Remembering......Death Equals Life

As Christ followers, Easter has always been a sweet celebration as we recognize the meaning of Christ's death and resurrection. He was the Sacrificial Lamb for us and because of that we have new life in Christ and a hope for our future.  Yet because of life events, it will forever have deeper meaning as our son now lives out the true reason we celebrate Easter.  But this Easter our minds and hearts are seared with a mixture of memories and hope; pain and joy.  We can't help but remember....

 

It was Good Friday, 2012 and I was standing in church worshiping with my family. We stood in a row, Tom, Ryan (20), me, Luke (15) and Amanda (18).   It was odd that Ryan was standing in between Tom and me but I remember the catch in my chest and the tears beginning to pool in my eyes as I felt the joy of that moment; our children standing with us, praising the Lord with exuberance.  As we were praying Ryan put his long arms around Tom and I; another uncommon occurrence but one that I remember taking in as a beautiful moment that would not be forgotten. There was much banter that evening after the service and a real sense of joy in our home; brothers and sister getting along and jovial teasing amongst everyone.  Ryan was usually “on the go” and heading out the door to experience some great adventure, but this night he stayed home.  I stretched out on the couch preparing myself for a family movie and Ryan came barreling down and plopped himself right in front of me laying horizontal; forcing me to have to sit up a bit so I could see over his big frame. I spent the evening watching the movie and playing with his crazy hair.  Again, this was an uncommon occurrence but one that seemed so natural; a mom loving on her boy and a boy seeming to want the comfort of his mom.  That night as we all went to bed there was a sense of peace and contentment.

The next day I was up early preparing my grocery list for Easter dinner; I would be cooking for family and friends.  The day was also going to be filled with dropping Luke at friends for the day and a trip to the mall to find a dress for Amanda for a CASA (Court Appointed Special Advocate) event that she and I were scheduled to speak at in a couple weeks.  I sat at the table making my lists and all of a sudden I received a text from Ryan; he was in the bathroom.  The text said, “How can I pray for you today?”  I chuckled and a few minutes later he came running up the stairs with climbing gear in hand and I smiled at him and said, “Really, you couldn’t just ask me that in person?”  His lips turned into that awesome smile of his and a twinkle formed in his eyes and that’s all that needed to be said.  I asked where he was going and he said, “I’m going climbing.  I need some time to think.”  Ryan had recently been going through a difficult breakup and it had taken a toll.  Ryan and I had had some very heartfelt conversations in the previous weeks over this topic so I knew spending time climbing on “his rocks” would be very therapeutic.  We told each other we loved each other and out the door he went.

The rest of the day was filled with our planned activities and it was about 3:00 p.m. and Amanda and I had exhausted the mall, and each other.  We were headed to the car in silence.   Purchasing dresses for beautiful teenage girls is not an event that usually went well in our home; Mom’s ideas and daughter’s ideas were very different.  Amanda got to the car before me and was listening to her voicemails.  When I got in she was looking at her phone with a confused look on her face.  She hung up and said one of Ryan's friends had left a weird message and I should call him back.  I called him as I pulled out of the parking lot.   When I got through Ryan's friend said Ryan had an accident and he didn’t know any details but I should call another one of his friends  that had more info; another climbing buddy.  I quickly called him and he said he didn’t have any clear details but that the 15 year old boy Ryan had been climbing with, had called his mother and said Ryan had fallen and the rescue teams were on the way.  He gave me the boy's mom’s number and I called that number.  This was all happening while I was driving; yes, that was a bad decision but I was trying to get home to Tom and find out what was happening at the same time.  I reached his mom and she immediately handed the phone to the rescue worker that she was climbing through the brush with to get to Ryan and her son.  The boys had decided to drive miles back on a gravel road and climb through brush and then up the rocks to a “sweet” climbing spot.    The rescue worker couldn’t tell me more than that it was bad and he would call me as soon as he had more details. Ugh!!!!  He said they would send some firemen to pick Tom and me up and bring us to where they were. 

Amanda and I arrived home and I sent Amanda in the house to tell Tom what was going on while I remained in the car, trying to extract more information from the rescue worker.  It still hadn’t dawned on me that this was really serious.  I was imagining some broken bones, some scrapes; I was fairly calm.  I went into the house and we all sat and waited patiently for the fire trucks to pull up.  I made a few calls, text a few people and asked for prayer. I was amazed at how calm we appeared.  I don’t think any of us thought it was going to be that bad because Ryan always got out of his scrapes.  I had actually been known to joke that he was sprinkled with “pixie dust” because he always somehow landed on his feet.  We continued to wait and then finally, after about 15 minutes, we got impatient and called 911 and told them our situation and that we were waiting for an emergency crew to come but no one was coming and could they please find out what was going on; they placed us on hold and then said they would call us back.  We waited, beginning to get irritated.  Tom called again and we were put on hold, again.  After about forty-five minutes I saw a police car come up our street, and then another and another.  I rushed out the door telling Tom to hurry; still thinking we were going to see Ryan. 

I got to the street and my eyes met the first police officer and, I knew.  I knew in that instant that our life had changed forever.  I screamed like I’ve never screamed before and crumpled onto the driveway.  I remember thinking how great it felt to be able to scream without any concern for what people thought.  It is weird how I remember thinking that.  You would think that my mind would be a blur, I’ve read so many accounts of people not remembering things; but I feel like I remember it all.  I sat their crumpled, wailing, with my husband’s arms around me and three or four police officers standing over me.  This is a moment in time that I will never forget and crosses through my mind often.

We left Amanda alone in the house to be there for Luke when he got home.  I can’t imagine what it was like to hear her mom wail at the top of her lungs and then be left behind.  I remember getting into the back seat of the police car with Tom and crying into his shoulder.  I remember stopping almost instantly, as if another personality took over, and I began to call people, text people and communicate how our life just changed. I felt like this communication was my lifeline and my link to sanity.  It was awful hearing their response and the agony I caused them, but I needed to share the pain.  I also had to call the home where Luke was and try and explain the life altering event we were just catapulted into.  I couldn’t speak directly to Luke yet because I couldn’t bare that pain too.  I will forever be grateful to our friends for taking care of this message and I will forever feel pain for not being the ones to do it.  But I had to trust others to take care of my other two children as we drove to see where our baby spent his last moments.   

Tom was a rock as his crazy wife made phone calls, stopped and cried, sent texts, stopped and cried, asked questions of the police, stopped and cried.  It was a long ride up to the wilderness area they had been climbing, probably forty-five minutes to an hour.  As we pulled up we saw rescue workers, fire trucks, an ambulance, and yes, the media was already there. How had they beaten the parents?  This annoyed me.  They rushed us into the ambulance to wait with the young boy and his parents and avoid the media.

I stepped into the ambulance and saw this young boy who witnessed my son’s last breath.  I had never met him. I had no idea what happened, what caused Ryan to fall, but my heart went out to this boy who was Luke’s age.  I couldn’t imagine Luke experiencing this life and death event.  My goal became caring for this young child and making sure he was o.k.  Tom and I only asked the basic questions of what happened because my heart felt any deep probing would wound this young boy more than necessary.  Ryan was gone; making this boy feel guilty by probing him with questions was of no value.  He only knew that Ryan had let him climb down first and after he got to the bottom all of a sudden he heard a thud and there Ryan lay below him.  His friend rushed to him and gave him CPR but Ryan was already gone.   That was it; nothing more.  He was climbing and then he was falling 100 feet.  Ryan’s climbing friends have checked all the equipment and retraced the climber’s steps.  We have found no explanation for why Ryan fell other than, it was God’s timing and He could do more with Ryan’s death than He could with his life.  As strange as it sounds, this brings me peace.  It wasn’t random, it was part of the bigger picture and my son and our response was part of the bigger picture.  I didn’t process this immediately, but in my heart as I sat in that ambulance, I knew Ryan’s death and our response was going have impact on many lives.  

Tom left me alone to my thoughts and went to talk with the emergency crew and gather more details and I waited with the young climber, his parents and another of Ryan's climbing friends that had made his way up there.  His climbing friend was a good friend of the young climber's family and Ryan’s and owned the home Ryan had been semi-living in and another home that Ryan had been helping to remodel.   I knew Ryan had been really caring for this man's heart and had been working on showing him Jesus, so I felt compelled to gather them together and pray; pray for healing that was going to need to come, pray for the rescue workers and pray for strength to get through whatever was ahead.  I remember it all.

Tom came back in and handed me the information from the coroner; a list of funeral homes and other awful information a parent should never have to know about.  At this point I began to feel overwhelmed.  I didn’t even know where any cemeteries were in Colorado Springs.   But just at the point where my heart was feeling overwhelmed, the first of our support team arrived; another of Ryan’s climbing buddies, and the Youth Pastor of our church.  Where did they come from?  How did they know where we were?  How did they know how to get to this remote spot?  It felt like they were dropped from Heaven at just the right time for just the right purpose.  The Youth Pastor took the funeral information from my hand and said, “I’ll take care of this.  You don’t need to worry about it.  This is now my job.”  I wept.  

After I gained my composure we began to chat and share with the new comers what we knew.  These two men had been such a big part of Ryan’s high school life and had been part of the team to help get him through his years of “shenanigans” (that’s what I fondly call them).   I could tell their hearts were ripped.  My strength began to waiver and just at that time some of our closest friends and their son popped their heads into the ambulance.  Again, how did they know where we were?  I wept.  God had sent the army to help hold our swords and fight the battle we found ourselves in; the battle to make sense out of tragedy.

We were told it would be a while before they could bring Ryan down because of the difficult terrain.  We settled in.  One of the rescue workers brought in sandwiches and, I called home.   I spoke to our friend, the mom of where Luke had been and found that they had brought Luke to our home and the troupes were rallying around Luke and Amanda.  Apparently our home was filled with friends that wrapped around our children and each other.  Lists were being made of people to bring meals and people who wanted to be available to help in the upcoming days.  Food had been brought in and the troupes were being fed. At one point someone gathered everyone in Ryan’s room and they had a time of worship and prayer.  I can’t imagine how much that thrilled Ryan to watch.   I honestly don’t have many regrets about how we walked through that time but a pain I will always have is that I could not be in two places at once; waiting to say our goodbyes to our son and being there for Amanda and Luke in their horrible time of tragedy.  But God sent an army in our stead.  I had to trust God and our friends to take care of our children.   I hung up and I wept.  God was already being so faithful.

At some point I needed to go to the bathroom and since we were up in the mountains I needed to be driven down a ways to find a bathroom.  One of the fire fighters offered to take me.  As we were driving I found out that he knew Ryan; he went to our church and had gone on a mission trip with Ryan and his son knew Ryan as well.  He filled our driving time with stories of Ryan and shared ways Ryan had had a big impact on his son’s life.  This was a story I didn’t know. What a blessing; God was faithful. 

The team God sent us on the mountain stayed with us until the very end; after four hours they brought Ryan down the mountain.  They had told us to wait in the ambulance but Tom was not having it.  As soon as Ryan was brought out of the brush, Tom was there.  No Coroner, no rescue worker, no one in authority was going to prevent him from seeing his son.   I was then escorted out of the ambulance and Tom and I were given an opportunity to say goodbye to our baby.  It was so dark and cold and as I stepped up to Ryan the world stopped.  I kissed his precious cold forehead, gently touched the one small wound on his head, inhaled deeply his scent, the scent that we would always know as Ryan but knew would begin to fade, scolded him one more time, told him I would always love him; and then I was done.  I could take nothing more.  Tom gathered me and put me into our friend’s truck and we headed back down that dark cold mountain, away from the place that robbed me of my son.

As we drove down the long, winding mountain road I remember weeping against Tom’s shoulder and then exclaiming, “Dang, dang, dang, dang, dang!”  I wanted so badly to be able to speak worse, but I just couldn’t.  It made me giggle.  It wasn’t a crazy giggle; it was a second of laughter, even in tragedy.  There would be more to come.

            I once again called home and said we were on our way.  We were asked if we wanted everyone to leave before we got there.  I guess I wanted to witness what my kids had been experiencing so we said, “No, they can stay.”  When we pulled into the driveway my strength waivered and I wondered why we hadn’t sent everyone home; but we were home and they were there and we would forge through; probably the first in “doing the difficult”.  I walked into the door and was stunned at the faces staring back.  Every corner of our living room was filled with friends; Luke and Amanda’s friends, our friends, Ryan’s friends.   It was as if I was viewing what was before me in slow motion, looking at each individual in the eye, seeing their pain, their love, their longing.  I didn’t know what to say.  They were looking for answers; we really had none except, he was gone.   I shared the basic details that Ryan had fallen and at that point we didn’t really know why.  That was it; there was nothing more to share.  We hugged everyone and I think I sat down next to Luke.  The Youth Pastor made his way over and asked me in a whisper if I wanted him to have everyone leave.  I decided it was time; we needed to be alone with our kids.  Everyone quickly exited and we were left with Amanda and Luke and the Youth Pastor. At least I think that is all that was there; my memory is a little weak at this point.  The Youth Pastor said he would be back in the morning to work through all the details and we thanked him and watched our Knight in Shining Armor walk out the door.  We hugged our kids, cried with them and shared what we knew, acknowledged that it was real and then we all went our separate ways to bed.  It seems odd now that we didn’t cling to one another longer, but we were exhausted and needed time for the reality to settle in.  That first day was drawing to a close.  Tom and I crawled into bed and wrapped our arms around each other and wept.

            I imagine we fell asleep at some point but then I awoke and could not fall back to sleep.  I crept down to our couch and laid there thinking, pondering, praying, processing.  Scriptures of God’s faithfulness were swimming through my mind; “All things work together for good to those who love God and are called according to His purposes”, “I know the plans I have for you, to prosper you and not harm you…”,  and I was being faced with the reality of what I still believed.  I pulled out my computer and started going through pictures.  There has never been a lack of pictures of Ryan.  His life sat before me on the screen.  And then I knew; I was going to have to journal this road we found ourselves on.  Through my journaling God was going to show himself and I was going to find answers.  I had never been one to journal but I felt deep inside that it wasn’t even an option; I was going to write about how God was going to make it worth the pain.  I was going to choose to trust Him and believe that in that trust He was going to resurrect my broken heart.  It was Easter day. 

 

 

            It is a year later now.  The anniversary of Ryan’s leaving us is actually April 7, but the memories will always be wrapped around Easter.  This first Easter is excruciating.  The pain is deep.  But we are moving through the weekend, purposing to continue to step forward and allow God to wrap his arms around us in the truth of the weekend; death equals life. 

Ryan is experiencing the Life we long for; everlasting life in Paradise.  This is his ending/beginning not because he lived a good life, but because he was a sinner and received Christ as his Savior.  He knew he couldn’t enter heaven on his own merit.  He knew when Christ died on the cross He was dying for him, Ryan.

²¹ For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. Philippians 1:21

⁸ For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— ⁹ not by works, so that no one can boast. Ephesians 2:8-9

“He saved us, not because of the righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He washed away our sins, giving us a new birth and new life through the Holy Spirit. ⁶ He generously poured out the Spirit upon us through Jesus Christ our Savior. Titus 3:5-6

So on this Easter we mourn our son, but celebrate God’s gift to us, Salvation.  And, we celebrate Ryan’s choice that allows him to live eternally with his Savior.  I have made that same choice and know I will see him again, just not yet.

     

Easter will never be the same............

It is a week from Easter.  We did not celebrate Easter last year.  It came and went and my Easter candy for the Easter baskets and the meal I had bought to prepare lay untouched for weeks.  I honestly didn’t even realize we had missed it.   Last year, even though Ryan left us on April 7, it was the day before Easter. 

As we near this Easter and the anniversary of Ryan being gone for a year, I wasn’t sure how I would feel about Easter.  I was kind of letting it just “happen” without trying to put feelings around it.  But something amazing has happened; I went to the “Thorn” production (the telling of the story of the Cross) at New Life church.  I have been before and found it powerful, but this time I went mainly because someone had given us free tickets and my daughter really wanted to go.  Oh what a silly woman I am to not have had the forethought that it might be rough.

Scene one, this precious little girl comes dancing down the aisle and stops at my row to dance before me; at least that is what it felt like.  Beautiful music reflecting God’s glory filled the auditorium and this little one dancing for her Savior. My eyes began to moisten. The story moves quickly as Adam and Eve descend from the ceiling and the actors move through life before Christ, his birth, his death and then resurrection.  

I was stricken by the miracles Christ performed before his death; one in particular when He raised the little girl from death.  When she came to life and the crowd roared, my mind immediately went to the thought that God could have saved Ryan from his fall.  I’m sure He saved him numerous times throughout his life; why not this time?  Why did He choose to save this little girl and not my son?  And then the narrator (the disciple John) spoke of his favorite miracle; his own salvation and rebirth in Christ.  The pit in my stomach began to fade and my heart began to warm as truth began to settle over me.  God did not perform the miracle of saving Ryan, but He has been performing miracles in many lives because of Ryan’s life and death; changed lives for Christ.  Isn’t that what living is all about?  Ah, the miracle of a new Life in Christ.

Scenes continue of Jesus walking as we do, reminding me He experienced pain and suffering and temptation, yet kept the bigger picture in mind and did the hard things for the greater good.  The scene at Gethsemane reminded me of Jesus’ humanity; He anguished in prayer with sweat drops of blood as the demons and angles battled.

Luke 22:41-44 “He pulled away from them about a stone’s throw, knelt down, and prayed, “Father, remove this cup from me. But please, not what I want. What do you want?” At once an angel from heaven was at his side, strengthening him. He prayed on all the harder. Sweat, wrung from him like drops of blood, poured off his face.”

I imagined this battle happening daily in my life as I make my choices of joy or sorrow, anger or peace, truth or lies.  The visual of angles fighting the battle with me gave me confidence to continue to purpose to defeat the enemy daily.  I purpose, he will not win.

One of the most heart wrenching scenes was Christ being tortured; tortured to save my soul.  He knew this was coming, He chose that pain.  He could have stopped it at any time; but He didn’t.  He went to the cross for me.  He took my sins upon him and laid them there upon the cross. The truth of that often gets dulled in my life.  But this Easter, I think the reality of it will be so much more powerful; I needed to be saved, and He saved me!  He saved Ryan and now Ryan is living out that eternity with His Savior.

My heart nearly popped out of my chest when the scene arrived where Jesus rose from the grave.  The crowd began to dance with jubilee and Jesus was greeting and hugging everyone in delight.   A little one ran up to Jesus and He swirled her around in pure joy.  I imagined that kind of entrance for Ryan, pure delight.  Jesus reaching for him and saying, “I’m so glad you are home” and Ryan replying, “I’ve been waiting with anticipation to be here!”  I silently sobbed with joyfulness at this thought. That will be my entrance someday and that of others. I am waiting with anticipation.

There was a song that was played, “Just To Be With You.” It wrecked me.  It had so many meanings for me; Jesus paying the full price to be with me, Ryan giving his life (he would have volunteered) so others may find Jesus, me being willing to recognize that giving up my son has allowed others to find Jesus and draw closer to Him; my heart soared with emotion.

Just To Be With You

(click to listen)

 

No, Easter will never be the same.  It will be filled with deep meaning as I see myself in the Story of The Cross; the miracles, the sacrifice, the pain, the substitution, the Life!  My faith rests in the assurance that God is still seated on His throne and because of this I can calmly await the time when I can run into His arms saying, “All things have worked together for good!”  Romans 8:28.  And I will be home.

The amazing thing that has happened?  I am grateful Easter will never be the same.

Pool of awareness.............

I woke this morning with a need to work through the feelings that have been swirling through my heart and mind in the last day or so.  Writing has become a way for me to pull those emotions and thoughts out, identifying them, sorting through them and then determining what to do with them.  It is me slowing down, laying them before the Lord and asking for discernment and wisdom in the pain.  I am asking this morning, what to do with this awakened pain.

 
The last few days have been warm and balmy and the thaw of winter is upon us. The birds have been chirping loudly each morning singing the song of the promise of a new day.  My Crocuses that pop their heads out with determination each spring have done so with royal beauty.   Yesterday I cut and pulled all of the lifeless weeds around them so that their beauty could be fully seen.  There was a huge pile of snow in the middle of my back patio that lay upon my outdoor carpet.  I shoveled and chipped away at the icy pile in the morning, hoping to see it melt and then be able to swing on my patio swing in the late afternoon and take in its peace; it has always been my “happy place”.   The snow melted and I sat down with my dinner plate and began to swing.

 
With each swing my heart did not find peace, but pain.  Many wonderful moments were spent on that porch with my precious son; they all came flooding at me.  It was on that patio that I cut his dreads in laughter and disgust. It was on that patio that he strummed his guitar many nights next to the fire, leading us in worship and laughter.  It was this time last year that he sprawled out on the warm patio floor and read one of his thought provoking books while I swung next to him on my swing with my book; each stopping along the way to share thoughts and questions.  I remember thinking how this was the sweet beginning of our adult life together, he was moving into a new phase of life.  As a mom those moments of watching your child move out of one phase and closer to a maturing, life giving phase are treasurable.  I will treasure those moments forever.  The memories of those moments are my Ryan now.   I can no longer reach over and touch that crazy head of hair, step into that big strong embrace smelling the scent of Ryan or whack him on the shoulder for an inappropriate comment.  I am forced to live with memories.  

 
For almost a year I have been preparing for the reality of living without Ryan.  It has been a preparation of truth for the truth of death is not something our minds can comprehend instantly; it is too painful.  I feel as though my heart has been protected by the winter ice, preserving it for the thaw of reality.  Spring is here and the sun is warming my heart and creating a puddle of awareness; each melting drip is a tear of recognition of what was to what is.  I sense that it is important that I recognize those drips, watching each one fall into the puddle of awareness. As I write those words I feel the truth of them.  This is the sentence my heart was looking for.   My puddle will become a pool of beauty as I allow the past to melt into the future.
 

 I feel more prepared today to receive the thawing of my heart and embrace the beauty that is ahead.  The beauty is there.  It has never left.  I just have to keep my eyes open to see it.

 

  

Celebrating 21 years.........

We are soon approaching Ryan’s 21^st Birthday, Thursday, February 28, 2013.  I’ve heard from many who have gone before me that for a grieving heart,  birthdays are the worst event to have to get through.  Consequently, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about what Ryan’s 21^st birthday might look like.  I must admit, I’m at odds with myself.  I, once again, feel like a complete misfit.  I’m not looking at Ryan’s birthday with a heavy heart, but rather a heart of celebration that Ryan gets to spend his 21^st birthday with his Creator, the one who thought him into existence.

This is how my mind has processed this upcoming event:

Over 21 years ago God determined that a baby boy must come into this world with a huge splash and then continue to make splashes until his early departure from earth at age 20. This boy would have purpose.  This boy would cause people to stretch their minds and their hearts and leave a lasting impression wherever he went.  It would not be easy to parent him because of his unique characteristics but God had fashioned a couple that would love him well and do everything in their power to encourage him to pursue a life in Christ; Tom and Gail Wahl.  So on February 28, 1992 Ryan Wahl became a gift to the world at 9 lbs, 15 oz and began his amazing life as the child of Tom and Gail Wahl.

Ryan was a fun baby and toddler; always smiling and making it easy to smile back at him.  His curly light brown hair, big brown eyes and hilarious faces made him an easy baby to be around.  It wasn’t until Kindergarten, that Ryan began to really find his will and his own mind; this is when he started fighting the norms and insisting on being different.  He wasn’t that little boy that sat in his seat quietly and did all that was asked; he was that little boy that the teacher continually had to find creative ways to keep busy and focused.   He rarely made it through the week, let alone the day, without check marks. We still have the little pile of marbles that he was told to keep in his pocket and when he started getting antsy he was to play with the marbles instead of bothering his neighbor.  These kinds of “tricks” were sought all the way through elementary school.  The word “sought” is used because there were no tricks that really worked for this little boy who was designed to think outside those teacher’s little boxes and to move outside those little desks.  Gail and Tom were challenged to figure out how to make this little boy fit within the world’s boxes; but they would never give up and they continued to love.

Ryan became homeschooled in Jr. High and Tom and Gail began to see why this little boy struggled with the “norm”; he caught on quickly while looking like he wasn’t paying attention.  He understood rapidly what others pondered at length.  He was bored with learning and wanted to move and experience life; learning was a waste of time.  As Ryan longed to experience life and got the deeper things, his short term, in the moment thinking wasn’t quite as swift.  Tom and Gail spent many moments asking, “Ryan, what were you thinking;” only to be met with a blank stare or drawn out reply, “Nothing?”  It was as if he was saying, “Should I have been thinking?”  Many exasperated and embarrassing moments for Tom and Gail ensued throughout Jr. High and into High School until Gail prayed for God to show them glimpses of what this young, smart, exciting, fun filled boy who often wasn’t thinking would become?  It was in those glimpses that God revealed that this young boy, this Huckleberry Finn that could get others to do his bidding, that could make you smile when you wanted to yell, that could bring fun when others couldn’t find it, this young boy was going to be an incredible young man that God would use greatly.  These glimpses are what got Tom and Gail through the tough teen years.  Every once in a while they would see the potential and think, “Oh, that’s what it is going to look like!” The embarrassment began to subside and Tom and Gail began to embrace his uniqueness and not fight it, as much.  They began to see that God created Ryan to be something different and in that difference there were many treasures.  

A life of Faith was always at the core of the Wahl household; above academics, above accomplishments, a saving faith in Jesus and a life that pursued the things of God were the foundation that held them together and gave them their footing.  Ryan grasped this foundation even through all his shenanigans.   When his mind was conflicted with does and don’ts, his heart was never far from the Lord’s.  As maturity set in Ryan began to find balance over what his heart desired; the pursuit of Christ and what his mind battled, the things of the world.   Ryan wasn’t perfect when he went to live with Jesus but he had asked Jesus in his heart many years ago and made Him Lord of his life while in New Zealand with YWAM and his life had become a pursuit of the things of the Lord. This was evident through his conversation, through what he read, by how he spent his time, by whom he spent his time with. 

Tom and Gail are confident that Ryan is living in abundance with the One whom he pursued, Jesus Christ.  He is living with the One whom they introduced Ryan to from infancy on.  Gail and Tom accomplished their mission; to raise a child to love God and pursue the things of Christ so the child could spend eternity with their Savior.

This is how I am processing this 21^st birthday for my son.  I plan to celebrate the completion of a job I held for almost 20 years that had the results I pursued.   Oh, there will be tears, no doubt, but I’m guessing that any tears of sorrow will be washed over with tears of joy as I envision my son dancing on the streets of gold with his Savior, the one whom he pursued.   

I want to share an excerpt from an email I received this week from one of Ryan’s high school friends who was sharing the impact Ryan’s life AND death continues to have on him:

“A couple weeks ago a man was speaking at my church. He was talking about someone in his life that had passed away, and he talked about how in heaven time is much different than how we perceive it here on earth. And he pointed out that to us it might be years before we get to heaven, but to the person that is there already, it is mere moments. So if you think about it, Ryan will just be walking in when maybe he will turn around and see you.:) Isn't it so amazing that we have a God that loves us so much, that He would give us the opportunity to be in His presence, forever.... our lives are but vapors, the real joy is once we get up there, and all worship at his feet TOGETHER.”

I live with the phrase in my head, “I’ll see you soon, but not yet!”   I imagine Ryan turning and  saying soon, “There you are!”  It is a sweet conversation I play in my mind and am so grateful that I have the confidence of knowing this conversation can take place.  I am grateful my parents spent the days of my youth modeling a life of Faith in Jesus Christ so that I could pass that on to my children and can now experience the peace and freedom of knowing, “I will see my son soon, but not yet!”

On Thursday I plan on singing and meaning, “Happy Birthday to you Ryan!”

Place The Testimony I give you in the Chest,,,,

I’m pretty aware that I am walking through another typical stage of grief; the stage where you feel like you are still wearing a sign on your chest, “My son died.  Ask me my story!”, and yet you feel like the world doesn’t see it anymore.  I haven’t penned my thoughts lately because I’ve been trying to put this stage into perspective and allow the Lord to speak discernment and wisdom into it.  I’m thinking it could produce bitterness if I let it.  But bitterness is the last thing I want this journey to produce.

It has taken me a while to figure out how to express this step of grief without sounding like I want attention, or like I’m complaining.  Instead, I want it to reflect the journey of a griever so that understanding can be received by both the griever and the comforter.  This is why I’m going to be honest, even if it is difficult.

A grief that is known by others is a bizarre thing; it places you, for a time, in a position of being noticed and sought after and cared for.  You are the focus of people’s “crisis attention”.  Everyone receives this kind of attention differently, but overall I’m thinking that most are shored up by the love and attention of others.  It is a time when others come to you; you do not have to seek them.  In a world where even the most popular of people can feel lonely, this “crisis attention” can be very appealing.

Because of who Ryan was and the impact of his leaving us, we received a lot of attention. God made it a big event.  I truly did feel as if I walked around people saw a sign hanging from my chest, “My son died.  Ask me my story!”  It was amazing how often I was stopped and the impact of his leaving us was expressed.  The news of his death crossed states and continents. My Face Book was an incredible vehicle for this kind of traffic as well.  It was a time of instantly being taken care of, loved on and sought after and many of our needs were taken care of before we even knew we needed them; and this lasted for months.  It was a slow addiction to……what; an addiction to being noticed, being cared for, to being in the spot light, to not having to work at friendships, to being covered in prayer?  Wow!  That’s not a bad place to be.  But of course, that all surrounded the core fact that our son was gone.  We gained an infusion of friends and strangers in our lives at a time when we lost a big part of who we were.  We gained and lost at the same time. 

Now, we are ten months down the road and the “crisis attention” is dissipating.  Please hang in here with me as I work through the next couple paragraphs.  Hold your judgment and feelings of possibly being offended until you have heard me out.

The infusion of friends and strangers has moved on to other crisis and those in greater need.  I am still wearing my sign, but not as many are reading it.  There was a day when I realized that I had not heard from hardly any of my “crisis crew” in weeks.  I felt alone with my sign.  People had moved on, but I was still stuck with my sign and the reality of my life.  I was left with a need to be seen.   I’ll be honest, there was a period of about 24 hours that I decided I would show everyone; I would stop Face Booking, I would not blog again, I would not call anyone until they called me.  I was going to be mad.  I’m not sure that even lasted 24 hours.  The entire time I decided to give into bitterness, I hated it.  I could not stay on that island; I needed to get off!!  This was not who God made me to be.  Bitterness was not to be a lengthy part of my journey.

Now that I made the choice to not be bitter I needed to figure out how to work through the fact that I felt I would always have a sign on my chest exclaiming my tragedy, yet my sign will fade from the world’s view as time passes.  I will become like everyone else; sometimes seen, sometimes not seen.  Yet, in my mind I would always stand out because of my life experience.  And, I had to wonder if I would always long to be seen again.  I think this is the place grievers can easily get stuck.

I imagine anyone who has gone through a big life experience feels like their experience almost goes before them, identifying them.  It is almost like a badge of courage; a sense that we earned our right to be noticed; a right to tell our story.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve met a stranger whether it be getting my hair done, in a waiting room, in a checkout line, and I just couldn’t wait for them to bring up something that would allow me to tell them about my story.  I wanted to say, “Didn’t you see my sign?” That’s hard to admit, but true.  I have a story to tell and I feel compelled to tell it again and again. Telling it allows me to keep Ryan’s story out there, allows me to speak of God’s strength, and if I’m honest…maybe continue to be noticed?  I think that is the addictive piece.

Then I came across some scripture…yes, scripture has been the piece that has put everything in perspective for me along this journey.  I am reading through the Bible this year through The Message.  I read in Exodus 25, “Place The Testimony I give you in the Chest.”  This verse jumped off the page at me.     

In this verse God is telling Moses to put The Testimony in the Chest.  The Testimony was the law (10 commandments) and these reflected the mind and will of God.  A testimony is declaration or profession of faith and for me it is declaring that the mind and will of God is good, even in pain.  The Chest was the Ark of the Covenant, a box, a vessel, me.  I was to carry The Testimony.  I am no theologian and I am probably taking some license here, but if God's Word has spoken to me and I have taken meaning from it that has brought health and healing to my life, I think God is probalby o.k. with the interpretation.

I have been envisioning myself walking around with a sign ON my chest for all to see.  But God is telling me stop carrying my sign and expect others to see it; instead allow the testimony of the sign to live within me.  I don’t need to walk around with an outward sign because I don’t require that kind of attention any longer. I am the vessel; God’s faithfulness through this journey and what I have become because of it, is the testimony. That testimony is what will allow me to move forward and not expect from others and instead start meeting other people’s needs.  That testimony is what will allow me to appreciate all that I’ve been given instead of bitterness for what is no longer here.  That testimony will allow me to always be looking for Wonder instead of finding deficit.   That testimony is what tells me I really only need to be seen by my Savior for He truly does supply all my needs.

It has only been 10 months, but, it has been 10 months of God showing me His faithfulness and strength in amazing ways.  I read in my Come Away My Beloved,  “I will cause the veil to drop, and you will enter a new area of experience.  You will be given knowledge in My Spirit that is not to be found in books.  I will share with you My thoughts, and who can tell the sum of them?”  The veil has dropped for me and I have entered a new area of experience and because of that I no longer need to carry around my sign but rather, I have been able to place the Testimony (my sign) He has given me in the Chest.

Grief, no it isn't over.  But it has reached the place where I can continue on and focus on the world around me instead of only seeing right in front of me.  I am grateful for my "crisis crew" and all those who have touched my life in some way over the last 10 months.  There is no bitterness here for what isn't, but extreme gratefulness for what has been and will continue to be as we all live out our own Testimony's in our Chest.

 

 

I say to the mountain, "GO"!

I have seriously been pondering the idea of “Faith” for quite a few months now.  I’ve wondered often at the depth of my faith that has occurred throughout this journey.  Why am I experiencing such a deepening of my faith and strength of my soul during the most difficult time of my life?  It isn’t unusual to see people crumble or falter, at least for a time, during periods of incredible trial.   So why have I not experienced a time of crumble?  It makes no sense.  I am not a theologian, I am not Bible scholar, I am just me; a mom, a wife, a sister, a friend, a sinner, a child of God.

I say to the mountain, "GO!"

I have been a woman in need of something bigger than myself for the “self” that I thought I knew was altered forever on April 7, 2012.  I became a mom of a 20 year old that no longer had a 20 year old to mother.  What do I do with that part of me that had been so all consuming? 

I look back on those first few days and I see clearly how God lead me, and continues to lead me, through my desperation. I was reading Romans 4: 19-20 where Abraham had just been told that at age 100, he and Sarah were going to have a child.

“Without weakening in his faith, he faced the fact that his body was as good as dead – since he was about a hundred years old – and that Sarah’s womb was also dead.  YET, he did not waver through unbelief regarding the promise of God but was strengthened in his faith and gave glory to God.”

                Abraham and Sarah’s birthing bodies were dead (they shouldn’t have been able to create a child); they had been told something unbelievable.  YET, Abraham’s faith did not waver regarding God’s promise but rather was STRENGTHENED in his faith and he gave glory to God.  I had to face the fact that I no longer had a 20 year old child to mother.  I am still his mother, but I can no longer do the mothering things a mom would do.  How do I deal with that loss and find hope? The verse that has plagued my mind from day one is Romans 8:28:

“And we know that ALL things work together for good to those who love Him and are called according to His purposes.”

I had to CHOOSE to believe that God meant what he said; ALL things will work together for good.  Good would come out of my time of devastation.   Obviously I was shaky in that belief but I chose to go on record that I was going to choose to believe God’s promises.  Interestingly, I was recently directed to Mark 11: 22-24 where Jesus says “Have faith in God.  Truly I tell you, SAY to this mountain, GO…”  I chose to tell “despair” to “GO, I am choosing faith!”   I was declaring not what I wanted, but who God promised He would be for me.  I declared it for all to see through my blogs, and because of that I was going to be held accountable to it.  Of course I didn’t really know I was doing all of this and this is what amazes me.  I was walking out the scriptures without really knowing what I was doing.  But my heart knew what it was dong as the Holy Spirit directed it because back when I was 7 I took even a greater leap of faith and I gave my life to Jesus. 

Giving your life to Jesus and choosing a resurrected life is the greatest act of faith someone can take.  “Faith is the things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen” Hebrews 11:1.  Faith takes courage.  Courage to acknowledge we need something bigger than ourselves and in that courageous step we receive, “Life” with a big L.  This is a favorite statement of our pastor and I love it.  I want Life with a big L.  I want a courageous Faith with a big F.  I want a walk that astounds me and others.  I have that in Jesus.

Now that I have found the scripture to back up what my actions have been through the guidance of the Holy Spirit, I plan on SAYING to all mountains, GO!  In the name of Jesus, GO!

Can it be?

Yesterday was Luke's birthday. He turned 16. It was another first....Luke's birthday celebrated without Ryan. But the beautiful thing is that my heart was not wrapped around what we were missing, but rather, what we have. My entire day was filled with thoughts of joy and peace over the gift God gave us 16 years ago; Luke.  Can it be?  Can I be healing?

After a child dies, it would be easy to walk with fear and caution and try to control what one still has so that we never have to experience that kind of grief again. But honestly.....honestly, I look at Luke and my arms are wide open to the Lord. He is the Lord's and I have the privilege of being his mom.  He isn't mine to control and manipulate and craft into being what I want him to be; he is mine to nurture and love and help become all God designed him to be so that he can carry out God's plan for his life.  This is such a freeing concept.  It takes the stress of perfection, accomplishment and control out of the equation.  I learned this throughout Ryan's life and God has fine tuned this thought process through his death.

Yesterday I was amazed at the freedom I felt from pain. I still had a couple of deep swallowing moments where my heart felt a longing for Ryan, but overall my heart was actually happy as I acknowledged that God has my hand. He is walking me down this road and I can trust Him with the journey. There is good in life AND death when we trust God for the outcome. This is the heavenly perspective I ask God to help me walk with each day. This is the stance I have chosen to take; standing with my arms wide open. It keeps the wasteful things of life from swallowing me up and keeps me in that place of "seeing the big picture". Honestly, I like this place; this place where "peace surpasses all understanding."  

 
  Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. ⁷ Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:6-7  

 

This is where I am today. I don't know where I will be tomorrow, but I am trusting God for it and am feeling the healing He promises. I am walking in faith, trusting God's Word to be true and calling out His promises. It seems to be working and there is no other place I'd rather be.

Nevertheless, each person should live as a believer in whatever situation the Lord has assigned to them, just as God has called them.

I Corinthians 7:17