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