Chucking the Faith?

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.

It’s been eight months since Ann went to heaven. We’ve survived Mother’s Day, Ann’s birthday, Drew’s graduation and our annual hiking trip to Colorado; Drew’s leaving for college, Hannah’s first day of high school, Matt’s first day of middle school; our 23rd anniversary, Paul’s 21st birthday, Hannah’s first homecoming; Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years; and everything in between.

C. S. Lewis wrote these apt words after his wife died of cancer, “Her absence is like the sky, spread over everything.”

Thank you for the cards, emails and voice mails. Most have been left unanswered. I’m not unappreciative; I just haven’t had the energy or words to respond.

It’s difficult to know how to reply briefly to a “How are you doing?” inquiry. On the one hand I’d like to recite the unspoken thoughts, recorded by Max Lucado, of a father whose fourteen-year-old son was killed by a stray bullet. What he wanted to say was, “How do you think we are doing? Our son is dead, our life is miserable, and I wish the world would end.”

On the other hand, it’s only a white lie when I reply, “We’re surviving” to friends after worship on Sunday mornings. Even though the pain and grief, shock and loneliness is intense, we are functioning. I’ve been able to get out of bed and go to work. The kids are doing well in school. We haven’t turned to alcohol or drugs or sex to mask the pain. We are still choosing to walk with the Lord.

The following “Big 12 List” summarizes the reasons, looking back, as to why I haven’t chucked the Christian faith as a result of Ann’s death from cancer. This list is in no particular order, although first and last pairs are probably the most significant.

Big 12 List:

12. Prayers. Over 150 people emailed us on that Thursday, the day before Ann died, confirming that they would continue pray for her physical healing. Several were still praying a week later because they hadn’t received the news of her death. This knowledge has spared me the pain and guilt of falsely thinking that that her death resulted from a lack of prayer. In addition, many of you have confirmed that you are still praying for the kids and me. I can’t quantify or prove it, but I know your prayers have sustained us through the pain. Few of us, if any, truly understand the impact of those prayers. We’ll know in That Day (1 Cor. 13:12) and I’ll humbly thank you again.

11. Kindnesses. Gifts and cards, meals and gift cards, letters and phone calls. It’s difficult to stay angry at God because he has repeatedly shown us his love through the kind acts of his people.

10. Hiking. I took Hannah and Matt on a quick trip to Red River, New Mexico in June. At the end of July we returned to Rocky Mountain National Park for our annual family hiking trip. The magnificence of the mountains makes it difficult to persist in questioning the existence of God. Their magnitude reminds us that he is God and we are not. The unspoiled beauty is a shadow of the indescribable landscapes to be found on the renewed Earth. (See #1 below.)

9. 24-Hour Fitness. I joined a fitness club a few days after returning from Ann’s funeral. It gave me something to be obsessive about that didn’t require emotional energy. It has helped me to sweat out the stress and grief. It has kept my heart from clogging up again from the mass quantities of comfort food that I’m indulging in. (The report from my cardiologist a few weeks ago was great.)

8. Co-workers. Even though time is often a person’s most important commodity, co-workers from Tribridge (http://www.tribridge.com/) sacrificed over 300 hours of their own vacation time to provide me with additional time off. As a result I was able to delay returning to work until the first week of August. I’ve also been able to effectively work part-time most weeks, using the remaining vacation time to fill in the hours that I lack. It would be impossible to overstate the impact that this had on my being able to help re-orientate the kids to life without Ann and to grieve in a healthy way.

7. Our LifeGroup. Many from our home Bible study were in Ann’s ICU room during her last hours – praying, crying and encouraging Ann to go to be with Jesus. Several planned and participated in Ann’s memorial service, sharing treasured portraits of her life. One arranged for meals to be brought in several times per week for the last two and a half years. They painted our kitchen, replaced some mini-blinds and fixed my garage door when we were in Iowa for Ann’s funeral. Various moms have stepped in to be a mom to our kids at key events during this painful year. I really wonder if we could have survived without the love and care of these friends in our LifeGroup.

6. My Mom. Her little brother died before his first birthday. Her mom died of cancer. She has experienced grief first hand and she observed her dad as he grieved the death of his only son and his beloved wife. She has shown great empathy and she’s willing to bring up the subject that many avoid. I’ve developed a new sense of respect and appreciation for her these last months.

5. Dave & Jim. We’ve consumed a lot of Diet Coke and dessert together these last eight months. I’ve been able to honestly share my story, and they’ve graciously listened. According to experts on grieving, sharing one’s story is one of the most important factors for grieving in a healthy manner and becoming reoriented after the death of a loved one.

4. My Promise. I publically promised in a sermon in August 2007, that I would continue to serve the Lord, whether God physically healed Ann or allowed her to die of angiosarcoma. I feel compelled to make good on that promise.

3. My IPod. I started listening to an IPod during Ann’s chemo treatments to help me to block out hospital noise while I tried to get in a few hours of work. Over the last two and a half years, it has become my primary means of both keeping perspective and grieving. The artists affirm faith and articulate grief when I’m often not able to. I’m able to persevere in my story as I listen to theirs. The titles of these songs tell a story in themselves.

• I Still Miss You, I Still Believe, I Will Not be Moved, I Can Only Image.
• Held, Hold, Hanging On, Still, Storm, Breathe, Crawl, Anyway.
• Never Alone, My Deliverer, Deliver Me, Bring it On, One Day at a Time, Hide My Soul.
• God is In Control, God is God, God is With Us, Faithful God, In You, He’s Alive.
• Stand in the Rain, Beauty in the Pain, Oceans from the Rain, Cry on My Shoulder.
• With Hope, Our Hope Endures, My Hope is in You, Faith Like That, Walk by Faith.
• You Are My King, You are My Rock, You are My Stronghold, You are God Alone.
• Save A Place for Me, More than You’ll Ever Know, When We See Glory, No More Pain, Homesick, Glory Baby, Come to Jesus, Thank You.
• Praise You in This Storm, Praise You with the Dance, Blessed Be Your Name.

2. God’s Character. Two fundamental questions, that we’ve asked over and over, are “Does God Exist?” and “Is God Good?” If the biblical record is true, then we can resolutely answer these two questions in the affirmative. If it is not true, then what else do we have? And since I believe it is true, then I will align my theology with that record, rather than the pain of my circumstances.

1. The New Earth. I’ve been studying about the “New Earth” (the eternal heaven) in order to attempt to make sense out of Ann’s premature death. I now believe that after the Resurrection we’ll live in physical bodies on a renewed earth. We will not be disembodied spirits (or angels), but will be fully human and we’ll enjoy human friendships and activities. Thus, my relationship with Ann has not been extinguished, but only interrupted. One day Ann will introduce us to our three babies who were miscarried and we’ll introduce Ann to her grandkids. Then we’ll enjoy adventures on the New Earth in places like Colorado, Monterey, Alaska and Mongolia. Selfishness and irritability will never mar our relationship. Time constraints will never be a frustration. Neither cancer nor death will ever separate us again.


We visited Ann’s grave in Iowa a few days before Christmas. I read these words from Max Lucado (slightly paraphrased) as tears ran down my checks into the snow.

“When you drop your kids off at school, do you weep as though you’ll never see them again? When you drop your spouse at the store and park the car, do you bid a final forever farewell? No. When you say, ‘I’ll see you soon,’ you mean it.

When you stand in the cemetery and stare down Ann’s frozen headstone and promise, ‘I’ll see you soon,’ you speak truth. Reunion is a splinter of an eternal moment away.

There is no need for you ‘to grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope’ (1 Thess. 4:13).”


Revelation 21:1-4:
Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away… And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away."


Thank you for your continued prayers.

Love,
Howard, Paul, Drew, Hannah & Matt