Psalm 46:1

Reflections on the two years’ anniversary of Brandi’s death

I was deleting photos and videos from the Ipad the other night – viewing Brandi alive, loving, her creative and engaging ways with the kids, the creativity that was a part of our home.  And it made me smile – not without pain, for I miss her and all that she brought to our house, and I feel the gap as I realize what is missing from our life now, what I can’t fix, can’t replace, can’t do anything but remember it and miss it – but there was also a smile, a recognition of what a blessing she was to us and that we have been so enriched and shaped by the time with her.  It was a time of recalling God’s goodness to us – a past goodness, but wonderful beyond calculation.

It tapped into something else that has been a part of the past few weeks – I’m not sure quite why.  But I have sensed in my own heart something that I have not felt for a while – hopefulness.  Now biblical hope does not need my feelings for it to be true, and for the last two years (maybe more?) I’ve clung to that hope despite precious little feeling.  That is clinging to the hope connected to the truth of God – his faithfulness will not fail, his promises will come true, and his love is real, even when I don’t feel any of that.  But this hopefulness is engaging my heart in new ways – a new expectancy, a thaw in the damp cloud covering that has weighed on my heart.  Some spark that, after a long winter that spring may be coming.

Some of it is connected, I think (oddly to my mind), to my mom’s death.  I have shared before that Brandi’s death left me feeling like I don’t know who I am in some ways – I lost not only the present partnership but the future that we envisioned together.  And it has left me wondering who I am and how I begin to pursue a future path on my own.  Family is one of the places that we can tend to retreat in these times – though I didn’t actively think about that a lot, my mom’s death made me realize how important family has been, and the role of son to her has shaped me as well.  And now she is gone, I feel both more unmoored in a bad way, with more uncertainty, but also with a newfound sense of freedom, of being ready to move ahead with whatever the next step in the journey would hold. 

I have had a number of notes and letters recently – one in particular that I want to quote:

"Weeping may endure for the night, but joy comes in the morning."

We don't often know how long our particular "nights" will be, nor when our "mornings" will dawn, but the timeline of eternity makes this promise, and for that reason we can have hope and persevere. That said, I do pray whatever your current "night," that it will end and your morning will come, with a joy and peace that surpasses your wildest expectations.

Then from Spurgeon:  There is One who careth for you. His eye is fixed on you, his heart beats with pity for your woe, and his hand omnipotent shall yet bring you the needed help. The darkest cloud shall scatter itself in showers of mercy. The blackest gloom shall give place to the morning. He, if thou art one of his family, will bind up thy wounds, and heal thy broken heart. Doubt not his grace because of thy tribulation, but believe that he loveth thee as much in seasons of trouble as in times of happiness. 

(thanks, James, for these!)

So if you would, join with me in praying for this – for a season of renewal, a season of resurrection, of life springing up in my heart toward the Lord, and then from that to the kids and others.  Pray for a season of joy after the night.  I know my last post was pretty raw – and there are moments, and days, that are mostly colored by that…but there has also been this new stirring, and I would ask you to join with me that it might come to pass, and be real.

Brief kids update:

 

Kids at winter school show

Many of you ask me how the kids are doing.  Generally, they are doing great – I just today received an email from their Sunday School teacher sharing of their engagement with spiritual things, and their teachers share that they are a joy to have in school.  I am thankful for all of this. This past week they have shown some signs of the emotional stress that I have come to expect on these anniversaries – though they don’t talk about it (I have to do that to them), I think that my mom’s death on top of this season has made them both a bit more “on edge” emotionally.  Pray for them, for God’s comfort to be theirs.  Pray for me, for patience and grace, for wisdom and discernment on when to help them with boundaries and discipline and when to give them a place to feel and grieve even if they don’t know what it is about. 

Thank you all, friends, for your prayers!