’t want to talk so much right now about her short life – but I want to start saying thank you. I need to say thank you to so many people, and yet I’m struggling so many days to find the right words and the right way to do it. Paul writes in 1 Thessalonians that we are to be thankful IN all things, and so today as I’m fighting to remember joy, I’ll start by finding things to be thankful for. I’m thankful for my family – for all the problems we had leading up to the birth of Lydia, I love you all so much! Your prayers, tears, and support of us mean more than we will ever be able to put into words. I love you mom and dad! I love you pam and jim!

I want to say thank you to Dr. Dean and our church family from Travis Avenue. Your outpouring of love was more than we ever thought possible. To Randy and Cindy – thank you for your unwavering support and prayers, and for galvanizing our Sunday school classes to do everything that they did. I want to thank all our Sunday school friends from Travis – we did not know how much love everyone had to give, and we were overwhelmed. To our Wedgwood family – we truly are still one of you, and to Bro. Al, the Ross family, the Griffins, and everyone else, we love you all so much!

Thank you Dave and Cindy, Cody, Sarah, Angel, David and Kelly, and all others who just showed up at our house when we were falling apart, and barely breathing. Your love means more to us than we will ever be able to say. Dave Scott – the words you spoke in my ear through your tears that night were raw, and honest, and I’m grateful that we have that kind of brotherhood. To Archie – my brother, I can’t believe you got on a plane and came here. I’ll forever be thankful for our friendship.

This is by no means the end, but the beginning. I will write more later. I have so many more people to thank, and this is how joy can begin again. Jesus, please help me see more things that I can be thankful for right now. I’m looking through my tears, and things aren’t so clear.

Lydia, Daddy loves you, and I hope you’re dancing soon!

Fear and Darkness

Who am I right now? At this very moment in time, who am I? Am I a child of God? Am I a husband? Am I really a father? Do these labels actually mean something in my life? I’ll answer that later. I’ve had a lot of time to think about who I am and what I’m feeling, and I know for sure that these names hold very much meaning for me, but I’m still working it all out. I know I have anger at times, and rage, and fear, and all emotions in between. How do I talk about those things without completely scaring off people and worrying my family and friends? Maybe I just tell it like it is and let others judge for themselves. I wrote the following about two weeks ago, maybe longer, and I’ve had some time to think about it, but I want to post it here anyway, because it’s important to see the progression of what I’m going through. Please understand if you are reading this, you may read something that makes you uncomfortable and you may see something that you never thought you’d see come from me. Just a fair warning – dark tunnels ahead.

There is an anger, a rage that comes over a man when he feels out of control. When uncertainty reigns and nothing is as it should be, a beast awakens. I am a man, a husband, and yes, a father. I’m supposed to be able to take care of my wife. I’m supposed to be able to protect her. I’m supposed to be able to protect both my wife and my daughter. In one completely devastating moment, I couldn’t do either of those things. That was when my world fell apart. The rest of what was left of me slowly crumbled away piece by piece over the course of 14 days. The beast is awake!!

How do I begin to heal? How do I try to heal my heart, my soul, my relationship with Whitnee? I love my wife more than my own life, and I’m constantly afraid that I’m gonna say or do the wrong thing right now and cause a fracture between us in some way. My fears are many, and this is always at the top of the list. My second fear is that I didn’t do enough to take care of Whitnee while she was pregnant, and she is afraid that she can’t trust me to take care of her now. It’s not her fear – it’s mine. Another fear I have that I will never be a man who could actually keep his family safe. I lost my daughter and I almost lost my wife. Can I truly be the man I must be? The man who loves and cherishes his family as much as I did, and currently do – this man could not save his own daughter from the monsters. What if something like this happens again? What if I can’t protect my family?

Where do all these fears come from? They come from watching my Lydia cling to life from an ICU bed. They come from a moment in time where I had a wife in one hospital and a daughter in another. They come from a doctor telling me that my wife shouldn’t be alive because of the infections she got in the hospital. They come from trying to help my daughter relax knowing that she would not. They come from getting up every morning for 14 days and feeling that ICU bracelet on my arm, not knowing if today would be my last day with Lydia. A few things that everyone needs to know – yes it’s true, Whitnee almost died as well. I almost walked out of that hospital with no daughter and no wife. I don’t know if Lydia ever really understood how much she was loved by her parents – she stopped responding to so many things pretty quickly. The day we took her off the ventilator Whitnee and I watched as she struggled to survive, and I have nightmares about her gasping for breath. I wanted to make her pain go away and I couldn’t. I couldn’t take it from her. I couldn’t make it better. That’s what daddies are supposed to do – I’m supposed to make it better! She’s supposed to be safe when she’s near me, and the only look I can remember from Lydia when I close my eyes at night is filled with pain. I imagine if she could talk she would’ve said “please, daddy, make it go away!”

I wasn’t strong enough to save her. I’ve never prayed so hard in my life for anything. I obeyed the Lord and He told us to pray for her healing. We did that, and at the time there was a moment where I felt like He wasn’t listening, and I was angry! I wanted my daughter to live!!! I’ve never been in a hole so dark and deep that I couldn’t see any light until that moment – the moment I knew she wasn’t going to survive. And, yet, in spite of all the darkness, there was a moment of light. There was a moment where I knew that the faith in the Lord Jesus that I have clung to my whole life, the truth of who God is, came into focus and spoke strength to my spirit and my body and said to me that she would be healed and whole. I know she is. I know where she is. I know the One who holds her even now. God healed my baby by taking her home to be with Him. Knowing this, however, does not diminish the sorrow of loss and the fear of what’s to come.

Lydia stopped breathing in the arms of my wife. Her heart stopped in my arms. I like to think that she gave us each a gift before she left – Whitnee her last breath, and I truly held the last beat of her heart. I’m a broken mirror, a thousand shards of glass to be cleaned up. Some days I’m just barely holding on, but I’m doing my very best to keep holding on to my wife, and my Lord,. I know He’s holding on to me.

Lifehouse has a song called Broken – I’ve printed the words below. It’s how I am right now. Things will get better.

"Broken"

The broken clock is a comfort, it helps me sleep tonight
Maybe it can stop tomorrow from stealing all my time
I am here still waiting though I still have my doubts
I am damaged at best, like you've already figured out

I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing
With a broken heart that's still beating
In the pain, there is healing
In your name I find meaning
So I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on
I'm barely holdin' on to you

The broken locks were a warning you got inside my head
I tried my best to be guarded, I'm an open book instead
I still see your reflection inside of my eyes
That are looking for a purpose, they're still looking for life

I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing
with a broken heart that's still beating
In the pain (in the pain), is there healing
In your name (in your name) I find meaning
So I'm holdin' on (I'm still holdin'), I'm holdin' on (I'm still holdin'), I'm holdin' on (I'm still holdin')
I'm barely holdin' on to you

Needs To Be Said

There are so many things I want to get off my chest, and I really don’t know where to start, so I’ll just write and let the proverbial chips fall where they may. There are a few things I want to let everyone know who is reading this blog, and yes, I want to hear and see myself say it as well. Let me start this off by saying that Psalm 121 has become a wonderful comfort to me during this time of grief. My help comes from the Lord, and it is only by His grace and power that I can write with a purpose. I’d like to take this opportunity to lay to rest some of the fears of other people about Whitnee and I during this time. I wasn’t really prepared for the sheer number of worries that people would have about us, nor was I ready for the actual concerns of some people. I was also not prepared for some of the silly, and sometimes downright stupid things that some people have said to us. (I will talk about that later.) I’m sure some of you know what I’m talking about, because your own family and friends have said things to you during a hard time that just seemed a bit off. It’s ok that they happen – those closest to us want to be there for us, and those not so close may just not know what to say at all.

Let’s deal with this first – no one should let their fear of saying the wrong thing drive them to just steer clear of any type of conversation with us. Do you have any idea what it’s like to look someone in the eye, knowing they want to talk, say something, ask a question, but watch their own fear wash over their face and cause them to just keep walking by? Do you have any idea how lonely that can be? Let me define what loneliness is to me right now. Loneliness is knowing all of what I have just stated, and knowing the some people still won’t talk to you . Loneliness is not knowing how to tell your friends with small children that no matter how much you love them, being around them right now is just too hard. It will get better, and true friendships are gonna stand through this time. Loneliness is watching television and hearing the news stories of people who have mistreated, abused, and hurt their children and wondering why those people got to have any in the first place. Loneliness is knowing that God is working in my life to help me heal and feeling like someone expects you to be “over it already.” I could go on, but what is the point I’m trying to make? Talk to me. Call me. Email me. Invite me out to do stupid things. Laughter is a huge part of my healing process. I’m still me – there’s just a new part to me now. YES – there are very dark, very tragic things in my life and IT IS TERRIBLE! The only thing that makes the loss of Lydia more terrible is Whitnee and I waking up thinking about how many faces we’ll see today of people that are too afraid to engage with us.
(You may not be someone who falls into this category – we’ve had so many people encourage us in so many ways, and we are so thankful!!) I’m sure I’ll have more to say on this later, but let me move on.

Two: My daughter Lydia is dead. She was beautiful, and wonderful, and I love her so much. I can’t look at her picture or even write this right now without crying because I miss her so much. What happened to her, and to us was extremely horrible by any stretch of the imagination. To watch my daughter suffer as she did, and to know that the only thing I could do for her was to let her go – the pain is indescribable. Yet through all this, let me make one thing perfectly clear – IT WAS NOT GOD’S PLAN THAT MY DAUGHTER DIE. God did not create Lydia to subsequently destroy her. Scripture shows me where people are and have been afflicted with thorns, illnesses, and tragedies for God’s greater purposes and plans, and I know that. However, our world is fallen, sin taints us all, and BAD THINGS HAPPEN HERE. The Lord works in all things to bring about His glory, and He is working in this tragedy to bring glory to Himself. I know this. I see it everyday. In the beginning it was not God’s plan that any should perish – death is NOT the natural order of things. Death is a product of the sinful world we inhabit. Again, I have more to say on this, but I will conclude this short paragraph with this: Lydia is with Jesus, I will see her again one day for who she really is, and her death has left a hole in my heart. God is walking with me (and Whitnee) through our suffering. He did not cause our suffering.

Third (and final for now): As soon as Lydia got very sick, there were some concerns that my faith and Whitnee’s faith would waver, and some even said that they were afraid we would lose our faith in Christ over Lydia’s death. I can understand the concern – our culture breeds this message. Even a psychology book that we’ve read speaks of people finding comfort in thinking of God as no more in control than they are. Let me make it clear – true faith is not real faith if it can’t get through a tragedy. If all it takes is something bad to happen to make you lose faith in God, then I don’t think that faith was built on any truth, or it just wasn’t real. Questioning God is perfectly normal, and it’s what we’re gonna do. David did it, Job did it, Paul did it, JESUS DID IT in the garden – I think we’re in good company. I’m nowhere close to any of the men of faith listed here, but if Christ lives in me, then it’s ok for me to question God as to what’s going on and why this happened. It’s not about losing my faith at all. Truth didn’t stop being truth because Lydia died. Theology is something you work on when you’re sober, and able to think clearly. Faith in the truth of Christ is what we stand on DURING the tragedy. One should never build a theology during a time of grief – it’s just not the time.

Building 429 has a song special to my heart – it’s called ALWAYS. I’ve reprinted the lyrics below, because they speak of where we are, and what we believe about our Lord. Thank you Jesus for inspiring them to write this!

Next time, how to deal with a caged animal, or how I feel most everyday because of my lack of control and my fears about myself.

Our journey continues…


Building 429Always lyrics
I was standing in the pouring rain
One dark November night
Fighting off the bitter cold
When she caught my eye
Her face was torn and her eyes were filled
And then to my surprise
She pulled out a photograph
And my heart just stopped inside
She said He would have been three today
I miss his smile, I miss his face
What was I supposed to say
But I believe always always
Our Savior never fails
Even when all hope is gone
God knows our pain and His promise remains
He will be with you always

He was living in a broken world
dreaming of a home
His heart was barely keeping pace
When I found him all alone
Remembering the way he felt
When his daddy said goodbye
Fighting just to keep the tears
And the anger locked inside
He's barely holding on to faith
But deliverance is on its way
'Cuz I believe always always
Our Savior never fails
Even when all hope is gone
God knows our pain and His promise remains
He will be with you always

Friend I don't know where you are
And I don't know where you've been
Maybe you're fighting for your life
Or just about to throw the towel in
But if you're crying out for mercy
If there's no hope left at all
If you've given everything you've got
And you're still about to fall
Well hold on, hold on, hold on

Cuz I believe always always
Our Savior never fails
Even when all faith is gone
God knows our pain and His promise remains
Always, Always
He will be with you always
He will be with you always
He will be with you

The Beginning

Here I am, the father of a beautiful baby girl. Here I am, the husband of a wonderful, beautiful wife. In this moment, where I pass my daughter to my wife, I am complete. God has smiled on me and has granted me the most wonderful family. Our parents are around the hospital bed, tears flow freely from every eye, and my wife cradles my daughter to feed. I have never been more happy, or more blessed.

Oh, how I wish this dream would never end, but if you are reading this, then you know this dream ends in apparent darkness. That happy moment would give way to disbelief, horror, and unspeakable grief in the loss of our dear Lydia Grace. I have played the whole 14 days over and over in my mind for over a month now, trying to find something, some shred of evidence that I overlooked to make some sense out of what has happened. I can’t. I wrestle with demons of my own inadequacy as a father, a husband, a protector, and the head of my family. Whitnee actually held Lydia in her arms as she took her last breath – her heart drummed its final beat in mine. Which one of us ushered her out of the shadowlands? We both did. The dark night of the soul had begun.

How did this play out? Writings to come will tell the tale from my perspective – the loving father whose burgeoning family was torn apart too soon. How long does the darkness last? It’s hard to say – too many shadows still remain. Is there hope? A light at the end of a tunnel? Something to be hoped for even though it is not seen? ABSOLUTELY!

God does not dwell in the dark – He is the Light. The shadows are only present because of obstacles trying to keep us from being in that Light. Lydia now knows Jesus in a way that I long for, that I am jealous of, and that one day she will share with me. Until then, I am left to have faith in Him, who yet unseen, is present in my life, my family’s life, and is transforming my heart from its shattered state to one of mended healing.

Do you know anything about a broken bone that has been healed? The newly healed bone is actually stronger than it was before the tragedy. I believe that Jesus, the Savior and Lord of my life, is working in the midst of our loss to create a man and woman, stronger than before. He will make us a family, tighter than before. It is in Jesus that we find the love to draw us closer together than ever. Make no mistake – it won’t feel good at first. It absolutely does not! BUT, He who began a good work in us IS INFINITELY FAITHFUL to complete that work, and I know He will.

Lydia, Daddy loves you, and hopes you don’t see him struggle so hard here in this world. I’ll see you soon.

Jesus, hold onto my daughter until I get there. She was always Yours.

Like the Scriptures say, one day we will see face to face….